Dragon's Dower Read online

  Kelsey could not know their identities or they would have been accused, as well. Simon would keep it that way.

  He pressed his horse to a faster speed.

  So preoccupied was he that Simon was nearly upon the wagon blocking the center of the road before it gained his attention. Casting a puzzled gaze over the wagon he immediately realized that one of the rear wheels was lying beside it in the road. Several men, most of them garbed in mail and obviously soldiers, were working to raise it in order to get the wheel back on. Horses of decent breed, as well as a glossy black mare of exceptional quality, were tied to a tree just off to the right.

  Two women, one in a long hooded cape of good wool and another in a hooded cape of heavy burgundy velvet stood looking on. A noblewoman and her entourage, he assessed quickly. Most likely they were on their way to court.

  In spite of all that was going wrong in his own life, Simon found himself stopping. He greeted the two women. “Is there aught I might do to help you?”

  The taller of the two, the one in the velvet cape raised her head….

  Dear heaven, he thought as his eyes met hers, which were almond shaped and the most unusual color he had ever seen, for they were the exact shade of newly budded lilacs. Her alabaster skin molded features of perfect and pleasing symmetry like those he had seen on statues while travelling through Italy, the nose straight, the cheekbones high. Her lips were such a luscious wild berry hue that he wondered if she had been biting them. The dark ebony hair that rimmed the inside of her hood seemed to come afire with subtle streaks of deep red in the morning light.

  She was beautiful, undeniably, incredibly, mesmerizingly beautiful.

  It took Simon a moment to realize that those perfect lips were moving, answering the question he had forgotten he’d asked. Her voice, having a slight huskiness for a woman, was soft and evenly modulated, and it stirred his senses as greatly as her beauty. “I do not know what it might be, sir.” She did not fully meet his gaze for more than a brief moment as she gestured to the men who had not ceased in their efforts to raise the wagon. “There are hands enough to see it done.”

  A firm rejection of his offer, but perhaps just what a gently bred young woman should tell a strange man.

  Still he lingered, finding himself asking inanely, “Do you go on to court?”

  She kept her gaze cast down and he noted the way her lashes lay very thick and dark over her ivory cheeks. “My lord, I do appreciate your concern but we really require no aid. And my father would not have me converse with a man unknown to me, lest there be some pressing need for it.”

  Simon was not at all surprised. The man who counted himself this damsel’s father must certainly have a care with her.

  Truth be told he was somewhat of a blackguard to linger about here staring like an untried lad. He might soon find himself wed, and though it was not of his choosing, his circumstances made his attentions to the young woman less than honorable.

  Simon bowed, his tone softer than it might have been had he not felt somewhat doubtful of his own reasons for continuing to tarry. “Pray forgive me, my lady. I did not mean to cause you such discomfort by gawking as so many others must.”

  She looked up at him then, seeming to really see him for the first time, her uncertain gaze moving over his face. He smiled reassuringly, feeling a deep desire to put her at her ease.

  Her lashes fluttered down, then up as she cast him a shy look. For a moment her gaze seemed almost wishful.

  One of the men spoke up. “Is there a difficulty, my lady?”

  Immediately that expression of cool dismissal fell into place. “Nay, Sir Brian. This man was only asking if he might be of help. I have told him he may go on his way.”

  Simon looked to the man, who met his gaze with disapproval. He had no right to the resentment he felt. The fellow was only doing his duty.

  Yet Simon could not resist one more look at those haunting eyes, which now seemed to hold no expression at all. He felt unexplainably disappointed.

  He bowed again and prodded his horse onward. Christian and Jarrod awaited him.

  Yet he found himself looking back to see that the young woman was watching him. Then his horse took him around a bend in the road and she was gone.

  Feeling oddly bereft Simon gave himself a mental shake. He had no time to allow himself to entertain romantic notions toward a young woman with whom he had exchanged no more than a handful of words at the side of the road.

  No matter that she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Marriage to his enemy’s daughter would mean that he would no longer be a free man, in spite of the fact that the very notion was abhorrent to him.

  Jarrod and Christian swung about as he approached them where they sat at a narrow wooden table in a window alcove within the dim interior of the inn. The low-beamed chamber’s other occupants paid more heed to their cups than to each other, which was one of the reasons for choosing this location. Both his friends’ expressions were grave.

  As always, Jarrod spoke first, his black eyes piercing in their intensity. “What said the king?”

  The question brought a new rush of shock and disbelief over what John had proposed. Yet Simon’s tone was amazingly matter-of-fact. “His majesty has proposed a solution in the form of a wedding.”

  Christian shook his gold-streaked brown head in confusion. “A wedding?”

  “Aye, between myself and Kelsey’s whelp.”

  “What say you?” Jarrod rose from the well-worn bench, his hand going to the hilt of his sword.

  Simon sat wearily on the other bench beside Christian, telling him, “Desist, my friend. Anger will gain us naught.” He felt Christian’s strong and comforting hand upon his shoulder. It was ever thus, Jarrod needing to be soothed, and Christian soothing. He knew these two men as well as he did himself. They were his brothers in all but flesh. Now that his true brother, Arthur was dead, his only brothers. He accepted each as he was, the aspects of his personality being all that Simon would ask for.

  Jarrod sank back down, speaking more evenly, though there was still a gleam of outrage in those black eyes. “Pray tell us what you are talking about.”

  Simon took a long drink from one of the two half-filled cups on the table before replying. “King John informs me that unless I agree to wed the daughter of the very man we have sworn vengeance upon, I will lose my head.”

  Again Jarrod reached for his sword, though this time it was clearly a symbolic gesture for his other hand went to the brooch at his broad shoulder. His tone was filled with outrage. “You can not agree to such a demand. And if resistance means your death, then we go with you.”

  Simon answered him calmly. “And what would our deaths solve? For that is what the outcome would be. The three of us can not hope to triumph against the crown. It would in no way cause Kelsey to suffer the consequences of his despicable acts.”

  Even the more levelheaded Christian sounded angry and horrified. “But to pledge yourself to Kelsey’s daughter?”

  Simon took a deep breath and another drink of the cool ale. “I know. ’Tis an untenable thought.”

  Christian said. “What precisely did the king say? Perhaps you have not understood him aright and there is another way….”

  Simon halted him with a raised hand. “I understood all too well for he put it baldly enough. ’Tis the axe or Kelsey’s get.”

  “But why? What purpose does it serve?”

  “Because, my friends, he wants me where he can be sure that I am being watched and by one whose loyalty to him is unquestioned.” Simon gave a rueful laugh. “The king informed me that he does not really wish to kill me lest he must. He feels that my death will bring about a certain amount of dissent amongst the nobles and he would avoid that if he is able. It is really a question of what will bring him the least amount of inconvenience.”

  The scowl on Jarrod’s face was as black as his hair. “We should have stayed in Jerusalem. Life there was hard but the enemy was better known, more ea
sily identified.”

  Simon shook his dark head. “I had to return to Avington when I got word that Arthur was gravely ill.”

  Christian spoke up. “Aye, and my own father is getting on as well and has been ill of late. His death would leave no one but my sister, Aislynn, to look after the lands. You are free to do as you will, Jarrod, we are not. Your brother will see to Kewstoke.”

  Simon watched for the familiar darkness that hovered in the back of Jarrod’s black gaze whenever he thought of his family, for it was only his place as bastard that precluded his inheriting the lands and titles his younger brother now held. Jarrod turned away as he said, “King John is correct in one thing at least. There would be an outcry against him at your death.”

  Into the weighty silence that fell Christian said, “You must agree to this marriage.”

  Simon nodded. “As I had realized.”

  Jarrod looked at them as if they had surely lost their minds, once again standing up from his place on the bench across from them. “What say you? Have you both gone mad?”

  Casting a quick glance about the crowded chamber, Simon motioned for him to sit down. “Pray remember yourself, my friend. The king allowed me to go where I would, but there is no reason to believe he would not have me followed. You must have a care lest we be overheard.”

  “But you can not marry Kelsey’s daughter.”

  Christian shook his head. “What real choice has he, Jarrod? John is king. Even if Simon were to escape to the continent, he would not be free. He would know that he had forfeited his lands, left them to the mercy of whatever toady the crown finds favor with at the moment. As things stand, that could very well be Kelsey, lest the king be wise enough to see that granting any man more power than the earl already wields would be a mistake. Simon can not abandon Avington no matter that he must marry the daughter of the very devil himself.”

  “But to marry himself to that family? What know you of her? I recall her but little, other than that our foster father seemed to dote on her as he did his own Rosalind whenever she was visiting.”

  Simon was not unaware of the regret in Jarrod’s voice as he spoke Rosalind’s name, nor that the sad expression in Christian’s gaze matched his own. None of them could forget the sight of her crumpled body beneath that sheet.

  He took a deep breath and forced himself back to the matter before him. He vaguely recalled Isabelle Kelsey from visits to Dragonwick with her father. He had seen little of her, though, as he and his friends had preferred to make themselves scarce when their foster father’s brother was about. He had a vague recollection of a solemn child with overlarge eyes and dark hair that had been arranged carefully at all times.

  Simon shook his head. “I know nothing of her, but that she is the get of my enemy. Yet what matter if I did? I must fall in with King John’s wishes. I can only assume that he has already informed Kelsey of his intent in this because the girl has been sent for and will, I assume, be awaiting me on the morrow.”

  “That was presumptuous.” Jarrod frowned.

  Christian added, “The king must have been planning this all along. Listening to the evidence was a mere formality.”

  “Aye, the letter condemned me from the beginning. It takes more than a day to travel here from Dragonwick. If the girl is to be here by morning…” Simon took a deep breath. “Christian has indeed come to the crux of it. Even if I could escape the king’s ‘justice’ I could not abandon my responsibilities.”

  “But marriage?”

  Simon leaned closer to them, pitching his voice so it could not possibly be overheard. “The king has offered only two alternatives of which I have told you, and marriage, though only slightly more so, is the most palatable of the two. Yet haps the marriage might not be such a drastic step. Haps there is a way to leave my options open.”

  Christian leaned toward him, his blue eyes intent with new interest. “And what way might that be?”

  Simon shrugged. “If the marriage is not consummated, an annulment might be obtained at some point in the future.”

  Now Jarrod smiled coldly. “You mean at some point when we lay siege to Dragonwick and win her.”

  Christian shook his head fiercely. “Nay, there is no hope of that now. Not with Simon already under punishment from the king. We could never convince him that our cause had been just.”

  Simon nodded, his regret tingeing his voice. “Aye, it is too late to hope to win Dragonwick from the knave. What I must think on is getting free of his control.” He turned to Christian. “Your father was friend to mine.”

  Christian nodded. “Of a certainty.”

  “Then perhaps, for the sake of the lands he held so dear he would do me a service.”

  Christian sat up straighter. “What have you in mind?”

  “My father was friend to many. If your father was to write those who might be willing to come to my aid and enough of them did so, John might be forced to free me.”

  Christian nodded. “Of course. John would be forced to release you if enough pressure was brought to bear. I am certain there will be no difficulty in finding those who are willing. Kelsey has made many enemies.”

  Jarrod scowled. “I will not offer to approach my brother. He would not be likely to even grant me entrance to Kewstoke.”

  Again Simon heard his pain, and knew he had no answer for it, but his own love. He faced him. “I would ask a different, but equally dear, boon of you, my friend. Could you make your way to Avington and watch over it in my absence?”

  Jarrod bowed. “Of a certainty.” He then raised a tight fist. “Kelsey can not be allowed to roam free, to escape retribution for all he has done, including this new evil. He must meet his reward.”

  “And he will,” Christian added. “Eventually we will find a way to get to Kelsey in spite of King John’s support.”

  Simon shrugged, fighting his own frustration. “But for the moment I will be in no position to see it done, trapped as I will be beneath his very thumb.”

  “But we shall not be.” Jarrod narrowed his black eyes.

  “Nay, we shall not,” seconded Christian.

  Simon cast them both a quelling glance. “You must do nothing to put your own lives in jeopardy. Kelsey has proven himself a more slippery eel than any of us has foreseen.”

  Jarrod nodded. “When I strike it will be with care and none shall have reason to believe you involved. He will ride around a bond in the and….”

  “Pray give this notion of garnering support amongst the nobles a chance. Haps Kelsey would find himself on the receiving end of the king’s wrath if enough information was brought to light.” Simon did not imagine that Jarrod could act against Kelsey without being found out.

  With obvious reluctance, Jarrod nodded, as did Christian.

  Feeling only somewhat relieved, Simon raked a hand through his heavy dark hair, addressing Jarrod, “You will go to Avington until I am able to get further word to you?”

  Jarrod nodded. “Aye.”

  Christian sighed. “I will go to my father. In the event I am needed, Jarrod will send word on to me at Greatham.”

  Again Jarrod nodded his midnight-dark head.

  “You have my thanks,” Simon told them earnestly. “I will tell my men that they are to accompany you, Jarrod. There is no need for them to come to Dragonwick. Does Kelsey mean me harm, they will not be able to prevent him.”

  Christian frowned, his expression direct. “You will watch your back?”

  Simon reached for the cup and took a long drink. “I will, for I have no doubts that I must do so if I am to come out of this alive. For we have seen how far Kelsey is willing to go for what he wants.” His free hand covered the dragon on his shoulder.

  Jarrod and Christian did the same. “Aye, after murdering his own brother to gain an earldom, your death would not trouble him in the least.”

  Chapter Two

  Quietly, Isabelle waited in the crowded and poorly appointed chamber she was sharing with several other ladies o
f the court. She had seated herself on a narrow backless chair some distance from where the other women chattered whilst pretending to attend to their sewing.

  She did not know why her father had summoned her here to Windsor, nor had she wanted to come. She had only been to court on one other occasion with her father, who seemed to like court life little better than she. He preferred to be on his own lands where he was the law.

  Nay, she had not wished to come. The first time she had been to court, she had been gawked at and disdained by the other ladies, though she could not understand why they would behave so cruelly to a girl of no more than fourteen years. This visit had proved no different. If only she could return home to Dragonwick. But what choice had she in it? Her father was master of her fate as he had reminded her more times than she could ever begin to count in the twenty years of her existence.

  She was infinitely aware of the fact that to anyone, including her father, viewing her from the outside she would appear completely unmoved. Yet her mind rolled with questions and fear of what he might be about.

  Why had he sent for her? When he had left for court he had seemed agitated about some matter. Yet he had shared nothing with her.

  It had crossed Isabelle’s mind that there might be a possible suitor involved. But her father had not told her to make herself amenable as he had each time he had dangled her before a hopeful at Dragonwick. And there had been more than a few. Possible alliance to an earl drew those who would further their own positions. Thus far none of the men had offered enough on their own part. The Earl of Kelsey would not give up his pawn, for keeping her unwed had made allies of those men who still sought to win her.

  She had not even seen her father except at dinner the previous evening. He had done no more than cast a sweeping glance over her, saying that she was looking well enough and that she was to garb herself carefully. She had not wasted breath in asking him to tell her what he was about in bidding her to come to court. He would say nothing until he was prepared to do so. No amount of coaxing had ever changed that, as she’d learned from early childhood.