At last, he raised his head. Deep blue eyes regarded her with disbelief. ‘I never took you for a coward.’
She wanted to tell him no, to insist that she loved him still. But if she dared to voice the words, she believed her father would kill him somehow.
‘I am going to marry Alan de Courcy.’
‘No. You won’t.’ His voice held an edge of a man barely containing his fury. ‘You are already wedded to me.’
She ignored his statement and continued. ‘This is best for both of us. You’ll find someone else to marry.’ Her voice sounded thick, heavy with her own grief.
‘You’re speaking the words he told you to say.’
She held his gaze, knowing that he would suffer if she dared to tell him the truth. ‘I am sorry,’ she repeated.
Then she turned her back and walked away while her heart broke into a thousand pieces.
Chapter Six
One week later
Rosamund needed to be alone. After all that had come to pass, she needed to engage in mindless activity that would take her mind off the tumultuous arrangement Alan wanted.
She knelt down beside the herb garden, hardly caring about the dirt. She pulled weeds, ripping them out by the roots as she attacked the garden with her own private frustration.
I won’t do this,she thought to herself.Alan cannot force me to commit adultery.The thought lent her comfort as she tore out another handful of weeds.
From behind her, she heard horses approaching. Rosamund stood and brushed off the dirt, wondering who the guards had allowed to enter Pevensham. She strode past the garden and walked into the inner bailey. It was then that she saw Owen de Courcy riding towards the stables, accompanied by half-a-dozen armed men.
No. She nearly groaned aloud. The last thing she wanted was Alan’s younger brother intruding right now.
Owen’s expression grew sly when he saw her. He dismounted and gave the reins over to a stable lad. Then he motioned for his men to stay back as he walked across the castle grounds, already behaving as if he were Lord of Pevensham. Rosamund remained in place, knowing that it was safer to remain standing here with her guards nearby than to retreat inside the donjon.
‘My brother, it is good to see you,’ she lied, extending her hands in greeting. She was well aware that it annoyed him to hear her call him that. ‘I apologise that you caught me working in the garden.’
‘Rosamund,’ he said warmly. Owen took her soiled hands and squeezed them. In his smile, she saw a man who believed himself superior to everyone. His gaze lingered too long upon her body, and she pulled her hands free.
‘Forgive me, but I should go and tell Cook to prepare more food for you and your men. And I will let Alan know you are here.’
‘You needn’t bother. I should like to surprise my brother.’ His gaze shifted behind her and hardened. A sense of warning crossed over her, and when Rosamund turned, Warrick de Laurent was standing there, his hand upon his sword. His blue eyes narrowed upon Owen, though his expression remained neutral. Even so, she didn’t miss the subtle challenge between them.
‘And who is this, Rosamund?’ Owen behaved as if Warrick were a stranger. ‘He appears familiar somehow.’
Such a liar he was, when Warrick had already revealed Owen’s intentions. She didn’t doubt for a moment that he wanted Alan dead and would use any means necessary to achieve that purpose.
She veiled her thoughts and answered, ‘This is Warrick de Laurent. I believe you met him at my wedding. He was one of the guests.’
A thin smile spread over Owen’s face. ‘You were betrothed to him once, were you not?’
Married, more like.But she refused to play cat and mouse with this man. It was easier to sweep aside his assumptions. ‘Alan summoned him to Pevensham.’ She dusted off her hands and nodded to the men. ‘Now if you will excuse me, I must—’
‘Not yet.’ Owen blocked her path, probing further. ‘Why is he here, Rosamund?’
‘That is between my husband and Warrick. I have no part in it.’ She forced herself to look up at him.
His expression was knowing, as if he was aware of her deceit. Warrick took a step closer, silently offering his protection. For a moment, the two men locked gazes in a stare.
Then Owen changed tactics, asking, ‘How is Alan? I came to see if my brother is improving.’
Which wasn’t at all true, but Rosamund let it go. She simply murmured, ‘He is the same as ever.’ Only God knew how much time her husband had remaining. But every instinct within her warned that Owen was here to hurt Alan. She could never allow that to happen. Warrick ought to guard her husband at all times, for she did trust him as a fighter. Without thinking, she took a step towards de Laurent.
