“Lord Harwick,” the most senior of her guardsmen called, “stay back, else we shall be constrained to defend Lady Alissende against you.”
Hugh made a noise in his throat, waving his hand in dismissal as he continued to approach, and at the signal, a dozen or more of his men burst from the forest behind her. Her men had no chance, and within moments they were under the control of Hugh’s soldiers.
Edmee shrieked and Jeanette cried out as well, dropping the basket of berries she was holding, as two of the soldiers seized them too, even as Hugh reached Alissende and gripped her upper arm with one hand and her chin more painfully with the other, forcing her to look up at him.
Her body went rigid and her hands felt icy, her fear not only for herself now but for her ladies and the men as well. And though her eyes stung from both the pain of his grip and her sense of panic, she clenched her jaw and tried to blink back the heat, determined not to show him any weakness.
“Still a fighter, I see,” Hugh murmured, using the hand on her chin to jerk her closer. She could not keep back a tiny moan, then, though her discomfort was followed swiftly by revulsion, as Hugh’s movement compelled her to press along the length of his body.
When she was where he wanted her, he looked down, his face inches from her own, as he said, “Back to what I was saying a moment ago, then. I am certain that your greeting was far from the best you could offer me, dear Alissende. It has been so long, and you have been so…difficult. I think I deserve some kind of recompense for my patience and impressive restraint thus far, don’t you?”
“I do not know what you expect,” she said quietly, holding herself very still. “My proxy union was declared at court. I am a married woman.”
“That proxy was naught but another of my brother’s irritating ploys, Alissende, and we both know it,” Hugh said, his voice a dangerous purr. “The sooner you accept that your place is with me, the easier it will prove for all of us. Now come, love, and greet me properly.”
Holding her chin immobile in his grip, he tilted his face toward her and kissed her hard, taking his time, trying to thrust his tongue past her clenched teeth, as if her feelings about it mattered not at all. She beat on his chest, struggling to push away from him, and he pulled back finally, laughing at her.
“You’re a fiery one, that none can deny. Do you not realize, Alissende, that if you stopped resisting so much, you might enjoy my attentions? God knows your husband complained enough to me about his failure to stir your passions in the bedchamber, although in truth I think that poor Godfrey simply wasn’t man enough for the task,” he finished mockingly.
“Cease this, Hugh—release me!” she muttered, the words sounding choked as she struggled to hold back her dread. Though it hurt to do so, she tried to wrench her chin from his grip, at the same time pushing against his chest once more with her palms.
He might as well have been made of stone.
He smiled again, at last releasing her face, though not her arm, from his grasp. However, the tightness of his expression made clear the fact that he was rapidly losing patience with her.
“Come, come, love. If you continue to refuse me on all sides, then I shall be compelled to try other, less pleasant means of gaining your cooperation.”
He glanced over to her lady’s maids and her men. Three of her guards still shifted against their bonds; Seamus, her senior man, lay senseless on the ground, having been clubbed down when he’d wrestled against his captors as they’d attempted to bind him.
Her ladies stood off to the side of that group. Catherine and Marguerite had been taken, along with the fourth guard, as they’d approached the clearing shortly after Hugh’s appearance, and now the four women wept softly, kept from aiding her by the circle of stony-faced soldiers surrounding them.
Hugh flicked his gaze to Alissende again, keeping it fixed to her face as he called out, “Armand!”
“Aye, my lord?”
Alissende’s heart pounded in her chest as she stole a glance to the man who had answered. It appeared to be the one in charge of all the others—Hugh’s captain of the guard. Panicked, she looked back to Hugh, and he issued his order, all the while watching her to see her reaction to it.
“Choose one of Lady Alissende’s men and run him through for his impudence in daring to thwart me this day.”
She gasped in disbelief, her shock finally releasing a swell of tears. “Nay!” she cried out, trying to pull away from him, and looking frantically over to Armand. The captain appeared pale and his face was rigid, but after a moment, he tipped his head in a sharp bow, lowering his gaze and murmuring, “As you wish, my lord.”
“You cannot order a man killed for such a thing! My guards were doing naught but obeying their orders to protect me.”
“Orders issued by what authority, Alissende?” Hugh scoffed, his temper finally snapping. “You are a woman alone, under the pathetic protection of a foolish priest and your termagant of a mother. So either produce this husband that you and my brother crafted from thin air, or else concede to a marriage with me, sanctioned already by King Edward.”
The glade echoed with that command, the area falling into silence for but an instant before an equally strong and masculine voice called out a scathing answer.
“Accustom yourself to disappointment, then, Lord Harwick, for there will be no wedding between you and Lady Alissende. Now or ever.”
Hugh twisted to face the man who had spoken, and Alissende’s heart leaped with relief, joy, and worry all at once. Her gaze locked with Damien’s; he stood at the opposite edge of the glade, backed by twoscore of Glenheim’s guardsmen, who filtered through the trees to rim that side of the clearing, glinting weapons drawn. Damien was a sight to behold, every powerful inch of him thrumming with rage, the predatory light in his eyes promising to do irrevocable damage to the man who had earned his ire this day.
“Who the hell are you?” Hugh growled, sounding only slightly less certain.
“I am Sir Damien de Ashby, former Templar Knight and swordsman to the late king.” Damien pierced Hugh with the cutting ice of his gaze, raising one brow and giving him a mocking nod. “Ah yes—and I am also the man named in the marriage proxy you claim does not exist. So, either you will release Lady Alissende and step away from her right now, or else you will be making yoursecondgrave error of this day.”
Damien smiled then, a slow, dangerous expression that sent a chill straight up Alissende’s spine.
“Go ahead, my lord,” he finished, in a voice that was low and yet frighteningly clear. “Make your decision. For if you do not, then I will do it for you…and I promise you that the dealing of it will be brief, as painful as possible, and will result in nothing less than your soul departing without delay from the miserable confines of your body.”
