Chapter 8
It took all of Damien’s self-control not to lunge at Lord Harwick. He still gripped Alissende by the arm—and he was hurting her, by God, if the look on her face was any indication.
Harwick did not move, and Damien was readying to plant his dagger in the earl’s throat with one well-aimed throw when Hugh suddenly let go of Alissende and took two steps toward his own guard. Alissende stumbled toward Damien at his nod, though his rage flared hotter when she came close enough that he could see the beginnings of a bruise forming along her jaw and cheek. Apparently the bastard had placed his hands on her there as well.
His gaze stabbed into Hugh again.
“Now Alissende’s maids and my guards.”
He heard the edge of tension in his own voice, barely controlled, so he took in a lungful of air in an effort to calm himself, lest he do something to the earl that he might regret later.
Hugh did not respond at first. Instead he stood where he had moved after releasing Alissende, gazing at Damien as if taking his measure.
At last he smiled, though Damien noticed that the expression did not reach his eyes, and he gestured to his men to release Glenheim’s ladies and guards. Seamus was still senseless, so the other three guards carried him to Damien’s side of the clearing, accepting help from some of the others to take him back to the castle where he could have his wound examined and treated.
Then all went silent. Damien wondered what tack Hugh would take, now that he had been thwarted. Would he launch a new assault? Try to engage him alone? Retreat? It seemed that neither Lady Blanche nor Michael had exaggerated when they’d termed Hugh de Valles a tenacious and dangerous opponent. Unpredictable men oft proved to be most challenging, and Hugh, with his ability to seemingly shift his demeanor from one moment to the next, appeared more volatile than the majority Damien had known.
Without warning, Hugh gestured for his men to sheathe their weapons, effectively breaking the standoff. Damien echoed the order to his own men, and as he did, Hugh strode toward him, crossing half the distance between them and then coming to a halt, as if daring Damien to meet him in kind.
There was no question of it.
Clasping Alissende’s hand warmly in his own, Damien walked forward with her, until they reached a distance from Hugh that was comfortable for conversation; then Damien pulled her close to his side, wrapping his arm around her protectively.
It was a clear sign, and one that could not be missed. Not by anyone, but most especially not by the Earl of Harwick.
Hugh’s gaze glanced off that embrace for but an instant, his expression sour. But then the set of his face shifted, and his brows raised in what might have passed for self-deprecating surprise, had it not been for the antagonism still glinting in his eyes.
“So…” he drawled softly. “At long last I meet Sir Damien de Ashby—at one time known as an invincible opponent on the tournament field, later as a famously jilted suitor, and, most recently, as a disgraced Templar Knight. I confess that I had believed you dead, eased into eternity under the gentle tutelage of your inquisitors from France.”
Damien tensed, but he refused to be goaded into a brawl by the man. Not here or now, anyway.
Hugh paused, as if to weigh the effect of his jab. The look he gave Damien was sharp enough to draw blood, for all the benignancy of his overall expression. “Of course you’ll forgive me for assuming news of Alissende’s sudden proxy with you to be false. After what I’d heard concerning the mass arrests and what followed, the timing of it all seemed a bit too…convenient,shall we say.”
“Assumption often results in dangerous errors of judgment,” Damien countered smoothly, still only just restraining himself from slamming his fist into the man’s smug face.
“Right you are.” Hugh gave him a tight smile. “But rest assured, I make it a point never to repeat my errors, whether of judgment or otherwise.”
“The mark of an intelligent man.”
The mockery in Damien’s tone made Hugh flush, then go pale. His jaw tightened. When he’d apparently regained some semblance of self-control, he clipped, “While the warm welcome I have received here overwhelms, my visit to Glenheim is not the sole purpose of my journey. I am passing through on my way to Odiham Castle, where the tournament season gets underway a sennight hence. Dare I ask if you will be joining the events there?”
“It is my intent.”
Hugh raised his brows in an insincere display of surprise and admiration. “Courageous of you. I can only imagine how difficult it will be. The mantle of shame can be a heavy burden to bear. One hopes for time to bury such things, naturally, but in this case…”
His voice drifted off and he shook his head, at the same time crossing his arms as he clearly built to something more malicious. “It is how I first learned of you, you know, since I was abroad when it actually happened. The court gossips have a horrible habit of reviving the account, every now and again, of what ensued during your last tournament five years ago, when before hundreds of spectators, you were publicly humiliated, rejected out of hand as an inadequate suitor for—”
Making a show of catching himself midsentence, he placed his finger to his lips and then feigned shock as he finished, “—why, for my cousin Alissende, strangely enough. The very same woman who now suddenly and without warning has embraced you—a man who fled England in disgrace, entered a celibate Brotherhood, and was eventually arrested and charged withheresy,by God—as her lawfully wedded husband.”
He seemed to take a kind of perverse pleasure in the sarcasm, though the look in his eyes at that moment might have made a lesser man question the wisdom in continuing to oppose him. “It is truly miraculous, I say. Astonishing.”
Damien did not reply at first, instead willing himself to absorb the blow of Hugh’s words. They were nothing more than that, he reminded himself. Sounds upon the air. The events themselves were long past. Though the memories might burn like fire, this bastard could go to hell before Damien would reveal that damning truth to him.
Never moving his gaze from Hugh’s arrogant face, Damien kept his emotions tightly reined in so that he could answer with a sense of calm that surprised even him. “Itisremarkable, my lord. And because of it, I am feeling magnanimous. Therefore, bearing in mind your obvious disappointment at having lost the right to pursue Alissende ever again, or to even consider speaking with her in the way I observed when I came upon you in this glade a short time ago, I will restrain myself from dealing with you as my instincts prompt me, and forgo driving my sword through your chest where you stand.”
He felt Alissende go rigid against him, and he gently squeezed her shoulder in comfort, adding with a cold smile, “But I will see you at Odiham, never fear.”
Hugh grinned, a predatory look sharpening his features. Taking one step back, he barked a laugh and retorted, “Ah, Sir Damien, in other circumstances, I might have actually found reason to like you. But at the least, I shall enjoy facing you on the field—and besting you.”
