His face suddenly came up, looking at her. The clear blue eyes were wet with unshed tears. “Of course not,” he whispered. “For I, quite clearly, am deeply in love with you.”
Her grin broadened. “Marry me now, Sean. Marry me and let us grow old together.”
“Would that I could, sweetling.”
“Why not?”
“Because there is too much looming in the near future. You and I have much to discuss.”
She thought on that a moment. “Will these events in the future affect us?”
“Aye.”
“Is it possible that they will affect us so that we will never marry?”
“We will marry, have no doubt. But these events….”
“Then if we will marry, I would do it now. Please, Sean. That way, no one can ever rightfully keep us apart.”
He hadn’t the will or the heart to refuse her. He wanted it as badly as she did, probably more. William Marshall, therefore, had to amend his promise; it was difficult to say no to such a beautiful lady. Sean received his bride before finishing his task,leaving the task of breaking the news to Jocelin to the Marshall. Though William didn’t mind that he was to be the bearer of unwelcome information, he minded the fact that his bargain was somehow twisted in Sean’s favor.
Even as Father Simon married Sean and Sheridan with Gilby and the Marshall as witness, still, William could only hope that Sean would follow through and keep his part of the bargain. Once, William had asked Sean to trust him. Now William would have to do the same.
But those thoughts were violently dashed as they quit the chapel and ran head-long into the king, preparing to take Vespers with his retainers. John took one look at Sheridan and Sean knew they were in for a world of trouble.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“…the game was afoot. I had stepped into a new world of deception and subversion that I could hardly begin to comprehend. Everything I had worked for was in danger of shattering but, strangely enough, I did not care. I had my wife and that was all that mattered….”
The Chronicles of Sir Sean de Lara
1206 – 1215 A.D.
Sean had alwaysthought fast on his feet. In his vocation, it was an essential and practiced skill. As he looked at the king’s sagging face, his senses rapidly calculated the situation, the odds, and the path of most convincing progress. Never in his life had he faced something so critical; now it wasn’t only his life at stake, but his wife’s. He fought down his shock for the sake of thinking clearly.
The Marshall had not followed them from the chapel. He and Father Simon were still inside, aware that the king and his entourage were at the threshold. With the focus on Sean, they were able to slip away unseen. Realizing this, Sean’s peripheral senses reached out to Gilby and Sheridan, standing just to his right. The old man would be inconsequential to the king; he was one of the Tower physics, an old man that hardly presented a threat.
As Sean faced the king, many thoughts ran through his mind and it was a matter of selecting the most plausible one. He fixed John straight in the eye.
“Sire,” he said smoothly. “I was on my way to seek your audience.”
John wasn’t looking at Sean; he was looking at Sheridan. “You are supposed to be riding to the Marches,” he commented casually. “Why are you still here? And who is this?”
Sean kept his composure. “The army is mobilized, sire, though getting out of the city now under siege will take some difficulty,” he reminded him yet again what a folly it was to be sending an army to the Marches while London was under attack. “I was distracted from my departure by this lady I now hold captive.”
A leering smile spread across John’s lips, full of indelicate suggestions of lustful thoughts. “And does your captive have a name?”
Sean’s expression didn’t change. “Good news, sire,” he answered. “I have within my control an excellent investment for the future of your reign. Be presented to the Lady Sheridan St. James.”
John’s eyes widened. He clapped his hands together as an excited child would have. “Sheridan St. James,” he reached out, fingering a tendril of blond hair. “By God’s Rood, d’Athée was correct. She is exquisite. But what is she doing here? D’Athée told me the last he saw of you and Lady Sheridan, you were both fleeing towards the Lanthorn Tower.”
It took all of Sean’s self-control not to break the man’s neck as he toyed with Sheridan’s hair. If he was going to pull this off and save both their lives, then he had to be convincing. He had to remain in control. But it was growing more difficult with each passing moment.
“We were, sire, until I was ambushed and the lady escaped,” he said evenly. “Be that as it may, she has been recaptured. And she is now my wife.”
John stopped toying. He looked at Sean as if the man had lost his mind. “She iswhat?”
“My wife. I have just married her.”
