Lord Of Danger by Stuart, Anne (android based ebook reader .TXT) 📕

Not that any child of Plantagenet blood could ever be innocent. Particularly a son of John Lackland, the worst king England had yet known. And the chance of an early death for the monarch was high—if Richard didn’t see to it then someone else would likely do the job.

Still, Simon hadn’t decided. And he wouldn’t decide until the sleeping draught was made, tested, and hidden away from Richard’s prying servants.

His virgin bride fell asleep almost immediately, which shouldn’t have come as a surprise to him. There was something infinitely restful about the ease with which she slept, particularly in his presence. He was accustomed to unnerving people, and he had little doubt that Alys found him unsettling. Just not enough to keep her awake.

He stripped off his enveloping robe, moving about the room in his tunic and hose, his sleeves rolled up to bare the scarred hand and arm. She slept and he would resist her. He worked and she would dream of him.

And it would be a long, stormy night indeed.

Thomas had no choice but to drag her from the room. Claire had watched her sister depart, horrified tears filling her beautiful eyes, and she’d risen, obviously planning to go after her, to pull her sister away from Simon of Navarre.

It would have been foolish and useless, but Thomas felt a grudging softness in his heart for her. He’d shielded her smaller frame with his large one, drawing her into the shadows by force as Richard was distracted by a troupe of acrobats.

She fought him, but he simply wrapped his strong arms around her slender form and held her tight against his body, one hand clamped over her mouth as he half carried, half dragged her through the arched portal into the darkened hall beyond. She kicked him, her soft leather shoes negligible against his tall boots, and he half expected her to aim for his balls. She didn’t though, and he considered she might not even know where a man was most vulnerable.

Ah, but she did know. She could knee him between the legs and he would writhe with pain, but it was nothing compared to what she could do to his carefully protected honor.

He waited until they were out in the courtyard before he released her mouth, and he was rewarded with a shrill, furious scream, one that was echoed in the stables. Thomas had no doubt which horse was answering his mistress. “Bastard,” she said furiously. “Cowardly dog! I won’t let her be sacrificed! I’ll stop it, I swear…”

She tried to turn and run, but he caught her around the waist and dragged her back against him. She was panting with fury and exertion, her silken hair was tickling his nose, and he could smell the heady scent of musk perfume that she wore. It aroused him, as always, a fact he deplored. Her rounded buttocks were pressed against his hips, and he knew he was growing hard, and he knew there wasn’t a thing he could do about it Prayers and repentance had no effect except to make him feel more guilty. No matter what his soul and honor said, his body knew the truth.

“There’s nothing you can do,” he said grimly, letting her wear herself out. “He’s her husband, she spoke the wedding vows. No one forced her—it was her choice.”

“She did it for me!” Claire wailed. “She went with that… that monster for my sake, and I can’t let her do it! If you won’t help me, at least let me go and save her myself. If I don’t hurry it will be too late!”

“She’s only been gone a few minutes,” Thomas said wryly. “It’ll take him that long to get her up to his solar.”

“What if he stops to kiss her on the stairs?”

There was sudden silence between them. He had done just that, kissed her on the stairs, kissed her with his heart and soul and body, and if he were any other man it wouldn’t have stopped there.

“No one has the right to interfere between a husband and wife,” he said, fighting back the memory of Gwyneth and her lascivious baron. “She’s made her choice.”

“For me!” Claire wailed.

He spun her around, his temper shredding. “The world does not revolve around you, Lady Claire! If you weren’t so busy thinking of your own concerns you would have realized that Lady Alys was more than willing to marry Simon of Navarre, and her reasons had less to do with you and more to do with her own wants.”

“How could she have wanted to marry him?” Claire demanded, aghast.

He shook her, hard enough to startle her out of her self-absorption. “Not every female on this earth is shallow and vain and stupid,” he snapped.

She was suddenly very calm. Dangerously so, like the center of a huge storm before it began to blow once more. “Well,” she said, “that’s a small improvement. At least you are no longer convinced that all women are worthless, even if I still fit that category.”

“You’re not worthless.”

“But I’m shallow and vain and stupid, aren’t I?” she snapped back.

“Shallow and vain,” he said, no longer caring about the risk. “And stupid if you think you can stop whatever’s going to happen in that tower room. Don’t let your sister’s act be a waste. She went with him willingly, and it wasn’t only for your sake. But if you blunder up there and set everything at odds, it will all be in vain, and neither of you will end up happier. Let it be, Claire.”

It was the first time he’d used her name, but she didn’t seem to notice. She blinked back the ready tears, and he knew he could have been lost in her eyes. He couldn’t blame witchcraft, or evil spells. He could only blame his errant heart.

She looked up at him with a face full of hope and fear, longing and despair. She looked