Midnight Eyes by Brophy, Sarah (well read books .TXT) 📕

She walked stiffly to the chair two paces in front of her and sat down on the edge, clasping her hands tightly. For a second the man seemed to pause indecisively, and then he pulled back the other chair gratingly and sat down heavily.

A big man, Imogen mused. A man whose knees didn’t fit in the space she had left between the chair and the footstool, a man who made her solidly built furniture groan.

She had never really thought about his physical proportions, but a knight would have to be big, strong. Small men did not kill easily. Roger had never had the body mass to be a true knight. He couldn’t bring down a man with one swing of a sword, couldn’t physically control those around him. No, he had to use the more subtle method of fear and isolation. This man he had sent to her won through sheer bulk.

It was hard to say which she found the most horrifying at the moment. Perhaps that was why Roger had chosen him. Robert was a physical threat that he couldn’t make himself. Roger could torture her with his little games, but this man could crush her with one hand.

She mentally shook herself. There were smaller things to be concerned about here, like returning the chair to its spot if she wanted to avoid yet another bruise.

“I’m sorry for my rude silence, Lady Imogen,” Robert said slowly, “but you aren’t quite what I had been led to expect.”

He was trying desperately not to stare like some callow youth, and hoping against hope that she wouldn’t notice the red heat that had risen and swamped his face.

She smiled bitterly. “Surprise must be one of the downsides of buying without first checking the stock.”

He went absolutely rigid. He had expected politeness, been prepared for patronizing, but he hadn’t ever thought that she would be openly rude. That wasn’t his understanding of how ladies acted.

His first instinct was to return like for like, but some part of his mind whispered about the vulnerability that lay beneath those bitter words and held him in check.

That part of him understood it very well. It was the reaction of a wounded animal to lash out wildly. Instead of getting in range of the claws, he knew it was better to wait till the fear and pain had played itself out.

“I don’t think of you as purchased,” he said tightly, “and I would prefer it if you also refrain from such merchant talk.”

“I apologize.” She raised her chin an inch. “You are right, of course. I wasn’t purchased. It was my land you were bargaining for. I’m just the sting in the tail: the catch at the end of the bargain. It must be depressing to finally have your Keep, but to also have to take possession of Lady Deformed as well.”

She smiled at him silkily. “And what a very brave knight you must be to accept a bargain that binds you in marriage to Lady Deformed.”

His lips tightened, and he held his temper with the greatest difficulty. “I do not care for that name, and I will not have it mentioned again.”

“What? ‘Lady Deformed’? That would be too harsh, Sir Knight. The poor women who look after the Keep lead such dreary lives that they have little else to talk of. Who are we to deprive them of such small pleasures?”

“If their pleasures interfere with my honor, then I’m afraid I will have them stopped.” He leaned closer, trying to catch her gaze, but she stared resolutely over his shoulder. “Besides, I see no need for the name. I can see no imperfection to warrant such harshness.”

Her hands gripped more tightly to each other, her nails drawing blood.

He hadn’t noticed! It seemed incredible to her, the darkness too evident to be hidden.

Perhaps he was attempting gallantry. Perhaps…but it didn’t make sense any way she shifted it about. Her brother hadn’t sent her a lover. He had sent her a punishment, and punishments didn’t entice with honeyed words. No, they pulled you apart piece by piece.

There had to be some deeper game being played here, some tactical reason for claiming her imperfections invisible.

Maybe he wanted to hear her declare her deformity. Maybe he was like her brother and enjoyed making her destroy herself. It had always made Roger feel like he was stronger than a god when he had brought her to her knees.

She tightened her jaw. She was not ready to play dead for this man yet. “Knight, I’ve no patience for idle flattery. My deformities are plain for all to see and I will not be mocked. Our marriage may give the rights to my land and my body, but I will not give you my pride on a platter. So beware.”

He raised a hand in supplication. “I meant no offence. I’m a blunt man and the subtleties you speak of are not in my nature. I was stating an honest puzzlement.”

“You mean you really don’t know?” she asked incredulously. “You mean my brother hasn’t prepared you for the role he wants you to play?”

Robert paused, trying to find the diplomacy that was normally lacking in his character. “Your brother and I do not move in the same circles,” he said carefully, not mentioning that he thought of Roger more as something that slithered out from under a rock than as a man. That didn’t seem to be the kind of thing that you mentioned to a man’s sister, however.

Nothing makes any sense, she thought with some agitation. She stood abruptly and began pacing.

“What does it mean?” she muttered darkly to herself, trying desperately to understand this latest ploy of Roger’s. In her agitation she forgot that Robert had moved the chair and his shout of warning came too late. She ran into the back of the chair and was beginning to topple over when strong arms grabbed her, steadying her against his firm chest.

For a moment she forgot her fear, and gave herself