The Bride and the Brute (5 page)

“I didn’t know,” Jayce repeated, bowing her head, taking the comments one by one, outwardly showing no sign of distress, but inwardly dying with each lash of his tongue. Was this what Reese thought of her? Could she blame him if he did?

Reese wasn’t going to defend her. No one was. It was what they all believed. It was what Reese believed.

“And now, why stay? Unloved. Unwanted.”

“Morse,” Reese growled a warning.

But Jayce barely heard him. Her hands were shaking, and she clenched them so tight that her fingers turned purple.

Alone. Abandoned.

“Take back every single rude remark, sir. You have offended the lady.”

Jayce looked up to find Sir Dylan standing before the table, his hand at his sword. Relief, gratitude, and something akin to pride swept through her.

Morse leaned back in his chair, his dark eyes summing Dylan up in a sweeping glance. “But everything I’ve said is true.”

Dylan’s jaw clenched. “She is lady of this castle and Lord Reese’s rightful wife.”

“Then why doesn’t he defend her?”

Dylan cast Reese an angry glance, then turned his hot, youthful eyes onto the dark man.

“Take back your words.”

One side of Morse’s mouth curved into a grin. “I don’t think so,” he said.

Anxiety tightened Jayce’s stomach.

“Then, I challenge you to a joust for Lady Jayce’s honor,” Dylan said.

Reese had come half out of his chair, but froze when the fighting words came from Dylan’s mouth.

The great hall reverberated with the challenge as the announcement was repeated throughout the room.

Suddenly, Morse erupted in laughter, a rich rolling guffaw trilling from his throat like a trumpet. As abruptly as it started, it ended. He leaned forward, his hands splayed over the table.

“It would be my pleasure,” he said.

Jayce knew this man they called Morse would defeat young Dylan. He had a brutal dark look in his eyes that unnerved her. Dylan’s hot-headedness would be his downfall. She wanted to tell Dylan he didn’t have to defend her, but she didn’t want to embarrass the young knight.

Reese was the one who should be challenging the man.

Jayce swung her gaze to Reese. He stood, staring at Dylan with hard, unflinching eyes. But he didn’t say a word. Finally, he whirled and left the great hall.

Morse’s laughter echoed through the room, following Reese’s footsteps.

Jayce glanced at Nicole, who didn’t move. The color had drained from her face as she stared at Dylan. Then, Jayce stood and raced after Reese. She turned a corner in the hallway.

“Reese!” she called.

He halted, his back as straight as a board. He didn’t turn to her, and Jayce clenched her fists, refusing to budge from her spot.

“You can’t let Dylan fight him,” she announced to his back.

Reese turned slowly, his blue eyes flashing with anger.

“You’re lord of this castle,” she snapped. “It’s your duty to protect those beneath you.

Dylan---”

“Is young and foolish. You’ve won him over with your charm, and now it will cost him his honor and his dignity.”

“Then stop him,” Jayce ordered. “Order him not to fight.”

“I can’t,” Reese replied, moving toward her. “He would be humiliated and disgraced.

You’re the one that has to do it. Tell him your honor is not worth fighting for.”

Jayce would do it in an instant, if she weren’t so afraid of hurting the young knight’s pride.

But was his pride worth his life? Many knights had been wounded in such challenges and some even killed.

Dylan was impetuous and brash, and she admired him very much for coming to her defense, but she also knew she could not watch him face Morse.

“She will do no such thing,” a voice announced from behind her.

Jayce whirled to see Dylan storming from the great hall, his eyes blazing with anger. He marched past her toward Reese. He had to look up to stare Reese in the eye, but Dylan did so unflinchingly.

“Lady Jayce’s honor is worth all the gold in the land. It is worth all the stars in the sky.

And it is most certainly worth my honor and my life,” Dylan told him.

Jayce’s pride rose to soaring heights, but was deflated by her conscience. She opened her mouth to speak, but Dylan continued.

“But I have no intention of dying. I will defeat Lord Morse in battle and uphold Lady Jayce’s virtue.”

And the way he said it, with vibrancy and conviction, almost made Jayce believe it. His confidence was contagious and warmed Jayce’s heart. After all, he had been the only one to come to her defense. Not even Reese had challenged Morse. She turned her stare to her husband.

His jaw was clenched tight, his blue eyes narrowed. His gaze slid from Dylan’s to meet Jayce’s. For a long, heart-stopping moment, there was cold resolve in his eyes. He would say nothing, could not say anything to persuade the devoted knight to call off the joust.

“Sir Dylan,” Jayce called, knowing that if she couldn’t convince him to stop the joust, no one could. When he turned his brown eyes to her, his gaze softened and a smile brimmed on his lips. “I appreciate all you’ve done for me.”

“I would do so much more,” he vowed. “I would walk to the ends of the earth. I would brave---”

Jayce grinned. “I’m flattered. But this joust is...” She sought the right words, the proper way to tell Dylan he had no chance. But when she saw the smile fade from the young knight’s lips, she faltered. “… it is simply that I...” Jayce floundered, watching a crestfallen look darken Dylan’s face. “It’s not you. It’s the joust. It is...” She glanced at Reese helplessly, imploringly.

“It’s the blood,” Reese supplied. “Her fair senses could not tolerate a drop of your blood being shed.”

“Yes!” Jayce exclaimed. “I find blood repulsive. Especially when it comes from one of my favored knights.”

The smile returned in full force to Dylan’s lips. “My lady flatters me now. I promise that not a drop of my blood shall I spill to the earth to upset you.” Dylan reached for Jayce’s hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles.

Jayce glanced at Reese over Dylan’s head to find his scowl deepening. Jayce swallowed, and desperately blurted, “No, Sir Dylan. I want you to call off the joust.”

Dylan froze over her knuckles for a long moment.

Jayce’s insides trembled. If a direct order did not work, she knew there would be no way to stop the joust. He straightened stiffly to face her. “My honor is not worth your life,” Jayce said, and saw the disappointment cloud his eyes.

“I’m sorry, m’lady,” Dylan finally replied. “I will not call off the joust.” He cast an accusing glance at Reese. “Since there is no one man enough to defend you, then I will face Lord Morse, even if I do not have your favor.” He turned and walked rigidly away.

Jayce lifted her hand to stop him, opened her mouth to call to him, to explain that he had her favor, her gratitude, but Reese grabbed her outstretched hand, halting her.

“Give him time to think,” he said. “He may yet call off the joust.”

Jayce savagely pulled her hand free of his hold and turned furious eyes to him. “This was your idea! Now I have insulted the only man who was brave enough to come to my defense, brave enough to defend my honor. Even braver than my own husband.”

Reese drew himself up to his full height, his eyes flashing like lightning. “I am not your husband.”

“Because we did not consummate the marriage? You made a vow before God!”

“I was protecting my sister.”

“And now Dylan is protecting me,” Jayce retorted, tears stinging her eyes. “And he might die because you’re too cowardly to defend me.”

Reese grabbed her shoulders, his fingers curved like claws, his lips drawn back in a feral snarl. “I’m not a coward.”

“Then why won’t you face Morse? Why won’t you protect me?”

“I will not fight my brother.”

Chapter Eleven

Reese watched the dance of emotions play across Jayce’s face. The shock, then understanding, and finally acceptance. But with the acceptance came something else... hurt and resignation. He watched those deep blue eyes shimmer like the sea before she turned her head away. “I don’t know what else to do,” she whispered in an agonized voice that called to Reese’s heart for help, for guidance, for protection.

Reese dropped his hands stiffly to his sides, releasing her shoulders. “This is your problem,” he proclaimed, suddenly angry she had somehow drawn him into this situation, furious she had made him feel guilty when he was nothing of the sort. He turned his back on her and marched down the hallway. He didn’t know how to help her. He didn’t know how to stop the joust, even if it could be stopped, without humiliating Dylan and infuriating his brother.

He cursed silently as he kicked open the door to his temporary room. He swept into his chamber and began pacing from one end of the room to the other, his mutterings sounding like the grumblings of a caged lion. He didn’t have the solution! He didn’t have all the answers.

Why did Morse have to return now? His brother had been gone for three years, traveling through England, working as a mercenary. Reese had been angry enough when he had left, positive he would never see Morse again. After all, what did the boy know of warfare?

Before Morse left, Reese had tried everything to draw him into the close circle he and Nicole had formed, but somehow it had never worked. He had even offered Morse a parcel of Harrington land to rule as his own. But somehow that offer had insulted Morse greatly. He left Castle Harrington only days later. Morse had even refused Reese’s generous gift of coin to help him start off.

There had not been a more inopportune time for Morse’s return than now, before he had settled this situation with Jayce.

Reese raked his hands through his hair and whirled to face the setting sun, his thoughts turning to Jayce. She didn’t want Dylan to fight any more than he did. Then why couldn’t she have listened to me? Reese wondered. Why couldn’t she have stayed in her room?

“Women,” he growled.

Whatever the case, Reese knew he could not interfere in the battle. He had no desire to face his brother in a joust.

There came a demanding knock at the door. “Reese.”

Reese lifted his head to find Morse entering. His brother had been but a boy when he left the castle three years ago. But now he was a man. A surge of pride filled Reese. His brother would make a fine lord. Then, his eyes met the dark orbs of his brother, so different from his and Nicole’s blue ones. They were narrowed in fierce fury, his jaw clenched with anger.

They stared at each other for a long moment. The unease spread through Reese as if the three years had never happened, as if all the old discomfort had suddenly awaked from a deep slumber, still as ugly and awkward as ever. He cursed silently, wishing they could get along as well as he and Nicole did. “Where were we?” Reese finally said. “I think you were just about to tell me of your travels. I trust they were exciting.”

“Apparently not as exciting as what’s happened to you,” came the rejoinder. Morse drew himself up to his full height, but still was not as tall as Reese. Morse had to look up at his brother. “How can you permit her in your castle?”

“Her?”

“She has humiliated and insulted our family, kidnapping Nicole, forcing you into marriage,”

Morse condemned. “You should have had her beheaded the first chance you got as retribution for our family’s honor.”

“Beheaded?” Reese almost smiled. “That’s a little harsh, isn’t it?”

“You make light of the situation while the tart drags our name through the mud. She has insulted us. I, for one, will not tolerate it.”

Reese’s jaw clenched. He felt an odd surge of resentment course through him. “She is no tart,” he retorted. “And as for dragging our name through the mud...” He locked eyes with his brother meaningfully. “It has survived far worse.”

Morse gritted his teeth, the insult not lost on him. “People are saying you are weak to have allowed Cullen to force you into marriage.”

Reese straightened. “I would have done anything to save Nicole.”

“You should have stormed the castle.”

“And by the time I found where they were keeping her, Cullen would have slit her throat.

Nothing was worth that.”

Morse glared at him. “So, you wed and bedded the wench?”

Reese shook his head. “The marriage was not consummated.”

“But the sheets---”

“The only blood shed that day was mine,” Reese admitted. “I’ve started a letter of annulment. I will not be forced into marriage. But I will not behead a defenseless woman, either.”

Morse frowned.

“I’m not a fool.” Reese turned his back to Morse to gaze out the window. “So, you see, there is no reason for this joust to proceed.”

“Dylan challenged me.”

“Dylan is as impetuous as you,” Reese said. “Still, he will not call off the joust. I would appreciate it if you did.”

“Is that an order, m’lord?”

Reese heard the bitterness in his tone, the resentment. “No,” Reese sighed. “It is a request.”

“Then I will regretfully have to decline.”

Reese turned to Morse. “Dylan is no match for you. You’ll kill him.”

Morse smiled. “He never should have challenged me. Besides, I fight for the honor of the Harringtons.”

Reese felt anguish wash over him. He couldn’t help but feel this was his fault. And there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Chapter Twelve

Jayce stood beside Nicole the following day at noon, trembling. It wasn’t the slight wind that made her cold. Even though the sun hid behind clouds, it was a very warm day. Yet, she still felt a chill. The wooden platform she and Nicole stood upon creaked each time they shifted their weight.

Jayce’s gaze scanned the field and the fenced area surrounding the arena for Reese, but he had not come. He doesn’t care, she thought. She bowed her head in disappointment.

Nicole squeezed her hand. “Don’t worry,” she promised. “It will turn out fine.”

“He’s your brother, too,” Jayce murmured. “Don’t you care about Morse?”