A Knight of Passion (16 page)

Anger twisted the earl’s face, but the duchess interjected, “Riana is to marry Sir Ross.”

“You betrothed her to a man suspected of supporting King Edward III?” Sir Bryant asked.

Riana started. Sir Ross, suspected of collaborating with Balliol? Of course. What better way for the duchess to maintain control of Ellis land than to ally Riana with one of her own kind? But how had Sir Bryant known—and why was his answer so ready? Because, she realised, he knew about the
sentence of forfeiture
against the duke.

Triumph filled the duchess’ eyes. “I was unaware Sir Ross consorted with Balliol. But that explains why my husband commanded me to hand Riana over to Lord Camden. What better proof she is a traitor?”

“The
sentence of forfeiture
strips your husband of any authority,” Sir Bryant said. “His commands are meaningless.”

Riana’s heart pounded. Was it possible Sir Bryant might disentangle them from the duchess’ web?

“The decree will be rescinded once my husband proves he did not plot with the
Disinherited
,” the duchess replied.

Sir Bryant acknowledged this with an incline of his head. “Until that time, Riana will remain with me.”

“She will not,” Lord Camden cut in. “His Grace may not have the power to detain her, but I do. Lady Ellis goes with me.”

Bryant glanced at the dozen men-at-arms standing behind the earl, then met the man’s gaze. “Nay, my lord, she will not.”

“Insolent fool. I will take Lady Ellis
and
throw you in prison.”

Riana riveted her gaze on the men-at-arms who appeared from the trees. Within seconds, at least two hundred men bearing the crest of Sir Bryant and Sir Dunbar stood near their lords.

Lord Camden glanced at the men, then addressed Sir Bryant, “
You
challenge me?”

Riana stepped close enough that only Sir Bryant could hear her whisper, “My lord, I am not worth the lives of so many.”

A gentle smile curved his mouth upwards. “You are worth at least the life of one.”

She frowned, but before she could comprehend his meaning, he eased her aside and levelled his gaze on the earl. “Aye, my lord, I challenge you.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Comprehension struck and crippling fear stabbed Riana soul-deep.
“You are worth at least the life of one.”
Sir Bryant didn’t intend to wage battle. No army would fight side-by-side with him.

Single combat.

He alone would fight Lord Camden…to the death.

A mental picture flashed of Sir Bryant lying on the ground, blood spilling from a gaping chest wound inflicted by the earl’s sword.

Riana ignored the stares and grasped his arm. His eyes shifted to her and softened.

She choked back tears. “You must let me go.”

“If I cannot?”

“
You must
.”

“I must?”

“I will not let you come to harm,” she insisted.

He leaned close. “Riana, it is time someone protected
you
.”

Her heart pounded.

“When I am finished, I expect ample reward.” He winked.

Riana blinked, then emotion flooded her. “Die, my lord, and I will be hard on the heels of those hellhounds to drag you back.”

Surprise flashed across his face, then he yanked her close, kissed her hard, and released her. “I shall hold you to that
threat
.” Sir Bryant looked at the earl. “By your leave, my lord.”

Strong fingers closed around Riana’s arm and she met Sir Dunbar’s gaze. Her mind screamed for this madness to stop, but she allowed him to ease her back away from Sir Bryant.

“I have enough men to ensure your death,” Lord Camden said.

“You refuse my challenge?”

“What right have
you
to challenge me?”

“Single combat recognises the might of the sword. Your earldom is meaningless.”

The earl flicked a glance at the duchess, who addressed Riana. “Do not be a fool, Riana.”

“He is your
champion
,” Riana replied. “Let him prove his worth.”

 
“Bring your whore to heel,” Lord Camden snapped.

Sir Bryant drew his sword from its leather scabbard. “You are mine—

unless you can pay one of your men
enough to meet my challenge in your stead.”

His men backed away.

Lord Camden drew his sword. “I will slit you from chest to groin, then fuck your woman before you’ve bled to death.”

He lunged.

Sir Bryant thrust his sword out and intercepted the downward slice of the blade. Riana jumped at the ring of steel against steel. Sir Bryant swung his sword low. Lord Camden deflected the blow and retreated a step. His face contorted in rage and he leapt forward, parrying left, then right. Sir Bryant met each strike, then swung his blade downwards and sliced Lord Camden’s thigh. The thin fabric slit open and blood stained his hose. Lord Camden jabbed. His sword nicked the sleeve of Sir Bryant’s gambeson.

Riana’s heart leapt into her throat when Sir Bryant dodged the swipe of the earl’s blade across his belly. Sir Bryant pivoted, bringing his sword across the earl’s sword above the hilt. Lord Camden cursed, and Sir Bryant thrust. The tip pierced the earl’s side. His rage-filled cry split the air as he charged.

Sir Bryant backed away, his sword glinting in the sunlight. Riana squinted at the flash of light. Lord Camden swung hard, forcing Sir Bryant’s blade down, and leapt forward. He snagged Sir Bryant’s ankle with his own and yanked as he punched his belly. Sir Bryant hit the ground with a thud. Riana leapt forward, but was seized around the waist and pulled against a large body. She clawed at the arm banded around her. Lord Camden raised his sword above Sir Bryant’s heart and drove it downwards.

“No!” she screamed. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

Sir Bryant deflected the blade with his free arm and rammed his sword into the earl’s belly.

Riana froze.

Lord Camden stiffened. He stared at Sir Bryant in wide-eyed disbelief.

“You will never again fuck another woman.” Sir Bryant gave a vicious twist of his sword inside the earl’s belly.

Blood gushed from the wound. Sir Bryant yanked his sword free and rolled to the side as Lord Camden clutched his belly and crashed to his knees. The earl’s mouth worked as if he was trying to say something, then he fell face-forward onto the ground. Only Sir Bryant’s deep breaths broke the thick silence.

Then the duchess spoke. “You will hang for murder.”

Sir Bryant shoved himself to his feet. “The right of single combat protects me,
Your Grace
.”

Riana didn’t breathe in the tense moment that passed before the earl’s men turned and headed around the castle walls. A moment later, the duchess stood without protection.

* * * *

Sir Bryant caught Riana to him as she flung herself into his arms. He stumbled back a pace at the force of her weight head-on. She was crying into his gambeson.

“Forgive me.”

She gave him a feminine punch to the stomach. He sucked in a breath.

“You are a fool for coming here,” she blubbered. More tears followed.

“This is not the
reward
I had in mind,” he said.

She looked up. Tears shimmered in her eyes. She stared for a moment, then his heart stilled when she slid her hand up his chest and around his neck. Riana lifted onto tiptoes and pulled his mouth to hers. She brushed his lips with her own, moist and swollen from the effects of her tears. She leaned in to him, pressing her lush breasts against his chest, and flicked her tongue at his mouth. Her taste burst across his senses and the still-strange rush of emotion washed over him. He loved her.

Sir Bryant crushed her to him. He sucked her tongue into his mouth, tasting, sparring, thrusting as he was going to do inside her channel. His cock jerked to life with painful hardness. He pushed his tongue deeper. She moaned.

She was his.

But wait. She wasn’t his. Not fully. They were no longer man and wife.

Bryant broke the kiss, breathing hard. Her fingers tightened around his neck. She struggled to meet his lips again. He pulled free, grasped her hand and started around the castle walls.

She tripped, and he righted her. “My lord,” she cried. “If you wish to spread my legs—”

“Spread your legs?” He gave her a hard yank, dragging her alongside as he would a recalcitrant mule.

“That is the reward you spoke of?” She hurried to keep up with his stride.

“Lady, before I
spread your legs
even one more time,
we shall be fully and
truly
married.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Riana stepped from the bathtub and into the waiting bath linen held by the young girl Mrs Carpenter had instructed to assist with her bath. Warmth from red-hot coals in the fireplace bathed her skin. She shivered, then recalled her similar reaction only five days ago, when she had stood naked beside the hearth in the bedchamber meant for Sir Dunbar.

A lump rose in her throat. Father Vaughn had been right. Only God could have orchestrated such a miracle.

She’d always known there was more to the hulking priest than met the eye, but what power did he wield to be able to force the archbishop to conduct a marriage ceremony that would be unimpeachable?

The fury that had flashed in Father Vaughn’s eyes when he learnt His Excellency had annulled the marriage had startled Riana. A clipped order to leave the archbishop to him was followed by a command for a horse. Four hours later, they had been married by the archbishop. With Father Vaughn as witness.

Riana had expected a quick consummation like the first one—had ached with anticipation—but her husband had decided this
consummation
would be a true wedding night. The ride back to Chilgoriam had taken two days instead of one as it had the first time. Sir Bryant wouldn’t have his new wife exhausted, despite her urging that they reach Chilgoriam as soon as possible. They had arrived and a tearful reunion with Siusan and Glen had even the women of Chilgoriam Castle in tears along with them.

Now Riana awaited Sir Bryant in his bedchamber, for the promised wedding night. Gooseflesh raced across her arms.

“Och,” the girl said. “You will catch a chill and Sir Bryant will have my hide.”

Riana’s stomach quivered. Would he have
her
hide?

The latch on the door clicked, then the door opened and he stood on the threshold. He dropped his gaze to her breasts, spilling over the towel. Desire darkened his green eyes before he lifted them to meet hers. Riana’s mouth went dry.

The maid glanced between them, then hurried to the door. Sir Bryant entered and the girl closed the door behind her. Riana forgot to breathe as he strode towards her. He grasped her shoulders, wrapped his arms around her, and tugged her close. He closed his mouth over hers. He traced the seam of her lips and when she opened he thrust inside and devoured her. Slow heat eddied through her veins like liquid silver. She whimpered.

A growl rumbled from his chest. He tore his mouth from hers, swept her off her feet, and had her on the bed in a moment. Her heart thundered in the seconds it took him to shuck his clothes. She sucked in a harsh breath at sight of his erection, then gasped at feel of his weight as he came down on top of her. He yanked the towel open and covered her breast with his palm. The warmth of his long fingers on her flesh sent a surge of hot juices to her aching sex. She arched into his hand.

“My lord,” she breathed.

He stared into her eyes. “My name.”

She blinked through the already heavy haze of desire.

He thrust his cock along the sensitive flesh of her inner thigh. Anticipation bubbled up from her core. She
needed
his hard staff buried deep inside her. His rod brushed her curls. Riana grasped his arm and tugged. He remained solid, unmoving.

“My name,” he repeated. “Say it.”

Riana searched his face. “Sir Bryant?”

He shifted and the hard ridge of his erection lay across her sex. “My name.” His words were hard.

Comprehension dawned. “Bryant,” she whispered.

He locked his eyes with hers, positioned himself over her and fitted his crown to her opening.

“My lo—”

“Nay,” he cut her off. “I want to hear my name when I enter you.”

Her breath froze as he lowered his mouth to hers. Slow and easy, he drew out the kiss as he stretched her opening and eased inside enough to bring her to a tremble. He ended the kiss, locked gazes with her, and thrust hard and deep.

“Bryant,” she cried, and hugged him close.

Bryant buried his face in her hair. Warm breath bathed her ear as he whispered, “Riana.”

Her heart raced.

He lifted himself on his elbows and pulled back until she feared his staff would slip out.

Eyes locked with hers, he thrust. “I love you.”