Angie Arms - Flame Series 03 (4 page)

Garrick stared at the man beside him.  After all the years they spent together
, he still did not understand Marcus.  He gave up his title to free the land from his own father.  Landry was a harsh man.  Marcus could not stand by and let the people continue to suffer, but he was too good of a man to kill his own father.  He gave his allegiance to Garrick, and could have gone back on his word and gained it all, but he did not.  He never contended the bastard child laying claim to all he was born to, and King Henry earned two good soldiers in return for ignoring Garrick’s heritage.  After Garrick returned from the Crusade, he was given a title, Marcus received nothing and never asked for anything.  Garrick could not understand this at all.

“What if her presence creates an uprising?” Garrick asked.  Perhaps it was the journey here
, or the sleepless night, but fatigue was sitting in, making him weary.  He wanted no more problems here.  If he took the keep by force, these people would be too terrified to play their tricks on him.

“The Countess knows her duty.  I hear things that lead me to believe she’ll be easy enough to handle.”

Garrick involuntarily snorted.  “She’s more than 20 and never been married.  I don’t think that makes for a woman who knows her duty.  I need you to find out about our obstinate guard, especially where the Countess is concerned.”

“Are you thinking there’s something there?”

Garrick shrugged, “To be honest I think I’m too tired to think anything.”

“I’ll see what I can find out.”

As soon as Garrick walked into the main hall, Winford came forward.  “We grow concerned for the Countess.  She has not eaten since your arrival.”

Garrick glared down at this boy.  It was hard to believe this dirty ragamuffin was the son of a lord.  It was amazing what title bastard could do to a person.  He was skin and bones
, but did not seem to know that, as he faced off with The Fenton Bastard.

Any urge Garrick had to aggravate or frighten his tormentor was swept away when he
remembered how badly things turned the previous evening.  Weariness washed over him again.  “She will be making an appearance in the hall tonight.  So you all will know I have not beaten her to death.”

The kid gasped at the insinuation their new lord had beaten on the countess they all loved
, as Garrick stepped around him and climbed the steps to their chamber.  Their chamber, what an odd notion, he thought.  The two guards nodded to him as he passed.  Marcus had stationed them there, he was better at choosing more loyal soldiers than Garrick, who went for brawn and brute potential. 

“I hear you will not eat.”

“I will not eat until you let me out of here.”

“You only hurt yourself by not eating,” he said the words edged with steel.

“And what of those precious heirs I’m supposed to bare you,” he heard the resentment at being used as a brood mare.  “Will they come out the worse because I starved?”

It was a bold decree, one Garrick didn’t know if it could be possible or not.  She had to be the first person in many years to stand up to him
, and the fact she wielded no sword, not even a knife, made him want to laugh at the same time making him uneasy.  Instead he turned saying, “Will you behave and not attack me?  Create a riot?  If you do not, I will keep you in chains.”

The hostility in his voice was one he used often to command his forces of blood thirsty knights
, but she straightened and looked him in the eye.  “I will behave.”

“Furthermore, you will speak only to those I tell you you may.”

A delicate, perfectly formed light colored brow arched, and she crossed her arms stubbornly over her chest.  “Will you beat me if I don’t obey?”

“I will put you in chains until the day you give me an heir
, or longer if I so desire,” he said, with all the certainty he had that the sun would rise and set each day.

Feeling enough of his time had been wasted
, he stepped back to her and seized her roughly by the arm and dragged her from the room.  He dragged her all the way to the dining hall, and she followed struggling to keep up.  As soon as she entered, she saw Christopher chained in the corner.  She dug her feet in.  “He has been beaten,” she said with concern in her voice Garrick did not like. 

“By me,” he ground out
, then yanked her forward, never slackening his pace, and she had to run to keep from being pulled from her feet.  They reached the dais and he none to gently pushed her onto the bench, before sinking onto it beside her.  She glared at him, and in doing so, saw his lip was busted.  She looked quickly down at the table, not sure the man beside her couldn’t read her thoughts. She watched Christopher’s skills honed as she grew up with him.  He took his duties seriously, and was proficient in everything that might be required of him, including hand to hand.  He was fast and powerful, that this man beside her only came away with a busted lip, frightened her to her core.

“Why is Christopher chained?” she demanded
, trying to redirect her anger.

Garrick laughed
, but there was no humor in it.  “He insists he is loyal only to you and will pledge loyalty to me, only after you tell him it is okay to do so.”

“Then I will speak to him,” she said
, beginning to rise, but his hand came out to clamp over her slender wrist.  She settled back beside him, but he stared for a moment more at his big calloused hand marveling at the smooth feel of her skin underneath it.  When he looked away, it was to find her eyes on him.  He saw that familiar fear there, he could smell it.  She was the long awaited prey finally run to ground, and she knew it was only a matter of time before all her worst nightmares might possibly become a reality.

“How do you fare?” Christopher questioned from his corner.

“I have beaten her into compliance,” Garrick responded.

With a sound of exasperation coming from beside him
, the small bold voice replied, “I am well.  I think it is…”

Fury raced through Garrick, to keep from knocking the Countess’s jaw out of socket so she would have no choice but to obey him
, he slammed his fist down onto the table, making it quake under the blow.  “I think it is time you were quiet before someone is punished.”

The hall grew
quiet, and all eyes were on Ryann, because she didn’t know who would be receiving the punishment, she fell silent.  A trencher was placed between them and after a few bites Garrick realized she wasn’t sharing in the food.

“Why do you still not eat?”

“Because you keep my guard tied like a dog.”

He gave a nod to Marcus who immediately stood, crossed over to Christopher
, and released him from the shackles.  The man stiffly rose to his feet and moved toward Ryann and the dais. 

“You will come no further,” Garrick’s steel voice stated. 

“He goes where I go,” Ryann replied.

~ ~ ~ ~

Ryann was frozen in fear as she was yanked off the bench, Garrick’s face was blank as he moved quickly toward the guard
, dragging her behind him.  When he stopped, he pulled her so she was positioned nearly between them, facing her future husband.  Like a coward she refused to meet his gaze, staring at his powerful chest.  He stood patiently until her eyes slowly raised the length of him to meet his black orbs.  The smile that twisted his lips upward didn’t take any of the coldness out of his dark eyes.  With lightning speed he reached out and seized Christopher by the throat.  He spun so quickly no one had time to react to Garrick’s next move, which placed him directly in front of Ryann, and a knife to her guard’s throat.  Garrick had his free arm twisted around Christopher’s arm, and any movement either pressed the blade against his skin, or sent fire shooting through his shoulder, as his arm was pulled nearly from its socket by the deadly man standing behind him.

“Your guard can’t go where you go if he is dead Countess.”

“Please!” Ryann began, but fear for Christopher seized her tongue and she could only stare at Garrick in horror. 

“Is that another demand?”

“No,” she gulped out.

“No Lord Fenton,” he corrected.  She saw on his face that he was amused
, and that made her blood run cold that he would toy with her in such a manner.

“No Lord Fenton.”

“What price would you pay for your guard’s life?”

She studied his face
, but saw no quarter there, no answers, no life beyond the death that was on his face.

“Anything,” her voice cracked with terror.

Garrick seemed to consider this for a moment.  “You will wed me, obey me, and give me heirs.  In return, your guard can live and remain by your side, if he declares allegiance to me.”

“I will my lord.”

He turned his attention to Christopher, his eyes cold, his voice even colder.  “I plan to bed her, whether she’s willing or not.”  Garrick lowered his voice, but not enough that Ryann didn’t hear, and his intense gaze made coldness settle in her stomach.

“I cannot allow you to hurt her.”

“And I cannot allow you to get in the way of all my plans,” Garrick said, his voice rising.  “If you do not declare your allegiance now, you will die here.”

“Christopher, you must,” Ryann ordered her guard, her eyes locked to the man she saw would easily kill any man or woman who stood in his way.

“I declare my allegiance to you Lord Fenton,” Christopher said, and suddenly Garrick released him, shoving him away, and at the same time reaching out to grab Ryann.  Her heart seized in her throat when he crushed her to him.  She could feel every hard, lean muscle, as his one arm held her around her waist.  His free hand came up, his fingers digging into her hair, pulling her head back.  His brown eyes locked with hers and he stood staring at her for what seemed the longest time, as her heart hammered in her chest.  She saw something flash in his eyes, for just the briefest of moments there was something there other than death, then he dropped his head to hers and claimed her lips with his own.  It was a brutal attack, one that made her feel like fleeing, but fear kept her rooted to the spot.  His tongue came out and licked teasingly at her lips, making her eyes fly open.

Garrick didn’t watch her, his cold stare was directed behind her, to Christopher she did not doubt.  She felt his hand splay across her back, the tips of his fingers bit into her lower back as they pressed into her, pulling her body closer still.  Every thought in her head fled and her knees grew weak when his eyes were suddenly back on hers.  She saw a smirk, although she got the feeling it was more a smile on the face of a man who never smiled, cross his face before his hand travelled down to cup her ass
, and in doing so swayed his hips into hers so she felt his desire.  Then that same splayed hand travelled upward, she felt the heat of it through her clothes, up her side, all the way up to linger just beside her breast.  His lips left her, but lingered threateningly a breath away, as he watched her.

He raised his eyes to stare at Christopher a moment before his hand clamped to her breast, his finger tips rough and demanding
, making her grimace.  She looked up at him, the horror sitting in on her that this was a display for her guard alone, his brown eyes cold, terrifying, as they challenged Christopher.  Would he kill her to prove his point?  No, he couldn’t kill her, she reasoned, but he could beat her, kill Christopher, or any of her other people. 

After that first moment of pain
, Garrick’s grip eased on her, no longer bruising, but so boldly there, no doubt claiming his property.  His eyes came back to hers at the same time his head lowered and took her lips again, gently this time, his tongue feather light on her lips.  The hand at her breast fell away to go back around her waist, pulling her closer, his hand tightening in her hair, tilting her head back, making her mouth come open to gasp against the pain, but his tongue invaded and her senses reeled.  Her knees weakened and it was only Garrick’s strong grip that kept her on her feet.  He was so gentle, softly playing with her tongue, sucking gently on her lips.  She was lost in her surprise that this man had any gentleness in him, she felt his heart beating against her chest, it thundered in her ears, and she placed a hand on his chest to feel it under her palm.  His chest, so broad, so strong was so warm, she curled her fist into the fabric of his shirt.  Slowly he withdrew from her mouth, his head raising as he watched her intently, and she felt herself flush.  His hand slipped from around her waist, and lastly he untwined his hand from her hair, his fingers stroking as he pulled his hand free, and both hands came up to take hers that still gripped him.  His knights yelled and called out lewdly to their leader some good naturedly, others perhaps not.  Pulling away, he led her back to the dais, and pushed her gently onto the bench. 

She felt as if she were in a daze as he slid onto it.  His legs slid against hers as he settled in.   She would have pulled hers away
, if his hand did not spread across her thigh, gripping it to keep her contact with him.  Once she was still, he pulled his hand away, and proceeded to eat.  She managed a few bites before her stomach lurched and twisted.  He sat the wine before her, and his eyes studied her as she took two long drinks, before offering it back to Garrick.  He shook his head, tisking he put his hand on the skin, pushing it back toward her.  She stared at him, his eyes reaching in, and for a brief moment she feared he would seize her soul, but then he looked away, over the hall, his hall, his people, and his face was blank.