Passion Over Time (27 page)

Chapter Twenty-One

Fury even darker than the first wave Bryant had experienced when he discovered Riana's absence rolled over him. His wife had fled at the first sign of trouble, then he’d arrived at Arundel to find another man’s hands on her. Lord Camden’s cock was firmly inside his hose, but Bryant wasn’t such a fool as to have missed the possessive way the man gripped her arm. The earl would have spread her legs before even leaving the keep. Then, between Arundel and Castle Barr, he would have bent her over a rock and fucked her arse. The only question Bryant hadn’t answered was whether Riana welcomed the man’s attentions.

Only last night she had acquiesced to Bryant with the passion and willingness of a woman in love. His jaw tensed. Perhaps Sir Dunbar was right—women didn’t change. Riana snapped her head in his direction and he realized his fingers had tightened around her arm without his volition. They reached the postern door and he opened it, allowing her to precede them.

Men-at-arms with the crests of Lord Fostar, Lord Camden, and the Duke of Arundel filled the great hall. The duke’s men stood in quiet groups throughout the room. Bryant wasn’t surprised they were subdued. They wanted the duke to be dealt with so that they could quickly distance themselves from the traitor they had served.

“Lord Camden.” A man near the table hurried forward. He met them half way across the room. “There is a maid who may know where the duke has gone.”

“What has she to say?” the earl demanded.

The man shook his head. “She refuses to speak with anyone but you.”

“My wife and I can await you in her former bedchamber,” Sir Bryant said. “That will give her time to gather her belongings.”

“You will not go anywhere,” Lord Camden ordered.

Bryant canted his head in acknowledgement. “Of course not, my lord, but surely you understand I would rather Riana was not in the fray.”

The men showed no signs of breaking into a mob, but Bryant couldn’t be sure the duke didn’t have some men still loyal to him. If things turned ugly, he didn’t want Riana in the middle of a fight. Not to mention the nearly overwhelming compulsion to get her alone and whip her to within an inch of her life—then kiss every inch of her body.

“I will instruct the guards that no one is to leave,” Sir Fostar said. “Our first duty is to find the duke.”

“It will be your neck if they leave.” Lord Camden turned to the waiting man and they strode toward the kitchen.

Lord Camden disappeared into the sea of men and Sir Fostar faced Bryant. “Be quick. The earl will take Lady Ellis when he returns, despite your men-at-arms.”

“But I gave you the information that allowed you to bring the
sentence of forfeiture
against the duke and duchess,” she said.

“You?” Sir Bryant cut in.

She nodded.

He snorted a mirthless laugh. “Lady, you are a fountain of information.”

She shot him a look that should have rendered him to ash. “Indeed, sir. I was in a unique position to gather information.”

A mental image flashed of her
positioned
in front of the informant as his cock pumped into her mouth. Bryant seized her wrist.

“Can we simply ride out of the gates?” Sir Dunbar interrupted.

“Leave by the quickest way you can,” Sir Fostar said.

“The guards will report you have allowed us to escape.” Riana said.

Bryant tightened his grip on her wrist. “Shall we leave by the passageway Siusan used to make her escape?”

Riana’s mouth thinned. “My lord, if you regret coming here, leave.” She yanked free of his hold and faced Sir Fostar. “I cannot allow you to risk your neck for me.”

The older man’s face softened. “Lord Camden holds no sway over me. But if he leaves with you, Riana, we cannot stop him, save by battle.”

She nodded, then faced Bryant. “There is no need for you to risk your life either, my lord. I can fend for myself.”

Her pictured her
fending
for herself against a band of men in the Scottish Highland wilds, and the terror he’d experienced upon learning she’d left Chilgoriam dug deeper into the gaping wound in his soul. He opened his mouth to threaten a beating if she didn’t willingly follow him now—and every day for the rest of her life—but stopped. Realization rolled over him like an avalanche. She could have escaped with Siusan and Glen to France without thought for the next assassin the duchess would send to kill him. Instead, she had returned to this hell—to save him.

She loved him.

It hadn’t occurred to him her feelings could have grown to such proportions. He gave a mental laugh. Just as it hadn’t occurred to her that the last twenty-four hours had been the worst of his life with the fear that she lay in some dark, remote place, bleeding, or worse, dead.

She didn’t realize he loved her.

And how could she know? Only a few days ago, he had come to her bed by accident, then married her with the intention of using her to control the duchess. Bryant grasped her hand and brought it to his lips.

She stood frozen when he pressed her slim fingers to his mouth. “Lady, the hounds of hell could not tear me from you.”

Her lips parted in surprise. “My lord—” She broke off, moisture appearing in her eyes.

“We must hurry,” he said. “Or the hounds may have a go at me, after all.”

Her eyes cleared. “Aye.” She glanced at Sir Fostar. “You will be safe?”

“Sir Andrew will stand by me.”

Just as Bryant knew he would stand by her.

****

Five minutes later, they reached the alcove on the north-western corner of the castle where the passageway was. Riana pulled back the tapestry that hid the niche and motioned Sir Bryant and Sir Dunbar inside. Her heart raced. Sir Bryant had come for her…had admitted publicly that he cared for her. She couldn’t let him risk his life without knowing she was not longer his wife.

Sir Dunbar slipped past her, then Sir Bryant. Riana grasped his arm. “My lord, I must tell you—”

He yanked her to him and crushed his mouth against hers. He plunged his tongue inside. The taste of him, salty, sweet,
and male
assaulted her. Riana’s head reeled. She sparred with his tongue, starved for him. Her core clenched and moisture flooded her channel. By all that was holy, if Sir Dunbar weren’t here, she would beg him to fuck her. Sir Bryant pulled back, breathing hard. Riana clung to him, her heart thundering in her breast.

He gave her a shake. “You will never again run away.”

She blinked his green eyes into focus.

“Do you understand?” he demanded.

She nodded. And meant it.

Minutes later, they exited the passageway. Morning sun streamed down in yellow shafts past fast-moving clouds. They had just reached the trees when the pounding of boots on moist ground rose from around the walls. The three halted and Riana jerked her gaze to Sir Bryant, who exchanged a glance with Sir Dunbar.

“Apparently, Lord Camden is determined to have your wife,” Sir Dunbar drawled.

Bryant nodded and snaked a hand around Riana, pushing her behind him as he turned. The earl appeared from around the castle with a dozen men-at-arms. Fear ripped through Riana. The duchess walked alongside him.

Riana grasped Sir Bryant’s arm. “My lord.” Muscle tensed beneath her fingers.

“Quiet,” he ordered.

The earl halted in front of them, the duchess at his side and his men behind him.

Malice glittered in the older woman’s eyes. “It is just as I said, she is running.”

Anger swept through Riana. She stepped from behind Sir Bryant. He reached for her, but she sidestepped him. “It was not I who fraternized with Lord Alasdair.”

The duchess’ brows shot up. “What do you call spreading your legs for one of the
Disinherited
?”

“I call it being your whore.”

“Riana,” Sir Bryant growled.

She kept her gaze on the duchess. “It was not I who welcomed Lord Alistar into Arundel, then plotted with him to finance Balliol.”

The duchess gave a nasty laugh. “You expect anyone to believe your lies? You wish to better your station in life. What better way than to ingratiate yourself with an earl?”

“I am not satisfied to fuck every animal you send my way, therefore I must be a traitor?” Riana snorted.

The duchess faced Lord Camden. “Her flight proves she has something to hide.”

“You are mistaken,” Sir Bryant said. “Riana is returning with me to Chilgoriam, as agreed.”

The duchess stiffened. “I would not allow an unmarried woman to travel alone with only men-at-arms.”

Riana whirled to face Sir Bryant. “My lord, I must tell—”

“We are betrothed,” he cut in, his gaze locked on the duchess, “at your and the duke’s behest.”

Riana barely stifled a gasp. He knew their marriage was annulled? How? Her mind raced. Because he had caught Glen and Siusan, learned the truth—then came for her. Were Glen and Siusan safe? Gratitude shoved aside fear. Sir Bryant would—had—protected them. Tears sprang to her eyes. He would die for his chivalry.

“Betrothed?” Lord Camden said. “You called her your wife.”

A predatory smile spread across Sir Bryant’s face. “There was little difference, my lord, when your hands were on her.”

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 realized, 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 leveled 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 recognizes 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 hiccupped, then 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.”