The Commander's Desire (17 page)

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Authors: Jennette Green

Tags: #Romance, #historical romance, #historical, #arranged marriage, #romance historical, #scotland, #revenge, #middle ages, #medieval romance, #princesses, #jennette green, #love stories

BOOK: The Commander's Desire
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She slipped outside and began her morning
constitutional, walking around the castle courtyard. Her path just
happened to cross the armory door with each turn about the
grounds.

Elwytha walked sprightly, as if she hadn’t a
care in the world, and cast disarming smiles on all who crossed her
path. Best for them to get used to her presence. They would come to
accept it—even expect it. When it came time to do her dirty deed,
no one would notice her at all. Her smiles were to garner goodwill.
Her father had always told her that she’d catch more flies with
honey than vinegar.

The washer women smiled this time as she
passed. Pleased, Elwytha claimed this as a small victory.

She approached the armory again and slid a
cunning glance out of the corner of her eye. The guard looked
sleepy. Perhaps up too late last night reveling? A small smile
curled her lips.

A large hand caught her wrist, stopping her.
She glared up at her betrothed.


Kindly unhand me. And where
did you come from? I didn’t see you a minute ago.” Because she’d
been looking to avoid him!

He didn’t release her. His gaze looked keen,
measuring. “Why do you pace before the armory?”


I do not pace before the
armory. I am taking the air. It improves my health.”


Speak truth to me,
Elwytha.” His eyes locked with hers. By her wrist, he held her
close to him. It was impossible to ignore him, or the truth he
demanded from her soul.


You’re paranoid. I have
made no moves upon your armory.”


Verily? You love blades.
Perhaps you want to steal more for your own purposes.”


What purposes?” she
scoffed. “I merely walk, Commander. Surely that’s not a crime.” She
twisted her wrist now, and he freed her. Elwytha stepped back,
glaring. “You promised not to manhandle me.”


You promised no further
treachery.”

Guilt sparked a defensive anger. “You’re a
fine one to talk. You would demand honor from me, when you have
none yourself.”

His face hardened. “You speak of your
brother’s death.”


You misspeak. I speak of
his
murder.

Further anger flared.


I told you I did not kill
him.”


And why should I believe
you? You’re my enemy. Nay. You are the
Commander
of the enemy forces arrayed
against my palace. Why would I believe any word you speak? Perhaps
even now you and the Prince plot treachery against me.” Elwytha
felt quite agitated now, with these plausible theories taking shape
in her mind.

He heaved a great breath. “Elwytha.” He
sounded exasperated. “Look on me.”

She glared, teeth gritted. “I don’t wish to
hear anything you have to say.”


Have I ever dealt
dishonorably with you?” The deep voice was quiet,
patient.

Elwytha frowned on. “Besides badgering me and
bending me to your will, I’m not sure.”

A breath hissed through his teeth. “I have
treated you with the respect and honor you deserve. Will you not
acknowledge that?”

Elwytha thought on the ways he could have
easily dishonored her. He had not. And the other things…the small
kindnesses he had shown her; holding her in the hut, kissing her
when he had regretted treating her harshly, and returning her
dresses as promised. Even now, speaking reasonably when she grasped
at straws for reasons to mistrust him. “Yes, you have,” she
admitted at last, glancing away.


Perhaps you believe I
possess honor after all.”

She glanced up, lips sealed, unwilling to
admit it. How could this enemy Commander have honor? It would turn
her whole world upside down to believe it. And yet… Elwytha
stiffened, instinctively fighting the crack that threatened to form
in her self-protective armor. For her brother and clan, she must
remain clear-headed. She must face facts and discover the
truth.


Have you found proof of
your innocence yet?” she asked, knowing he hadn’t. How could he?
“Perhaps one of your warriors confessed to his murder,” she added
with faint sarcasm. A confession the Commander would have to
coerce, because it would be a lie.


Nay. I spoke to them
yesterday. None killed Thor. No one saw or stole my
blade.”


So what happened to it?
Mayhap it sprouted wings and flew into my brother’s back of its own
accord?”


Nay.” Frustration tightened
his voice.


How could you lose your
sword in the first place?” Elwytha demanded, pressing for the
truth. Perhaps he’d slip and reveal more than he planned. “I know
little about you, Commander, but you’re not careless.”


I am not,” he agreed. “I
lost it during battle. One of your skilled swordsmen wrested it
from my hand. I had to battle and finish him with my
dagger.”

Elwytha flinched at this description of the
death of one of her best warriors. Yet it had been in a battle. If
he had not died, the Commander would have. This thought did not sit
any better within her soul. In fact, she felt a sick horror,
thinking on it.

His next words infiltrated her disturbed
thoughts. “After, when I searched for my sword, I could not find
it.”


Truly,” she said with
disbelief. “Then where did it go? You say your men did not pilfer
it.”


They did not. And the
Prince swears he didn’t order Thor’s assassination.”


That proves nothing,”
Elwytha retorted. “You say this, the Prince says that. Verily, your
men didn’t find your sword because it was never lost. You had it
the whole time.”

He remained calm, but his body stiffened. “I
don’t lie. Ever.”

Again, he insisted upon honor. Elwytha didn’t
know what to believe. “If you speak truth, then where did it go?
Who took it? Who killed my brother?” She challenged him to deny the
evidence. Logically, his guilt was the only reasonable explanation.
He was her brother’s enemy. Who had a greater motivation to kill
Thor, his enemy King, for his Prince?

A multitude of unreadable thoughts flickered
across the Commander’s face. But he did not reveal any of them. “We
continue to investigate.”


Investigate until pigs
fly,” she retorted. “I will believe nothing you say until you
provide proof. Good day.”


Elwytha.” His tone
commanded her to stop. “I searched for you with a
purpose.”

She frowned. “You said you don’t require my
presence until the even. Pray do not torture me with your presence
anon.”


I have said no such
thing.”

Elwytha glared. “You said in the even…”


I’d like to see you wear
one of your fine dresses,” he finished her statement. Annoying,
that, and her glare intensified. “I still require your company
during the day.”

Elwytha crossed her arms, scowling further.
“I have no wish to partake of your presence. I have dresses to
alter.” Inspiration struck. “And our nuptials to plan.”

His eyes narrowed. “You wish to plan our
nuptials?” He sounded disbelieving, as well he might.

In truth, Elwytha wished only to escape his
presence, so she could think.

He asked, “What needs to be done?”

Elwytha smiled inwardly with triumph. What
did a man know of planning a wedding? In his ignorance he would
believe any manner of tripe she chose to feed him. “I need to
choose a dress,” she began.


I prefer the blue. It suits
you, and is the color of your eyes.”

It had been Elwytha’s choice as well.
Graciously, she said, “I agree. I also need to speak to Mary about
the food for the reception afterward.” After the nonexistent
wedding, she reminded to herself. Little did the Commander know the
wedding would never be.

Because she would battle and kill him
first.

A bolt of sickness stabbed her. She looked
quickly away, her breath catching. She swallowed, trying to regain
her thoughts.


Elwytha?” Was that concern
in his uncommonly deep voice? “Are you all right? Have you a
pain?”

She felt further guilt for her duplicity.
Already the treachery rent more and more lies through her soul. She
would not lie about her health, too. “Nay. I am fine.”

He frowned, as if not believing her.

Elwytha said, “I also need to write my
brother and make sure he’ll arrive on the correct day. Monday of
next week?”

Her betrothed continued to regard her with a
faint frown. “Yes.”


Good.” Elwytha forced this
additional lie through her lips. “And I will need to make sure the
priest is available and the chapel readied.” A thought occurred to
her. “Does the palace have a chapel?” She hadn’t seen it yet, in
all of her wanderings.


I will see to the priest
and the chapel.”

She was surprised the Commander would take
this burden upon himself. Although the wedding would not take
place, it did need to be planned. For appearance’s sake it had to
look like it would happen. “Thank you.” She inclined her head. “So
you see, I have much to do.”


Yes. But I wish to ride
with you this morn. You can speak to Mary and alter your dresses in
the afternoon.”

Frustration surged. He would foil her plan to
avoid him. That’s all she needed—more time with him, which would
confuse her still further. Sarcastically, she said, “You wish my
presence so fervently?”


Yes,” he returned
calmly.

Startled by his admission, Elwytha scanned
his features. She saw purpose and determination. Surprise,
surprise.


I wish to spend time with
you, Elwytha. I wish to know you better.”

How could she respond? He spoke so
reasonably. Just one velvet cloaked demand…for her presence. She
bit her lip, trying to quell her instinctive mutiny. She met his
eyes, trying to read his intent. To her surprise, she saw calm
patience…and an unknown something else. A plea…or a demand?

She took a breath. “Very well,” she said,
against her better judgment. “I agree to ride with you in the
mornings, as you require, if you’ll grant me freedom in the
afternoons.”


I cannot promise
that.”

Elwytha’s brows wrenched together. She had
tried to be so reasonable and civil. This was the thanks she
received. “Why?”


Because I may wish your
presence in the afternoon.”


Why,
pray tell?”


I would give you no
promises I cannot keep.”

She scowled. “So I’m to be at your beck and
call day and night?”

His lips twitched. “Not at night. Yet.”

A furious blush heated her face. “Commander!
I will thank you not to refer to such unseemly affairs.” Then she
blushed further, thinking on her poor choice of words. “Nay.”
Verily, he would know no nights with her. With haste, she reminded
herself of this calming fact.

His eyes scanned her features, amusement
evident. “It is why I wish to ride with you now. So we’ll know each
other better before our nuptials.”

Elwytha muttered, “I
don’t
wish
to know
you further!”

To her alarm, his large hand settled on the
small of her back. “Will you come with me now to the stables?”

Her heart pounded. Should she bolt from his
touch like a frightened filly—which unfortunately appealed too
greatly—or endure it, pretending not to notice? Pride dictated the
latter.


Very well,” she said. “But
I require this afternoon free.”


Agreed.” He did not remove
his hand. Instead, his fingers slipped around her waist as they
walked across the grassy courtyard. Prickling awareness warmed her
skin. She gritted her teeth and struggled not to bolt. When they
finally reached the stables, she gladly darted free, eager to
exchange the Commander’s company for Sir Duke’s.

 

* * * * *

 

The Commander saw the grit to Elwytha’s
teeth. So, his plans to gentle her to his touch were not going so
well. Patience, he warned himself, now readying the black stallion
for his ride. She still distrusted him.

Truthfully, he didn’t trust her fully,
either. What were her plans? Why had she been sent to the palace
bearing peace in her body from her brother? Richard wished no
peace, the Commander knew it in his gut. The King felt humiliation
for his recent defeats…for all of his defeats since Thor had died.
He wished revenge.

Could Elwytha be a tool in his plan for
vengeance? She had arrived carrying knives. But she hadn’t tried to
kill him when she’d had the chance. Instead, she had hidden his
dagger beneath his mattress. And she insisted on planning the
wedding she professed to despise.

The Commander understood none of it. But he
liked Elwytha. In truth, more every day. He hoped…and prayed…for no
treachery on her part. He wished a true marriage with her, even
now, after all their fights and the reasons to give up. He saw in
her the heart of a warrior, and the tender heart of a woman, too.
Elwytha intrigued him like no other. She challenged him. He liked
that.

The Commander watched her swing up on Sir
Duke. Did treachery lurk in her heart? He wanted to trust her, but
sensed she hid something from him, even now. Something far deeper;
a truth only wit and cunning would draw out. He would pursue her
secret. He would also seek to clear his name of Thor’s murder.

He would fight for victory in the battle for
her heart.

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