THE WARLORD (4 page)

Tess struggled to recover her composure under the baron's icy glare. It was a near impossible task, since she'd been caught so completely off guard. But who wouldn't be startled to see an image from their dreams come to life? It was too eerie. Surely that was the reason her stomach was acting queerly and she suddenly felt light-headed.

Don't be a
goose,
she scolded herself, shaking her head to brush away the foolish notion. So she'd seen the image of a dark-haired man while she slept, a man whose face haunted her dreams so completely that she thought she knew him. So she'd had the same dream every night for the past week.
Coincidence.
Aye, pure and simple coincidence.

She risked another glance at the baron's face, just to assure herself on the matter. Chilling, ruthless power emanated from the man who stood before her, a man who could kill without emotion or regret. There wasn't a trace of warmth in the cold black eyes that
glared
down at her, nor the barest hint of gentleness in that clenched jaw. Their eyes met again and this time she didn't miss the meaning behind his fierce expression. Why, he was trying to intimidate her!

He was succeeding.

She felt a shiver run down her spine and goose bumps prick her arms. She was snared by those eyes as surely as any trapped prey. They held her captive, the power she sensed there absolute, capable of forcing anyone to submit to his will. Surprisingly, the emotions swirling through her were the complete opposite of the fear or horror she should be experiencing. It was the strangest thing, but she had an indescribable urge to stand closer to the warlord.
To touch him.
To—

"Do you intend to answer, Lady Remmington?" Baron Montague's voice was laced with sarcasm. "Or shall I repeat the question? You do appear confused."

Tess bristled, her temper flaring to life.
" 'Tis
rude to glare at a gentle lady so evilly."

She turned to Father Olwen, missing the look of disbelief on Kenric's face. "Perhaps you can help these men see reason, Father. I would like to explain the situation,
then
I am sure you will see the wisdom of my decision and advise everyone accordingly."

"I will do my best," Father Olwen said uncertainly. "You should know that King Edward informed me of the reason for this marriage, Lady Remmington."

Tess nodded, then drew her braid over one shoulder and began to twist the ends.

"Tess…" Ian objected, her name long and drawn out, sounding almost like the hiss of a snake.
Or a warning.

"I do not wish to marry." Tess saw Ian step forward and she hurried to give the priest her reasons. "My wish is to become a nun. As is customary, my estates can be divided when I take the vows. It will be as though I have died."

"You are hardly dead, Lady."

"Remmington would revert to King Edward," Tess continued, ignoring the baron's interruption. She tried not to think about the deepness of his voice, how it effortlessly filled the room, so penetrating, she could almost feel the sound vibrate through her body.
Dear God, what is happen' ing to me
?
she
wondered in a panic, struggling to hold on to her argument. "If I enter a convent, Remmington will stay in English hands without bloodshed. My stepfather and King Alexander cannot object because the religious laws are the same in both countries and they would not dare defy the church in such a matter. If I marry anyone, there will be a war."

She ended her small speech by bowing her head, unable to look Father Olwen in the eye another moment. She'd lied outright to a priest! "You do see the wisdom of my plan, Father Olwen?"

The priest pursed his lips, studying the floor as he rocked back and forth on his heels. Tess finally noticed the tattered ends of her braid and smoothed the frayed tassel before letting it drop to her side. She was sure Uncle Ian knew of the lie. He could always see through her fibs.
But what of Baron Montague?
Did he know the truth as well? Lord help her, she had the most insane urge to marry this savage warlord!

"What say you to the lady's story?" the priest asked Kenric.

" 'Tis
the truth as I know it," he agreed amiably.
"Except for one part."

Tess felt her heart stop beating. She waited breathlessly for the baron to expose her deceit.

"There will be a war no matter what she does with her life."

She closed her eyes and sighed in relief. Her lie was safe from Baron Montague. She didn't hear him move silently across the room, didn't know he was anywhere near until his warm fingertips lifted her chin. Her eyes flew open in surprise. He looked deep into her eyes, his expression unreadable. Tess was sure time stood still as they stared at each other, nothing spoken, yet a certain message passing between them in that silent exchange.
A warning, yes, but perhaps something more.

"She'll marry me," he said arrogantly, his eyes never leaving hers. He lifted his hand and brushed his thumb across her lower lip, sending another strange shiver down her spine. "Surely you suspected this in the woods, Lady Remmington."

He didn't give her a chance to answer. His hand dropped abruptly to his side, as if he couldn't bear to touch her another moment.

"Do not be difficult, Lady. I am not a man known for his patience with the wiles of women."

Tess frowned over his arrogance but kept silent, not about to explain that she'd thought them mercenaries, hired swords to see her safely to a nunnery. He would surely think her a fool.

"Best we get on with this," Kenric told the priest. He took hold of Tess's hand, dragging her toward the altar. "We have wasted enough time."

That was all Tess needed to spur her into action. She tried to pull her hand away from the baron's, and when that didn't work, she turned to face him.

"I have yet to hear Father Olwen's advice." She took the priest's hand with her free one, her voice pleading. "These are men of war, Father. They think only of fighting. Surely you can see the Tightness of my plan and give me sanctuary."

Tess nearly winced from the baron's crushing grip on her fingers but she kept her eyes on the priest, heartened that Father Olwen seemed to consider her words. The priest was her only hope.

"The church is for those with a true calling," Father Olwen said finally. "You must obey the wishes of your king."

"But—" Tess made a strange squeaking sound when Kenric squeezed her hand so hard she thought surely the bones would break.

"The hour grows late," Kenric said in a curt tone. "Your uncle needs to be well on his way when your absence is discovered."

"This is happening so quickly!" Tess looked to her uncle for support, but Ian pushed his hands forward, suggesting she should get on with the business. She bowed her head and softly whispered her misgivings. "I have so little time to think over this new plan."

"Best you think quickly, or your stepfather will be here to witness the ceremony." Kenric sighed impatiently. "You've a choice, Lady. Either me, or MacLeith."

She seriously considered MacLeith, but only for a moment. The Butcher of Wales was hardly the best choice to her way of thinking, but she was free of her stepfather for the first time in five years and in no hurry to relinquish her freedom.
But marriage?
To this man?
The price of her freedom was too high. Yet, perhaps if she were clever enough, she could escape the baron just as she'd escaped MacLeith. If Tess could somehow reach King Edward and explain her convent plan, he would see the wisdom of her actions and annul this hasty marriage.

Her gaze traveled slowly from the tips of Baron Montague's boots to the powerful arms, again crossed over his chest. She almost smiled at the irony of the situation. Why, Baron Montague was the only man in
England whose reputation for wickedness surpassed MacLeith's. No matter how long this marriage lasted, she'd give almost anything to be in the hall when Dunmore MacLeith learned she'd wed the Butcher of Wales.

"I am ready, milord."

Barely an hour passed before the marriage papers were signed and the small group was shown to their horses. The ceremony was a blur to Tess, dazed as she was. Her uncle's words of good wishes were vague to her ears as he took her arm at the end of the ceremony and led her from the chapel.

"Do your duty," Ian told his niece gruffly. They stood outside the abbey gates where he engulfed the girl in a tight hug. "Make your family proud, lass."

"I will." Tess lowered her gaze guiltily. It was possible that her plan would make her family proud, she reasoned. Much as she'd like, she knew she couldn't go to
Scotland with her uncle.
Scotland's King Alexander was Dunmore MacLeith's ally and would only order Uncle Ian to return her to her stepfather. She couldn't allow her uncle to fall into ill favor with his king. She hugged her uncle fiercely, wondering what her reception would be if she ever saw him again. "God keep you safe."

"Try not to worry," he said lightly, his troubled expression belying his words. "You'll frown so much that the Montagues will think you related to bears."

Tess tried to give him an encouraging smile but failed. She knew her time was running out when Uncle Ian gave her hand a quick, reassuring squeeze. Baron Montague nudged his horse forward, then leaned down and lifted her effortlessly into his lap.

'Twas odd, being held so close to the stranger who was her husband.
Her head barely reached his shoulders and his arms easily circled her to hold the reins. She was pressed against his hard body from the top of her head to her heels and his warmth surrounded her on every side. She decided she rather enjoyed the feeling of being protected by so much power. Scowling over her fanciful thoughts, she reminded herself that his power might be used against her someday.

"I know you will treat her well, Baron," Ian called over his shoulder. There was a clear note of warning in his voice.

"I'll keep her safe," the baron replied arrogantly, as if insulted by the implication that he wouldn't.

Safe.
That was the word Tess was searching for. She hadn't felt safe in years. Wasn't it odd that the man known throughout
England for his cruelty should provide the feeling so effortlessly? Her body relaxed a little, and she leaned her head back against the baron's broad shoulders.

Kenric raised one hand in farewell, then wheeled his horse around, anxious to get closer to his fortress. The sky was beginning to turn pink on the horizon, and he knew Tess would be discovered missing within the hour. Fortunately, he didn't have to cross Remmington land as Ian must. The Scot would be damned lucky to make the ride across the border to his own fortress without coming across one of MacLeith's patrols. There was a hard two-day ride ahead of them, but they would reach his first patrol in a few hours. He'd stationed over two hundred men farther ahead at intervals along the road, knowing they were less likely to be set upon early in their flight. He wanted his men and their horses fresh and rested if they needed to face MacLeith in the open. He took a moment to wrap the edges of his cloak around his wife,
then
spurred the stallion forward.

With the plan well under way, he had no need to worry about their journey. Kenric's thoughts turned instead to his new bride and what a pleasant surprise she'd turned out to be. A moment later, he felt her head nod against his chest as she drifted off to sleep. Every soft curve seemed to melt against his hard frame, bringing an unexpectedly heated reaction from his loins. He was amazed again at how easily the girl could inflame him. He couldn't keep his groan contained when she shifted her hips and snuggled closer to his warmth. She was arousing him enough to make the ride painful. He pulled the horse back to a walk and took several deep, cleansing breaths in an effort to ease his discomfort.

"Is something amiss?" Fitz Alan questioned, pulling up to his side.

"Nay," Kenric answered, harsher than intended.

"Are we there?" Tess asked sleepily.

"The horses need to walk for a while," Kenric lied in a clipped voice. "Go back to sleep."

Kenric tightened his grip on Tess and pulled her back against his chest, wanting nothing more than to lead her into the deep woods and ease the incredible lust she stirred in him. The reasonable side of his mind said the idea was foolish. The sun was well in evidence and they could encounter MacLeith's men at any time. Besides which, it was too damned cold. Still, the thought was distracting.

"I did not think I would fall asleep so easily." She stretched and wiggled around until Kenric placed a firm hand on her hip to stop the maddening action. "You are amazingly warm, milord."

Tess couldn't see Kenric's grimace until she turned slightly in the saddle.

"Would now be a poor time to ask a question?" She raised her eyebrows hopefully, but the baron's forbidding expression didn't change. Nor did he answer. Rudeness seemed to be his most dominant trait. Unable to meet his intimidating gaze a moment longer, she casually turned her attention to the road, ignoring his silence. "I was wondering what name I should call you by."

"I am your lord and master, Lady. You may address me as 'milord,' or 'Baron,' or… '
husband
.'"

The man's arrogance left Tess speechless. She considered thanking him for allowing her to speak at all, but thought better of the idea. She would behave civilly for the duration of this farce, even if he did not. "What I meant to ask was your given name,
husband. I
know your titles, Baron Montague, but I do not know your Christian name."

He had the audacity to smile at her. Tess quickly dropped her gaze back to the
road,
half afraid she would betray her anger and smile back.

"My name is Kenric."

Though her hood was between them, Tess could almost feel his lips against her ear and his breath against her cheek. She marveled at the way his deep voice seemed to steal her breath away.

"You may call me by such whenever we are alone,
wife
."

After a moment of silence, he pulled her hood aside.

"You find some humor in my name?"

"Hm?" she inquired absently.

"Why are you smiling?"

"Your voice," Tess answered dreamily. "I can feel it.
Right here."
She placed her palm between her breasts, a soft laugh in her voice. "It tickles."

Kenric stared at her small hand until his body told him it was time to breathe again and he had to look away. He closed his eyes and a thousand images flashed before them. Most contained his very naked wife. He snapped his eyes open and scowled, disgusted with himself and his lack of control. This was too much. The girl was either an expert in seduction or the sweetest innocent alive. But he was determined to be safely inside
Montague
Castle
before finding out the truth of her charms.

"You appear to enjoy my company well enough for a woman who wanted to be a nun." The guilty look on his wife's face reminded him of her reluctance at the altar. That helped cool his blood.

"I have a confession to make," she said quietly, sounding remorseful. "I have thought long on this matter and feel it best to inform you of my sin."

That
announcement caught Kenric off guard. He could almost feel the blood in his veins turn to ice.
She's had a lover
, he thought grimly. How thoughtful of her to unburden her pious little soul before he discovered the truth for himself. His face became hard, his expression meant to prepare her for the rage that would follow. If she thought he would find this confession noble, she was wrong. Though he was bound to keep her even if she'd had a score of lovers, he didn't have to like it. He reined in the horse and waved Fitz Alan ahead, remaining silent until he was sure their conversation would be private.

"I'm all ears," he drawled sarcastically.

"I told a lie to the priest." She spoke so softly that Kenric had to lean forward to hear. He frowned but waited for her to continue. "I told him I did not want to marry."

"Tell me the rest of it, Tess." Kenric's voice was quiet but there was no missing the fury lurking there.

" 'Tis
rare that I tell a lie, milord, and never before to a priest," she hurried to explain. "I would not blame you if you think me wicked, but I did so want this to end without bloodshed."

"Well?" he growled.

"Well, when we met in the chapel I was not displeased with the idea of marrying you, but I had to try to avert this war and the convent plan seemed like such a good one. Then again, since I was asking to become a nun, I couldn't very well admit to Father Olwen that I was taken with you right from the start and the idea of being your wife was quite appealing. Nuns do not have such earthy thoughts. Oh… I mean… I really didn't have much time to think about being your wife, but I was quite intrigued with the notion.
Even though I shouldn't have thought about being a wife at all, not if I truly was of a mind to become a nun.
Oh, Lord!" Tess felt her cheeks flame
red,
surprised at everything that had somehow fallen out of her mouth. Curse and rot her tongue! Why not just openly admit that she lusted after the man? Her poor husband looked stunned. He was certainly wondering what kind of woman he'd married. Tess looked away. Gaining his trust by admitting the lie was the stupidest idea she'd ever imagined.

"Look at me, Tess," he demanded sternly. She lifted her gaze, her eyes filled with
embarrassed
tears. He cupped her cheek with one hand and brushed his thumb across the creamy surface. "You are telling me the truth now?"

"Aye," she admitted. Her gaze dropped to his mouth, unable to look him in the eye another moment.
"Though I did not intend to tell quite so much."

The smile she saw curve his mouth astonished Tess. She leaned back to see the rest of his face and watched in amazement as his eyes changed from a dark, steely color to a soft shade of gray.

It
was
him, she realized in stunned disbelief. Kenric of Montague was the man she saw in her dreams! The image that had suddenly come to life before her eyes stirred other realizations. Ian had once said her grandmother had the ability to catch small glimpses of the future, but Tess never knew she too possessed the strange skill until this instant.

She needed to think more on such an important revelation, but at the moment she couldn't seem to think beyond her husband's captivating smile. She lifted one hand to his cheek, fascinated by the rough growth that said he'd been a day without shaving. Kenric's smile disappeared the moment her hand touched his face.

"Your eyes are gray," she said softly, their gazes meeting.

"I'm glad you told me."

"You didn't know your eyes were gray?" she asked, her hand falling to his shoulder.

It took Kenric a moment to get his own thoughts gathered enough to follow the conversation. Those eyes of hers were enough to bewitch a saint. They actually changed color with her mood.
Sapphires one moment, amethysts the next.

"I knew," he replied. He lifted Tess's hand and placed a kiss in the palm, smiling over the shiver he felt go through her. "I'm glad you told me how you felt when we first met
. 'Tis no sin to appreciate your king's choice."

She blushed and tried to turn away again, but Kenric easily caught her chin, curious to see her reaction in the color of her eyes. Deep, dark blue, he mused, his lips curving into a smile.

"Are you angry that I lied to Father Olwen?" she asked hesitantly.

"Nay, Tess." Kenric couldn't resist placing a light kiss on her forehead. He immediately liked the feel of her beneath his lips, but forced himself to pull away. Her shy confession would be rewarded, settling the idea of taking her into the woods once and for all.

"The lie was a sin, but told for noble reasons," he conceded, his manner once again arrogant, his expression closed. "Women cannot always be held accountable for their actions."

Tess bit her lip, willing the sharp words to stay in her mouth. This was not the time to start an argument.
Especially when she wasn't exactly armed with overwhelming proof to argue his opinion of women.
Instead she nodded stiffly and turned her back to him, hoping the wretched man would be sensible enough to realize why she was angry. There were a hundred questions she wanted to ask him, to find out anything she could to make her escape easier. But the man needed a good dose of silence to think over his rude remark.

Had she actually imagined Baron Montague a fit man to judge her sin?
Accountable, indeed.
Any kind ideas she'd harbored about him were pushed aside. He thought her inferior, a child who could not be punished for failing to recognize the difference between right and wrong. Hah! That was a good one. As if the Butcher of Wales could distinguish between the two.

Kenric smiled over the top of his wife's head, satisfied by the stiff set of her shoulders that said he'd hit his mark. He spurred the horse forward, more anxious than he'd ever been to reach
Montague
Castle
.

The first sign of trouble came less than an hour later. A twelve-man patrol rode straight toward them, each soldier wearing a MacLeith plaid.