Page 213

“You are my commander, Lady Josephine de Carron,” he said hoarsely.

“I have been and always shall be yours. Whatever you ask of me, I shall do without question. But if that should include serving under Colin Dalmellington, know that I will do it under great personal protest. But I will never, ever leave you.”

Josephine could hear that angst in his tone. She could see it in his eyes, and she hurt for him. “It pains me to ask you to serve Dalmellington when you have as much hatred for them as I do,” she said. “Believe me, I derive no pleasure from the thought of sharing Colin’s bed.”

Sully’s jaw ticked at the mere thought. God, he was sickened by it. But looking up into her pale face, it occurred to him how selfish he was acting. Josephine would be the one at the center of the storm. He was only a bystander, yet he was acting like he was to be directly affected.

“Hopefully, it may not come to that,” he said softly. “Mayhap, God will grant us a miracle.”

Her smile faded. “Mayhap,” she said wistfully.

But she wasn’t counting on it.

*

The mood of the Knight’s Haven was, to say the least, somber.

The knights of Torridon, plus Josephine, Andrew, Thane, and Donald had taken the evening meal in the great hall and, upon the conclusion of it, Josephine proceeded to inform the knights of the king’s visit and her suspicions as to the reason.

Once she was finished, the room was deathly still with shock and disbelief.

Josephine had never felt more like crying in her life.

For Torridon to come to this end was sorrowful.

Such a terrible, somber end.

But her men would not surrender so easily.

Soon, the table was abuzz with ideas and solutions.

More than relinquishing Torridon, the thought of their pretty mistress in Colin Dalmellington’s clutches horrified them.

The more the after-dinner wine flowed, the more animated and full of ideas they became.

“My friends!” Severn rose and gestured wildly. “Have we forgotten we have The Red Fury at our disposal? Should we defy the king, not even the royal armies could defeat us!”

“Do not be ridiculous, Severn,” old Burl said sharply. “We have over one thousand men and the king commands all of Scotland. The combined forces would sweep over us like a plague of locust and scatter our bones to the wind.”

The room roared with arguments and counterproposals, with each man talking all at once.

The noise level was deafening and Josephine was overwhelmed and confused by it all.

Even though the situation directly involved her, no one seemed to be talking to her.

They were screaming and yelling at each other.

Even Donald was involved, with his swollen face, arguing for reason as the knights lobbied for action.

Feeling left out and confused, she stood up from her seat. No one noticed as she walked the length of the table, behind the chairs of gesturing men, and exited the room. No one, that is, except Andrew.

He had been sitting passively in his chair since the riot started, initially caught off guard by Lady Josephine’s announcement, but he wasn’t completely surprised.

Torridon was valuable, as was a maiden heiress, so he was inclined to agree with Josephine’s assumption.

Still, his mind began to work on a solution.

A new twist thrown into an already volatile situation.

If he didn’t help her figure a way out of this, then he wouldn’t get his money.

And he might not ever see her again.

Therefore, when she left the room, he followed.

And as he followed her, he realized it wasn’t just the money that disturbed him, but the thought of Josephine with a man he had heard only terrible things about.

He remembered how he felt when he had seen her at the mercy of the gypsies; it was an overwhelming feeling of protection.

But was it money-inspired? He would have liked to believe it was, but he knew better.

The problem, as he saw it, was that he liked Lady Josephine.

He liked her beauty and her spirit. He liked that she wasn’t afraid of him, much less anything else.

She was an extraordinary woman who seemed to have been dealt the short end of the stick over the past few years.

But she was strong of character and intelligence, even if she was a little na?ve.

She was different than every woman he had ever met.

She wasn’t throwing herself at him in a constant barrage of flirtation.

In short, she was a challenge.

He followed Josephine into a portion of the castle’s rambling keep that he had never been to. He looked about him as he traversed the corridor, noting the level of dirt and black mold. It seemed to be a very seldom used wing and, in a keep this size, that probably wasn’t an unusual thing.

Up ahead, he could see Josephine entering the very last room at the end of the hall.

She didn’t bother to close the door and he came up in silence, standing in the doorway.

The room was immaculate, tidy, and clean, and it had a large alcove in one corner and a beautiful Persian rug under the great mahogany bed.

It was a delicate and completely feminine room, and he felt completely out of place in his heavy leathers and sword, as if his mere presence might somehow damage the fragile aura.

Josephine still hadn’t noticed him. She sat in front of a huge dressing table, staring at herself in the polished bronze mirror.

Slowly, Andrew entered the room and came up behind her, looking at her through her reflection.

Josephine didn’t start when she saw him.

She simply looked at him, her face devoid of any emotion, but the gloom in the air was palpable.

“My mother’s name was Lady Afton de Carron,” she said quietly.

“Her father and King Alexander shared the same grandfather. The king arranged the marriage between my mother and father. My father said that he was not too keen on the idea at first. But after he saw my mother, it was love at first sight.”

Andrew’s voice was gentle and deep. “This was your mother’s room?”

“Yes,” she responded. “She died in childbirth with Justine. I was so young when she died and I do not remember her, but I feel her presence very strongly in this room. I talk to her often here about things at Torridon and I know she hears me.” She looked at herself a little more closely in the mirror.

“My father used to tell me that I look just like her.”

“Then she was extremely beautiful,” Andrew said.

Josephine lifted her eyes slowly to him, trying to read his expression.

It took her a moment to realize he was referring to her.

When their eyes met, she felt a spark run through her veins.

Of what, she wasn’t sure, but it frightened her and thrilled her at the same time.

The attraction she was feeling for Andrew was turning into something else, something she had no idea how to deal with or control.

She wasn’t sure she wanted to control it.

But, clearly, it was all very one-sided.

Surely a man like Andrew d’Vant had no need for a na?ve heiress and a broken-down fortress.

Distressed, she stood up and began to wring her hands.

“I am failing them– do not you see that?” she said.

“My parents loved each other. They built Torridon into what you see and raised their children in the hopes that my brother would carry on the family line and maintain the integrity of the castle. But the castle has fallen to me and I’ve done nothing but run Torridon into the ground.

Now I must pay the ultimate price by marrying my enemy to save my home.

I am glad my parents are dead and cannot see my failure. ”

Andrew cocked an eyebrow. “Hold,” he instructed sternly.

“You, Lady Josephine, are the bearer of nothing more than bad circumstances. Had you not been as strong and determined as you are, Torridon would have fallen long ago. You are to be commended for holding a fortress of this size against a formidable enemy, and I am proud to have been commissioned to serve you.”

“There will be no battle,” she said bitterly. “At least no battle that you will be able to assist in. The battle now will be decided in King Alexander’s court, but the war will continue in Colin Dalmellington’s bedroom. God’s Bones, I would sooner wed the devil himself.”

With that, she wandered over to the massive bed and sat heavily.

Slowly, Andrew went over and sat down beside her.

He truly felt her despair, but he knew that her self-confessed failure was not her fault.

From what he’d seen, she was anything but a failure.

He just wished that she would realize it as well.

But he was coming to see a problem. He’d only been at Torridon for a couple of days but, in that short time, he was feeling a pull to this place and its lovely mistress.

He’d already come up with a plan as a result of the speech she’d given to her men, but it was a plan borne of haste and desperation.

He wasn’t even sure if he wanted to suggest it because it would mean great sacrifices for both him and Josephine.

All the while, as he was thinking of his plan, he kept questioning himself as to why he should even involve himself in any of this.

It wasn’t his castle!

Andrew knew he should remain a bystander. The first rule in Scotland was not to involve oneself in clan wars, and that was exactly what this was. He would be smart to simply forfeit the contract and leave. There was no shortage of work for his army, so why was he staying?

God help him, he knew why.

Josephine.

As he sat there and deliberated over his involvement in all of this, and the plan he was afraid to mention, Josephine abruptly stood up from the bed and faced him.