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“I apologize for bringing you and your army here,” she said. “It would seem that it was a waste of time on your part and a waste of money on mine. I will pay you your five thousand marks and you are free to leave. With the king coming… I fear there is no reason for you to be here.”

Andrew eyed her, hearing the surrender already in her tone. He didn’t like to see such a fiery woman admit defeat.

“Lady Josephine,” he rose slowly on his big legs, with his eyes fixed on hers. “I believe I have an idea that may be a solution to all of this. Would you permit me to suggest it?”

She looked at him a little curiously. “By all means.”

He paused a moment, hardly believing he was about to propose his idea. But he’d come this far.

“The king cannot betroth one who is already married,” he finally said.

The simple solution hit Josephine like a ton of rocks and her eyes widened until they nearly popped from her skull. She took a few steps in Andrew’s direction, not realizing she was moving, for her mind was reeling with realization of his suggestion.

“Of course!” she gasped. “Andrew, you are brilliant! If I marry someone else, the king cannot betroth me to Colin!”

“Indeed, he cannot.”

She was beside herself with glee. “But who can I marry in the next two days?”

Andrew hesitated a split second before opening his mouth again, but he couldn’t get the words out fast enough before she was moving away from him, thinking aloud in her zeal.

“It will have to be someone close by, someone of rank or a noble birth,” she said.

She spun around to Andrew with a sudden look of horror.

“But what of Justine? Even if I am married, King Alexander can still betroth Justine to Colin; therefore, she must be wed, too. Andrew, I must find two husbands!”

He shook his head. “Nay, my lady,” he said. “There is no need to search, for what you seek is within these walls of Torridon.”

She stopped her pacing and her brows knitted together curiously. “Who?”

His gaze upon her was intense. Slowly, like a predator stalking its prey, he went to her.

For a moment, he simply stood there, gazing down at her, hardly believing what he was about to say but, in the same breath, nothing had ever seemed so right.

Josephine de Carron was the only woman who had ever caught his attention in such a way that he could hardly go a minute without thinking about her.

She had may fine qualities, as he had seen, and she was exquisitely beautiful.

Perhaps they were shallow reasons but, to him, they were reasons enough.

He couldn’t stand the thought of her married to another.

With great deliberation, he took a knee before her.

“My father was the Earl of Annan and Blackbank, a title inherited by my older brother,” he said.

“When I said I born north of Haldane, I neglected to tell you that my family’s earldom is from Gretna Green to the east all the way to Dumfries.

The heir apparent to the earldom is Viscount Brydekirk, a title which I technically hold unless my brother has a son I am unaware of.

We are descended from the ancient kings of Cornwall on my father’s side and Kenneth MacAlpin on my mother’s.

I have wealth to match your own, and an army of men to protect your holding.

I will offer myself to you in a marriage of convenience, if you will accept me. ”

Josephine was stunned. She hadn’t seen his offer coming and the more she thought on it, the more astonished she became. The Red Fury was offering for her hand to spare her the king’s betrothal to Colin?

She could hardly believe it.

“What… but what of Justine?” It was all she could think of to ask.

In truth, Andrew had been holding his breath, waiting for her reply. At least she hadn’t refused him outright. Much to his surprise, she actually seemed to be considering it.

“Justine can marry Sully,” he said. “Surely he must come from a good family, and it is not so important that the second daughter marry well. I suspect that he is already as good as a member of the family and marriage will make him permanently so.”

Josephine was beginning to see his plan clearly. It was simple and seemingly foolproof. But as her astonishment began to fade, several questions began to form.

“How will I explain to the king that I married secretly and quickly?” she asked. “And Justine, too? He will become suspicious.”

Andrew shook his head. “We will explain to the king that it was necessary to marry quickly, for you are with child,” he said.

“As for Justine, she and Sully were betrothed by your father before he died because they were deeply in love. It was kept secret because your father wished to marry you off first.”

He seemed to have all of the answers. Josephine put her folded hands to her lips, pondering his plan and all of the angles of it that she could see.

It could work. Better still, she liked Andrew.

She was deeply attracted to him. Even a marriage of convenience to a man she found attractive would be better than spending the rest of her life in a hate-filled marriage with an enemy.

Furthermore, Torridon would be safe because no man in his right mind, not even Colin Dalmellington, would attack property belonging to The Red Fury.

God, could this truly work?

But there was Justine; the woman would have to get used to the idea of marrying Sully.

And Sully! Poor Sully would have to get used to the idea of being saddled with Justine the rest of his life.

She felt a genuine twinge of pity for him, her very best friend, but it couldn’t be helped.

He would make a fine husband for Justine.

Perhaps Justine would even grow up with his guidance.

Josephine’s thoughts turned back to Andrew. He was still kneeling chivalrously before her, his eyes searching her face. It seemed to her that he was looking for her answer in all of this. She gave him a weak smile.

“It would seem, Andrew, that a wife could come along with the five thousand marks,” she said quietly. “But why would you do this on my behalf? We hardly know one another. There is nothing at stake between us.”

Andrew had to admit, he was relieved. He’d never asked for a woman’s hand before and was hoping his first attempt wouldn’t end in failure. Thankful that Josephine saw his reasoning, he stood up, a twinkle in his eye as he looked at her.

“Nay,” he said. “There is nothing at stake between us. But as I see it, you are in need of a husband to save your castle, and I believe it would be a mutually beneficial arrangement. Besides, I am sure that taking a wife would please my mother, wherever she may be.”

“But I thought you believed your mother to be dead?”

As soon as Josephine said those words, she was sorry.

Andrew’s smile disappeared and he stiffened.

His first impulse was to throw a curt answer back at her, but he forced himself to calm and realized that she had not asked out of malice.

Moreover, he was the one who had brought the woman up.

If he was to marry this woman, it would only be fair that she know something of his past.

With that in mind, he forced himself to calm. He didn’t like to speak of his past; it was a forbidden subject to those who knew him. Therefore, to speak on it was both awkward and painful.

“’Tis true, I do believe that,” he said quietly. “I… I suppose it is only fair that you know something of my past, of where I come from. But I warn you, it is not an easy tale.”

That was a clue to Josephine as to why he’d become brusque with her earlier in the day when the subject of his mother came up. Patiently, she nodded.

“I hold no judgement,” she said. “If you wish to tell me, I shall listen.”

With a sigh, Andrew sat down on the bed again, next to her.

He was silent a moment as he gathered his thoughts.

“When my father died, my brother Alphonse inherited everything,” he said.

“Alphonse is a dim-witted, greedy bastard, and he ordered my death before my father was even cold in his grave. In fear of my life, I fled my home and joined up with a band of mercenaries. I was just a lad at the time, not yet a man. Even so, I was forced to grow up quickly. A mercenary named Trey took me under his wing and I learned well. I learned well enough that I now have the largest and most powerful mercenary army in all of England and Scotland. But I always swore that I would return someday to my brother’s home of Haldane Castle, seat of the Earl of Annan and Blackbank; someday when I could stand and meet my brother face-to-face, and call him to answer for all of his misdeeds. ”

It was quite a story and Josephine was naturally heartbroken for him. She could hear the distress in his voice. He was letting her to see a glimpse of the man beyond The Red Fury persona, to the beating heart of the man beneath, and that touched her.

“I am so sorry to hear that,” she said sincerely. “But what of your mother? Did he force her to flee, too?”

He shook his head. “The same day he ordered my banishment, he locked my mother away when she tried to protect me,” he said. “That was almost nineteen years ago. I suspect she is no longer alive, so any mention of her for me is… painful.”

Josephine felt sorry for the man. Instinctively, she put her soft hand on his well-muscled shoulder, trying to give him some comfort.

Although the touch was as light as a child’s, Andrew felt it as though it were reaching through to his soul.

He looked up at her, with his defenses down and all of the self-assuredness gone from his eyes.

To Josephine, he looked as vulnerable as a child.

“Why haven’t you gone after her?” she pressed gently. “With all of your money and manpower, surely you have enough strength to go after her and find out if she is still alive?”

He lowered his gaze and shook his head. “My brother commands an earldom and all who reside within it,” he said. “That’s thousands of men, Josephine. I am not nearly powerful enough. Not yet.”

“But you are The Red Fury,” she said, as she gripped his shoulder. “You are the most feared man in Scotland and England; you have said so yourself. Surely your brother will concede rather than fight you? One mercenary is worth ten regular men.”

He smiled at her encouragement. He was deeply touched by it, too.

But she was too close, too young, and too na?ve.

His rough, callused hand reached up and gently touched her cheek.

It was baby-soft and as rosy as a petal.

The issue at hand suddenly faded as he found himself consumed by the warmth radiating from her.

The effect on Josephine was equally as jolting.

His gentle touch sent shivers bolting through her body and she found herself pleased at the prospect of getting to know him better, and of marrying him.

If the man could make her feel like this at a mere touch, she was willing to spend a lifetime seeking his magic touch.

Magic, indeed.

“I am sorry about your mother, Andrew,” she said softly, dropping her hand from his shoulder. “And I appreciate both your candor and your generous offer. Are you sure this is what you wish to do?”

“I have no reservation.”

“Then I accept your offer. I will marry you.”

And with that, he was a man betrothed. There was some excitement in that thought, the thrill of an unexpected future with a woman he was very much attracted to.

“We shall wed as soon as you are ready, mayhap sooner rather than later if the king’s visit is imminent,” he said, realizing he sounded rather happy about the whole thing. “And, might I suggest we make it a double ceremony?”

Josephine nodded. “Absolutely,” she agreed rising to her feet. “Now, I must inform Justine and Sully. And I fear I must prepare myself for a good argument from them both.”

Andrew grinned, rising from the bed beside her, towering over her. When they stood next to one another, she came to his chest. “Allow me to accompany you to deliver the bad news, my lady,” he said, as he offered her his arm. “They might be less apt to argue with my menacing presence.”

Josephine returned his smile. “You are quite menacing, aren’t you?” she said as she accepted his arm. “But, nay. The news must come from me. And, please… now that we are betrothed, you will call me Josephine.”

Andrew felt as if he’d been waiting for that invitation since the day he’d met her. “It would be my pleasure,” he said genuinely. “You will address me as Andrew. Call me what you wish; I will answer.”

It was a sweetly giddy moment and Josephine found herself fighting off a grin. She’d never been giddy in her life, but Andrew certainly made her feel silly and foolish enough.

She liked it.

They walked out into the corridor, heading for the great hall in warm silence, traversing halls with wide, arched ceilings, halls that generations had tread before them.

There were grooves in the stone floors from the traffic.

Josephine’s thoughts were still quite giddy and she found herself watching her feet as they moved, feeling his big arm warm and firm in her palm.

“What’s your full Christian name, Andrew?” she asked, purely to make conversation.

“Andrew Albert Deinwald d’Vant,” he said. “And yours?”

“Josephine Alys de Carron,” she said. Then, she grinned.

“When I was very small, however, I did not want to be called by my name. I insisted that everyone call me Joey. I suppose I wanted to be a boy at that time in my life. Even until his death, my father would call me Joey. Justine calls me that, too, on occasion, when she is not annoyed with me.”

“Joey,” Andrew repeated, a glimmer of a smile on his lips. “I like that.”

She chuckled and looked away. “It is a boy’s name.”

He was grinning at her even though she couldn’t see him. “Not in this case,” he said, “for you are most definitely not a boy. It is rather sweet. May I call you Joey, then?”

She shrugged, both embarrassed and flattered. “Call me what you wish; I will answer.”

He heard his own words repeated back to him, something that made him grin all the more.

“Joey it is,” he murmured.