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K ing Alexander of Scotland arrived with little fanfare, surprising for a monarch who had been on the throne for many years.

His arrival had been understated for the most part, and he arrived with a small contingent of courtiers and warriors, escorted into Torridon by a man who had identified himself as Andrew d’Vant.

When that name meant nothing to the king, Andrew stated the nickname he was known by– The Red Fury– and suddenly, the king was quite interested in him.

He knew that name.

As she stood on the steps of Torridon dressed in her fine gown, Josephine fervently hoped that Justine was being cooperative in relinquishing her virginity to her new husband.

There was no room for botched plans this night, as everything had to work on schedule or all would be lost. She could only pray the king didn’t realize that everything that had taken place, so quickly, was in an effort to thwart his plans.

As the king and his entourage entered the inner bailey of Torridon, Andrew rode majestically next to the king and Josephine found she couldn’t take her eyes from him.

He looked more magnificent than she had remembered, and her stomach fluttered in excitement at the mere sight.

Odd how a man she’d fought with on the day of their introduction had now become much more to her, very swiftly.

One would have thought it was a foolish happening had it not felt so right.

And it did feel right.

Beneath the black night and dozens of torches, the inner bailey was jammed with the king’s guard, wagons, and more.

Josephine was a little curious as to how she was going to house all of the people in the king’s entourage, because Justine usually handled that.

But Justine was understandably occupied, so the duty fell to her.

She watched as the king dismounted his horse a bit wearily; a tall man, with a crowning glory of wavy red hair, his face was thin but not unattractive.

He had a bit of an overbite. But he bore absolutely no resemblance to the distant cousin he was visiting.

As the king approached the keep, he looked about with interest, pointing to the walls, the keep itself, and muttering to the men surrounding him. As he came to the steps leading to the keep, Josephine was waiting. She curtsied deeply.

“My lord,” she said politely. “Welcome to Torridon.”

The king looked somewhat amused, handing his fine gauntlets to a nearby attendant. “And which de Carron are you?”

His speech was rather continental, not Scottish as one would expect. Having been educated in England in his youth, he didn’t have the heavy burr. Josephine answered his question.

“I am Josephine, my lord.”

That changed Alexander’s entire demeanor. “Josephine,” he repeated, devouring her with his eyes. “The heiress. You do my grandfather, and your great-grandfather, a great tribute. It has been a long time since I saw you last and I am pleased.”

As Josephine nodded demurely, Alexander took his eyes from her long enough to look Torridon over, making note of the obvious repairs that were going on. He was used to staying in grander castles, but he knew why Torridon looked as it did. In fact, that was the reason for his visit.

“Lady Josephine,” he said finally. “You will escort me inside this monstrous fortress.”

“Of course, my lord,” she said, turning to go back up the steps.

As Josephine led the way, Andrew watched the king and his men as they followed her delicious backside into the depths of the castle.

He had to admit that he was feeling more than just a twinge of jealousy at the way the king gazed at Josephine.

The attention was more than just “family”.

And the king did it knowing full well Andrew was betrothed to Josephine.

Andrew had introduced himself as such when he’d ridden out to meet the king, so there was no mistake.

Andrew wanted to ensure that the king knew right away what Andrew’s role was in all of this.

Obviously, the king either didn’t care or he had a false sense of security in the way he was looking at Josephine.

Perhaps, he thought he was immune to the wrath of The Red Fury, but he wasn’t.

And he was going to feel it if he didn’t keep his attentions in check.

Andrew wasn’t particularly reverent of Scottish kings, being English by birth.

Thane interrupted his unhappy thoughts. “My lord,” he said, catching his attention. “The men are bedded. I have ordered the escort party to also bed for the night, and I shall be joining them. Will you be coming?”

Andrew’s eyes were still on the entourage entering the door. “Nay,” he said slowly. “I shall be joining my betrothed and her king in the dining hall.”

Thane looked at the expression on Andrew’s face as the man scrutinized the king. He’d known Andrew for several years and had never seen him appear so… suspicious. Or was it jealousy? He thought it was somewhat disturbing. Remarkable, but disturbing.

“You do not trust him?” he finally asked. “The king, I mean.”

Andrew gave him a look that needed no explanation. That was exactly what he was feeling. Soon enough, he headed into the castle, following the king and his men.

Thane watched Andrew go, shaking his head as he turned for the gatehouse. Poor lout, he thought . He has no idea he’s already gone in love with her. But that meant that there could very well be trouble.

Men in love were volatile creatures, indeed.

*

Halfway through the meal, Justine and Sully appeared.

Seated across the table from the king, so he could get a good look at her, Josephine was the first one to see the couple enter the hall.

Josephine leapt to her feet, uttering an apology.

She left the table to go to her sister, who she assumed must be traumatized by having been bedded by a man for the first time.

She was fully expecting hysterics. But Justine smiled prettily at Josephine, who looked at her with open astonishment.

She had never seen Justine look prettier or…

happier . She definitely looked happier.

But Justine’s smile was a ruse; as she reached her sister, she threw herself forward into Josephine’s arms and began to weep.

Josephine clutched her sister, looking at Sully accusingly. “What have you done to her?” she demanded.

Sully looked at her, rather drolly. “Nothing except what a husband usually does to his wife.”

Josephine eyed him dubiously as she continued to hold her sister. Then, she looked back to Justine. “Darling, the king is here,” she said gently. “You must greet him.”

“It hurt,” Justine whispered into her sister’s shoulder.

Josephine’s eyes flew to Sully. “You hurt her?”

Sully looked surprised and outraged at the same time. “It was not intentional, I swear it.”

Justine sobbed again. “He… he would not stop when I asked him to.”

That clinched it for Josephine. She flew into a rage, running at Sully and pounding him with her small fists.

She shrieked and cursed like a soldier while he mostly tried to defend himself, wondering why in the hell she was so angry at him when she was the one who had asked him to marry her sister.

Didn’t she know what men did to a wife on the night of their wedding?

Andrew caught sight of the altercation and could not believe what he was seeing. Unfortunately, King Alexander saw it, too, and in a half-second both men were heading in their direction.

The king wasn’t a fancy, pampered lily-soft nobleman.

In fact, Alexander was a scrapper. If there was a battle, he was in it, and if there was a fight, he was fighting.

He was by no means a passive observer. He had spent all of his forty years fighting rebellious barons who had no respect for his throne or policies.

It was a never-ending battle, and he worked hard to keep the houses, like de Carron, under his rule.

The men nearest the door were laughing as Josephine assaulted Sully. But the laughter ceased abruptly as Andrew and the king arrived. Andrew went for Josephine, but the king shoved him out of the way purposefully, pulling the little hellcat from the soldier.

“What goes on here?” the king demanded.

Only then did Josephine realize that her little tantrum had been observed. She also realized that it was the king with his arm around her, not Andrew. Chagrinned, she looked at Andrew, then at Sully, before replying. She even laughed a little, trying to make light of the situation.

“Nothing concerning, my lord,” she said. “Simply… a game, and nothing more. May I present to you my brother-in-law, Sir Sully Montgomery, and his wife, my sister, Justine.”

The king’s muscular arms were still wrapped around Josephine’s waist. It was clear that he had no intention of releasing her any time soon. He coolly observed Justine as the woman curtsied before turning his attention back to the heavenly-smelling creature in his grasp.

“Very well,” he said, reluctantly letting her go. “Nothing more than a family squabble, I am sure. Now, ladies, if you will excuse me, it has been a long day. I would retire now, but we will have business to conduct on the morrow.”

Josephine nodded. “Aye, my lord,” she said. “I will have the servants show you and your men where to sleep.”

Servants with torches to light the darkened stairs of the keep were brought forth as the king and his entourage swept from the dining hall.

Josephine and Justine watched, then looked at each other and the men somewhat nervously.

We will have business to conduct on the morrow.

But there was no hint of what that business would be, and that had Josephine– and everyone else– apprehensive.

But there was nothing they could do now but retire themselves. The morning would come soon enough.

Josephine turned to Sully.

“Forgive me,” she said sheepishly. “I am sorry I became angry with you. It has been a rather overwhelming day.”