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“Your offer is tempting,” he finally said. “But I must decline.”

Josephine wouldn’t give up. “I sense that you are a good knight, de Reyne, and I do not want to see you fight Andrew over something that never should have happened. I do not want to see you killed.”

He cocked his head. “I may not be killed,” he said. “Did you think of that?”

Josephine refused to entertain such a thing.

“You believe that you will defeat The Red Fury in combat when he is fighting for someone he loves?” she said, rather passionately.

“I am sure you are an excellent swordsman, but are you that good? If you are worried about the king, don’t be.

It would not be difficult to deceive him.

I can simply send word that both you and I were killed in the Dalmellington battle and he will know no differently. ”

Ridge didn’t quite agree with her on that. “The king has many eyes, my lady,” he replied as they entered the smelly, dirty outskirts of Edinburgh. “He may be an unscrupulous, indifferent leader, but he is sly and cunning. He thrives on gossip and covert information.”

Josephine fell silent as Edinburgh Castle loomed closer still and they found themselves on the dirty streets of the city. In truth, she felt true defeat closing in on her. She had run out of options.

Ridge felt the heavy silence between them as it settled.

The woman had tried everything to allow her to return to Torridon– fighting, running, bargaining– and Ridge had remained firm.

His sense of pity for the woman was growing, but he also felt the need to reply to her offer in order to firmly establish his position.

No amount of coercion was going to force him to change his mind in any of this.

His path was set, as was hers.

“My lady, your offer is most generous, and I find, much to my dismay, that I could actually consider it,” he said. “But I regret that I cannot accept and I am truly sorry. I am sorry that my loyalty lies with our king.”

Josephine already knew that and she didn’t want to hear it from him. “As am I,” she muttered.

God… as am I!

There was no more conversation after that.

Edinburgh swallowed them up and Josephine found herself looking at the dark, dirty city with many levels to it.

There were streets above streets, steep roads, and pale, dirty people.

It felt as if they’d entered another world, one of death and darkness and strangers who seemed more like wraiths than people.

Phantoms were in every corner. It seemed to her as if they moved through a maze of avenues to reach the road that led up to the massive, fortified castle at the crown of the city.

The hill that led up to the castle was rocky and steep.

As the horse made his way up the grade, Josephine’s gaze was on the massive building looming before them.

It was made of stone, stained black from Edinburgh’s damp climate, but it looked to her as if the stones were bleeding.

Stained and ugly, they were, and she’d never felt more intimidated or alone in her entire life.

The horse finally made it up the hill and entered into the courtyard of the hilltop fortress, where they were met by a flock of attendants and soldiers.

It seemed to Josephine as if they’d been waiting for them. Hands pulled Josephine from the stallion, but Ridge was off in a flash, grasping her protectively to prevent anyone else from getting a hand on her. She was his charge until the king said otherwise.

Two figures pushed their way through the crowd, and Josephine immediately recognized Nicholas de Londres.

She hadn’t even realized he’d left Torridon, but here he was, and she felt a great deal of relief at the sight of him.

He looked at her with such sadness she was sure he would burst into tears at any second.

The other man had black, curly hair and a thin mustache, and was of an average stature. He bowed gallantly to her.

“Lady Josephine de Carron, welcome to Edinburgh,” he said, in a thin voice that wasn’t quite Scottish, as if he’d been schooled somewhere other than Scotland. “I am William Ward, Chancellor to King Alexander.”

Josephine simply glanced at the man. She couldn’t muster anything more than that. Her attention returned to Nicholas, looking at the man as if he could help her. Nicholas’ emotions were on the surface, as they always were, and he reached out and took Josephine’s hand.

“Come with me,” he said softly, leading her away.

Like a small child, Josephine allowed Nicholas to take her across the courtyard towards the entry. In truth, she clung to him, so very relieved to be with someone she knew, someone she knew to be kind and considerate of her situation.

William watched her go as he stood next to Ridge.

“Even dressed as a man, I can see that she is absolutely magnificent,” he said appreciatively. “No wonder the king wants her.”

Ridge gave William a cold glance. “He wants to wed her to the earl,” he corrected.

William looked at him quickly. “Of course,” he said. “That was what I meant.”

Ridge wasn’t so sure. He gave Ward a nasty glare before following after Nicholas and Josephine. William, seeing that perhaps the king’s bodyguard wasn’t too keen on the situation, wondered if the iron heart of Ridge de Reyne might have a weak spot for the lady.

It was something to ponder, in any case.

The king would want to know.

*

“It is an absolute lie,” Ridge said, struggling to contain his temper. “I do not know who told you such things, my lord, but I can assure you that I hold no feelings for Lady Josephine. If I did, she would not be here.”

Standing before the king as the man sat in his private solar, a massive fire blazing in the hearth, Ridge stood tall and strong and proud before a man he was coming to hate.

Now, someone had accused him of an attraction towards the very woman he’d brought to Edinburgh for the king and Ridge was angrier than he’d ever been in his life.

But Alexander seemed to find some humor in it.

He glanced at his numerous courtiers, who were also grinning.

They all liked to taunt Ridge de Reyne because he was English, an outlander among them, but also because they knew the big man wouldn’t do a thing to them, no matter how badly they tormented him.

“No one would blame you, de Reyne,” Alexander said. He was exceedingly weary, still, from his harried flight from Torridon. He was still in sleeping clothes he’d put on when he’d arrived at Edinburgh. “She is a beautiful woman and you have spent two days and a night with her.”

He said it rather suggestively and Ridge’s jaw ticked faintly. “Because you ordered me to, my lord,” he said. “I spent two days and one night with her because you ordered me to take her from Torridon, and that is exactly what I did.”

Alexander was still fighting off a smile at his bodyguard’s indignation as he reached for a cup of warmed wine that a servant brought him.

“What did you mean when you said that if you had feelings for Lady Josephine, she would not be here?” he asked.

Ridge wasn’t sure if he should tell the king of the woman’s attempt to escape and her general revulsion of the situation. It might focus the king’s anger on her. But he wasn’t in the habit of withholding the truth from his monarch, not even in a situation like this.

“She offered me money to let her return,” he said. “If I harbored any pity for her at all, or if I was the greedy sort, I would have taken her money and returned her to Torridon. But I did not. I am loyal to my king’s wishes, just as I have always been.”

Alexander sipped at his wine, eyeing William Ward as he did so. It had been Ward who had told him of de Reyne’s apparent sympathy towards the lady. But Ward was a gossip with the best of them and half the things he said could not be trusted.

“Of course you are, Ridge,” Alexander said. “I was only jesting with you. Do not be too angry about it.”

Ridge didn’t reply to that. He wasn’t about to forgive a man who liked to torment and shame him when the whim hit him.

“Will that be all, my lord?” he asked.

Alexander could see that Ridge was offended, still. “It will not,” he said flatly. “I have more business with you before you retire. While I realize you must be weary from your journey, I wish to know when you left Torridon and what state it was in.”

Ridge was essentially standing at attention in front of him, his eyes ahead. He wouldn’t look at him. “I left several hours after you did, my lord,” he said. “I had to wait for the right time to capture the lady, and that was difficult.”

Alexander grew serious. “Did d’Vant see you?” he asked. “Were you followed?”

Ridge shook his head. “I was not seen nor was I followed, at least to my knowledge,” he said.

“I was able to leave by a postern gate in the kitchen yard, one that had been bolted but was not manned, at least not when I went through. Torridon sits on a rise and since I did not wish to be seen, I immediately headed to the east, through a heavy forest, and then found a smaller road that headed north.”

Alexander digested that. “And Torridon? What was the state of the fortress when you departed?”

“Still intact. The siege had not started yet.”

Alexander sat back in his chair, pondering the situation.

“They still have several of my wagons,” he muttered, glancing at his courtiers, some of whom had accompanied him there.

“If they know I have taken their lady, and I am sure they will figure that out, then I wonder if I shall ever see them again.”

It was a fairly flippant comment, as if he didn’t take Torridon, their troubles, or what he’d done, seriously at all. As his courtiers grinned, most of them well into the wine that was being passed around, the king turned his attention to William Ward.