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But his efforts were thwarted. On either side of him, Justine and Donald reacted to Sully’s murderous intentions. Donald grabbed his arms while Justine tried to block him with her body, putting her hands on his chest.

“Sully, nay!” she hissed pleadingly. “Sit down! Please, I beg of you!”

Sully was struggling against Donald. Nicholas, his eyes wide with concern, tore his eyes from Josephine long enough to see that Sully was not taking the assault well.

Nicholas knew that they had to help keep Sully calm, lest his blood be spilled right here in front of all of them.

The king wouldn’t tolerate any acts of violence against guests, and most especially against Blackbank.

Quickly and silently, Nicholas slipped from his chair and caught Sully around the torso with his strong, young arms.

“Let us remove him from the hall,” he whispered to Donald, who heartily agreed.

“Let me go, you little whelps,” Sully demanded, fighting all three of them. “Let me go, all of you!”

“Remove him,” Justine said desperately as she gave the struggling mass a hard shove towards the door. “Take him back to our chambers!”

With Donald pulling and with Nicholas pushing, they managed to get Sully several feet from the table and Justine breathed a sigh of relief as they moved away.

But her hope was shattered when a booming voice rang above the commotion.

The earl still had Josephine twisting in his hand and he stepped out into the room, yelling again for the exiting group to halt.

Nicholas, Donald, and Sully came to a halt, turning eyes of anxiety and hatred to the monstrous man. Sully was breathing fire.

The earl’s eyes narrowed at the group. “What goes on?” he demanded. “Who are you?”

Nicholas knew he didn’t mean him; they had met. Quickly, he straightened. He would do the talking.

“My lord, allow me to introduce Sully Montgomery, the Earl of Ayr, and his companion, Lord Donald Muir,” he said evenly. “They are… guests.”

The earl looked right at Sully, who was spitting venom from his eyes. “What ails you, man?” he asked suspiciously.

In his grip, Josephine was nearly hysterical.

The earl would kill Sully in a heartbeat if she didn’t do something.

She turned her head slightly to look at her sister, whose face was a mirror of her own– pure, absolute terror.

Before she could say anything, however, Nicholas answered the earl’s question.

“Nothing ails him, my lord,” he said. “The earl has simply had too much to drink. We were escorting him to bed.”

As Alphonse eyed Sully threateningly, thinking the man looked as if he was about to charge, the king came up behind him as he gripped Josephine by the hair.

“Remove your hand from my cousin,” he said icily.

It was a steely command, not meant to be disobeyed.

Alphonse turned to look at the king with an expression that was nothing short of hateful.

He considered bashing the king’s brains out right there, but he decided against it.

He was, after all, in the king’s court, and even he couldn’t fight all of the king’s men. After a moment, he released Josephine.

“Thank you,” King Alexander said, but he didn’t mean it. He even looked to see if Josephine was all right as she staggered away, rubbing her scalp. But then he pointed at Sully. “This is Lady Josephine’s brother-in-law, and that is his wife, Lady Justine. She is Lady Josephine’s sister.”

The earl looked at Justine. “Not a beauty like her sister, is she?” he said cruelly. “And you, Lord Ayr, wish to challenge me for your sister-in-law’s honor? Ha!”

Sully went mad. Jerking away from Donald and Nicholas, he drew his broadsword from its decorative sheath. “By God and King Alexander, I’ll do more than challenge you!”

The earl responded by yanking his sword from its sheath. It was a huge piece of metal, as tall as Josephine. His eyes glittered coldly.

“I’ll skewer you, little earl!” he declared.

The hall was alive with people dashing to leave, and with soldiers drawing their swords; shouting. Justine was chanting “no, no, no” and Josephine turned beseechingly towards the king.

“My lord!” she pleaded. “Stop this!”

Before the king could speak, Ridge de Reyne came charging into the chamber like a runaway horse, his sword drawn.

He had been outside of the hall, monitoring who was coming and going, when a hysterical servant told him what was transpiring inside.

Sworn on his life to protect his king, even from a giant, he charged into the great hall.

Ridge was an extremely large man. Perhaps not as tall as Andrew, but he was very wide and muscular.

He had never in his life been bested in a fight, sword or fist, but he had doubts about coming to blows with the Earl of Annan and Blackbank.

Prepared for the worst, he put himself in the middle of the melee.

But the king saw that, very quickly, this was going to be a bloodbath. Once Ridge entered the mix, he raised his hands in supplication.

“Cease!” he bellowed. “No blood will be spilled in this hall!”

The combatants paused, giving King Alexander a chance to continue. Somewhat relieved, he began to issue orders. He had to defuse the situation quickly.

“Lady Justine, remove your husband to your rooms and stay there. Nicholas, go with them. De Reyne, take Lady Josephine to her chamber and remain with her.” Then, he fixed an intolerant eye on the earl. “You, my dear Blackbank, will accompany me.”

The group broke up. Justine, Donald, and Nicholas half-carried a reluctant Sully out as Ridge moved swiftly to Lady Josephine, sweeping her into his enormous arms and whisking her from the room. In a matter of seconds, the room was nearly empty.

Alexander fixed the earl with a cold stare. He was beginning to wonder if he had made a serious mistake.

“Now, d’Vant,” he said quietly. “What you do with Lady Josephine when you go back to England is your affair. But while she is under my roof and is my charge, you will kindly show her the respect she deserves. And that includes her family as well. Is that understood?”

The earl cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Clearly, my lord,” he said, simply to pacify him. But he didn’t mean it.

Alexander wasn’t stupid. He was very astute in his dealings with men, and he could see in Alphonse’s eyes that the man had absolutely no respect for the king, his position, or anything else.

Alphonse was a man used to having his way, in all things, and he considered orders from the king an annoyance and nothing more.

Mostly, Alexander saw Josephine’s death in the cold, black depths of Alphonse’s eyes.

Now, he was starting to feel some guilt for what he’d done.

He’d taken his beautiful young cousin and pledged her to a monster.

Aye, he’d already known that but, somehow, now it was different.

He’d come to know Josephine and knew she was an extraordinary woman, like her mother.

Truth be told, perhaps that was Alexander’s biggest weakness– long ago, he’d had a great love for the Lady Afton.

Perhaps he still did. That being the case, he couldn’t condemn the woman’s daughter to such hell.

As the great hall around them began to settle down, the king shook his head.

“I hope I do not regret this,” he muttered, eyeing Alphonse.

“Do not make me wish I had not pledged my young cousin to you. I could have very easily pledged her to another man who would be worthy of her. But because I honor our alliance, I honored you with her hand. If you make me regret such a thing, there will be consequences.”

Alphonse didn’t take anything Alexander said seriously. “What consequences?” he asked. “Once she is my wife, there is nothing you can do. And I will do what I wish to my wife.”

Alexander’s eyes narrowed. “Harm her and I will bring all of Scotland down over you,” he threatened.

When Alphonse merely lifted an eyebrow, as if he didn’t care, Alexander’s rage knew no limits.

“By God’s Bloody Rood! I should have left the woman to her betrothal with your brother, but I foolishly believed I was doing what was best for her and for my throne.

And you have the arrogance to refute me and tell me it is none of my affair? ”

Alphonse was prepared to retort, at least as much as he dared to a king, but something the man said caught his attention. In fact, he was most puzzled by it, fixated on it.

“ My brother?” he repeated. “What about my brother?”

Alexander could see the man had no idea what he was talking about and, in that knowledge, he felt some smugness. He was about to lay some knowledge on the man that might change the entire dynamic of the situation.

“Your brother was betrothed to Lady Josephine but I dissolved it and, instead, gave her over to you,” he said, seeing a genuine reaction of shock on Alphonse’s face. “Did you not know that? Your betrothed was once pledged to The Red Fury.”

Alphonse’s mouth popped open in shock. He wasn’t any good at hiding his emotions. “The Red Fury?” he said, stunned. “My… my brother is The Red Fury?”

Alexander was disgusted that the man knew nothing of his kin.

“Were you not even aware of that?” he said.

“The greatest mercenary lord in all of England and Scotland is your brother, Andrew d’Vant.

I have met the man. He is a beast of a man, although not as beastly or barbaric as you are.

I took that woman away from him to give to you.

So if you harm her, not only will all of Scotland come down over you, but so will The Red Fury. I doubt you will survive his wrath.”