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“Him? Him?”

Brandth stood directly behind Perri. Thankfully, given the intense speculation that swept through all the ladies at Regal’s appearance, no one heard him over the exchange of whispered gossip and flapping of fans.

Elbowing Brandth in the gut was an automatic response on Perri’s part. He shouldn’t have snuck up on her. Although, if she hadn’t been so fixated upon the new arrivals, all but holding her breath in equal parts anticipation and dread, then she could have dodged Brandth’s approach and found a safer, better observation spot.

The man was part barnacle, she’d never shake him now. Especially since from the decided interest lacing Brandth’s tone, he appeared to believe he’d found the answer to the puzzle of why Alia and Perri had urgently wished to visit the Palace.

“Who is he? A former patient?”

“Shush. Lower your voice. If you must know, he’s a neighbour. The new Baron Soutner. His lands border Gloomenthrall woods a day’s ride to the west.” All true.

“If that’s all he is, perhaps you’d like me to escort you to his side, so you might renew old acquaintances?”

Perri slapped away Brandth’s proffered arm.

“I’m perfectly fine where I am. And Baron Soutner and I are not all that close.”

Sensing, without having to look, the heavy weight of Brandth’s honey brown gaze trying to sear through the barrier of the grey scarf covering her face. Damnation, Perri had the distinct impression he didn’t believe her.

“He certainly has a way about him.”

Those gathered under or near the tents watching closely as the Baron paused for a minute longer than was necessary at the top of the stairs. Perri knew to her very bones it was entirely for dramatic effect. Almost like Regal had a prearrangement with the Gods that the sun would act as his own personal spotlight.

Perri fought the urge to race up to him and plunge a dagger in Regal’s black tarred heart. At the same time, she was battling just to remain standing upright. Her knees threatening to give out beneath her as a torrent of memories cascaded through her, bringing with them emotions that had razor sharp edges.

Death by a thousand knife edged memories.

No, she’d survived worse things than Regal Soutner, though he had been the catalyst that had set her on those dire pathways.

Perri was here for vengeance. Until this moment wavering over whether that should include Regal’s death. But now, as the memories receded, and her knees locked tight, she felt washed… clean. He was just a man. A vain, vindictive, manipulative, murderous man. And if it hadn’t been for Levi, perhaps she could have walked away once she’d squashed him.

But, in that moment, she realised that Regal would forever be tied to her child. The one he’d stolen from her. The one he was even at this moment plotting to kill and replace with an heir he deemed more worthy.

The tight bands around Perri’s chest disappeared. A cool steady calm pushing aside any lingering dread. Fear no longer nibbling away at her gut. Only anticipation. Even if her son repudiated her, she would free Levi from his father’s hold, and in order to do that, Regal must die.

The only question that remained then was how much he should be punished before being granted that release? And by what mode should he leave this earth? A painful death would be her first preference. The idea bringing a small smile to her face. Hidden thankfully by her veil.

Yes, Regal would die. But before that, she wanted him to suffer. To feel helpless. Out of control. To spend nights tossing and turning, dread gnawing at his gut relentlessly.

Raising her hand, Perri casually smoothed back the hair above her left ear with three quick pats, a signal. No one watching her would ever guess that she had just, with that simple prearranged gesture, unleashed the Beast. And it was rather euphoric to discover that she felt not one pang of regret. As if a great weight she had been unknowingly lugging around for the last ten years had just dissipated, leaving Perri feeling almost giddy with relief.

Nothing, no one, could ruin this moment… except.

“A neighbour, you say? I think perhaps you might be skirting the truth. I believe I shall have to determine the facts of the matter for myself. One more reason to remain close, if not glued to your side. There’s nothing I love more than unravelling a mystery. Hah, and I thought these festivities would be tedious.”

“Don’t you have something better to do than annoy me? What about securing the future of your own line? There are many very pretty single highly suitable young ladies present, who I’m sure would be honoured by your attentions.”

Laying a hand on his heart, Brandth widened his gorgeous eyes, fluttering his eyelashes.

“Lady Perri, are you saying that you are not honoured by my attentions?”

It was the first time he’d addressed her by her title, and not as his personal healer. It made Perri feel somewhat uncomfortable for some unknown reason. As did his joke. In another life she might have been just another lady on the hunt for a husband, swapping flirty banter with the likes of Lord Brandth De’Luca. But Perri was not single for a start… yet. And no man would seek her hand, let alone continue to flirt with her once they saw what was underneath the veil.

“The honour of your attention all but overwhelms me, Your Lordship. I fear I am too much the country mouse for the likes of your depth and breadth of experience and worldliness. I bid you please honour some other more… worthy woman.”

His laugh was deep and bold. Brandth’s face lighting up with amusement. It suited him, his golden brown eyes gleaming, his grin engaging, inviting everyone nearby to smile as well. Perri bit her lip, Brandth’s carefree amused expression had her stomach dipping suddenly with an uncomfortable momentary spike of heat. Something she’d eaten at breakfast?

Then Brandth did something so shocking that Perri forgot how to breathe. He lifted her hand and placed a quick soft kiss across the back of her knuckles.

“No other young lady present appears able to match your wit, charm, and personable ways.”

He released Perri’s hand, but the place where his lips had pressed against her skin burned, like he’d lit a fuse. Places low in her body awakening with alien heat. No. Damn. Perri had been married, and she was a medical professional. She recognised arousal. Crud, life was so unfair, why this man? This all too pretty, arrogant rogue.

But the body was a simple organism. It signalled its wants at the most basic of levels. Hunger? You fed it. Thirst? You guzzled water. Starved for touch? You found someone to slake the need for contact or procreation.

It would surprise many at the Lair to discover Perri had not led a monastic existence, given her appearance. She’d just been incredibly discreet. Her affair with a blind tinker selling herbs and oils had lasted over a three year period of sparse visits. Until the fourth year, when he arrived at the Lair with a new wife in tow and a babe on the way.

They had parted as friends. Easy on her part, as Perri had never held any deep emotional attachment to the tinker. Those brief interludes of physical contact had been welcome but in no way all-consuming and even with him blind, not once had she removed her veil during their interactions.

But the tinker’s touch had been bland in comparison to Brandth’s. Her skin sizzling still. Her loins heating uncomfortably. Good heavens, this was not the time to begin craving the attentions of a highly inappropriate man. The human body could be so annoying. As a healer, Perri knew that more than most. It was galling to discover it didn’t appear her body was as averse to Brandth De’Luca as her head and heart.

Luckily Perri had excellent self-control. She could conduct a masterclass in it. She wasn’t one of those idiots that when told not to touch something because it was too hot had to test for herself. It went without saying that forming a physical relationship with Brandth would be beyond a bad idea. And the timing? It was unfortunate, but Perri put that down to the fickled tricky Gods interreference. They did like to test and tease mere mortals.

She had so many other, highly important things to focus on, such as rescuing Levi. Torturing and murdering Regal. And getting herself and Alia home in one piece. Perri didn’t need to be told that reaching out for anything when it came to Brandth De’Luca would leave her metaphorically badly burned.

Still, there was this insane niggly little question that kept gnawing away at her gut, what would Brandth do if she just as casually reached out and touched him?

Where was a bucket of cold water you could dunk your head into when you needed one?

Oh, thank the Deities above for sisters. As Alia stalked past, giving Perri’s shoulder the slightest of supportive nudges. But it was the wake-up call Perri needed. Vengeance was at hand. Alia was making the first move. It was time, beyond time, a long, brutal ten years of waiting. Finally, it was time for the two of them to face Regal, and start making him pay for what he did to them.

With that in mind, Perri took a big step to the side, to both get a better view of the coming fireworks, and to make a pointed, non-verbal statement to Brandth - leave me alone, good sir. She was sure he would get the message.

* * *

His aching leg had been Brandth’s main concern out on the playing field. Only for Talac would he limp around a quarry-hammer course. Even with the steel enforced boot and its inner cushioning, Brandth had been careful to avoid putting too much weight on the limb. Using his hammer staff as a makeshift crutch. Missing the well-made Lair pair of crutches that he had left over by the tents.

The game had felt interminable. The ladies they’d been paired up with to start had feigned inexperience with the game, but had certainly proven more than adept at keeping Talac’s ball hemmed in. Unless he chose to be ungentlemanly.

It had been getting beyond frustrating, Brandth unable to gauge which was worse. The insipid boredom of the social interaction, or the persistent throbbing emanating from his healing leg. He was just about to fumble a shot and send Talac’s ball clear to the goal when Alia Gloomenthrall crashed into their section… and damn, if things hadn’t gotten fun.

Watching fire flare into life in his friend’s eyes, as Talac began to pursue Alia around the course had been a welcome distraction. Brandth couldn’t help but wonder though, that glitter in his friend’s eyes, was Talac chasing after Alia, or just determined to win? Either way, it was interesting to note that every time his friend interacted with Alia, she managed to bring out Talac’s usually closely guarded playful side. One he only ever let his closest friends and family catch a glimpse of.

Brandth knew Alia was here for her own reasons. But it had been rather interesting to observe she appeared delightfully unimpressed to have discovered that Talac was the Prince. Her attitude towards his friend appearing unchanged, whether he be merely a Captain of the Guard, or the Prince of the Realm. It apparently mattered not a jot to Alia Gloomenthrall.

This novel experience upsetting Talac’s equilibrium more than a little, Brandth suspected. Given the number of times he’d witnessed his friend’s habitual haughty - I am unimpressed - Palace expression fracture in the last few hours. It readily apparent to Brandth that Talac was unprepared to deal with a female who was underwhelmed by his power and position. Who treated him, instead, like he was merely just another man. One who was useful, yes, but clearly not her priority here.

Alia was here to hunt down bigger game than a titled Prince and an offer of marriage. And it appeared, finally, that her prey had arrived.

That had been obvious when both the Gloomenthrall sisters’ gazes had rested upon the showy rooster, who’d arrived with the influx of guests once the quarry-hammer game was officially over. Neither sister had been able to hide their immediate reaction to setting eyes upon the posing ponce pausing at the top of the staircase.

Standing beside Perri, inhaling the tantalising smell of honey, vanilla and jasmine wafting from her intricately braided fiery red hair, Brandth had witnessed her stance change the moment Baron Soutner exited the Palace. Merely a close neighbour, she claimed.

Which didn’t explain the way her breathing stuttered for a split second. Or the way her next deep breath sounded more reminiscent of a viper’s hiss upon sighting a deadly foe. Perri clasping her hands tightly together as if fighting the urge to clench them into tight fists. Her back painfully ramrod straight, the position of her head telling him her gaze was fixed upon the new arrival.

Brandth had a split second to seek out Alia Gloomenthrall’s reaction, to gauge her response to the newcomer. Like Perri, her attention was rivetted upon Baron Soutner, posing at the top of the stairs. And for just the briefest of seconds, bone deep hatred radiated from her dark blue gaze before her eyes shuttered, and Alia stared up at him and the others joining them as if they were all strangers.

Interesting. Intriguing.

Watching the popinjay saunter down the stairs, smiling, all Brandth’s instincts fired. He wasn’t one for taking an instant dislike to someone, but there was something about the Baron that set his teeth on edge. If the old texts could be believed, and the outer appearance of a man reflected his heart, then Baron Soutner was bucking for sainthood.

Even Brandth, who didn’t normally concern himself with the looks of other men had to acknowledge that Soutner was an outstandingly handsome man.

His white blonde hair was cut and styled to perfection. Short at the sides, but overlong on top so that the tips just barely touched his surprisingly dark long eyelashes that ringed pools of pure clear blue. His skin tanned and flawless. Two dimples creasing his cheeks as the edges of his lips tilted upwards in a perpetual half smile. As if he found the world and its inhabitants wonderfully entertaining, seeming to invite everyone interacting with him to smile too.

His attire was interesting, at least to Brandth. He doubted few would be able to surmise that the shoulders of Soutner’s pale blue tunic were padded, just ever so slightly. Or that the cut of his trousers was deliberate to give the impression than he was taller than he actually was. Small lifts hidden in his boots helping physically on that score as well. Which meant he wasn’t really six feet and two, probably closer to six feet or just under.

The man was a walking charade, Brandth decided. Everything he wore, how he stood, the expression on his face – all carefully considered.

The rings on his fingers were of excellent merit. They screamed that the man was too tasteful to display his wealth in a gaudy fashion. Merely wearing three, two containing diamonds of moderate size and the third, a slightly larger clear sapphire that matched his eyes.

But other signs, supposedly discreet of course, indicated that Soutner was a man of means. The handle of his short sword was studded with gems flashing in the sunlight as he sauntered down the steps. Whilst a gleaming thick gold chain swayed gently against his thigh, as if he’d forgotten to secure his pocket watch away properly after last checking the time.

“That man’s tailor deserves an award. Do you think he’s like a feline if it gets wet? When he dispenses with the padded jacket does he look like a maypole, perchance?”

Perri, her body turned to watch her sister make her way through the crowd, released a short cut off huff of amusement.

“And the boots? Without them, would he come up to my knee do you think?”

“Perhaps his bootmaker deserves an award also.”

His companion conceded in an almost tentative whisper.

“Then his valet should not miss out. Do you think he gets dressed on the balcony so as to gauge the sun’s effect upon his accessories?”

Gods, that sounded almost like a giggle elicited from Perri. A delicious joyful sound that she ceased almost before it had begun.

“Hah, and the man either has done his homework, or knows the value of jewellery at twenty paces. Look how he favours the Bartons and the Rawns with that practised smile of his. What a fascinating man.”

Brandth could have watched Baron Soutner work the crowd all day. How he moved. Never quite stopping. Ensuring that he scoped out the entire crowd before making his first conversational forays.

With that wry dimpled smile of his, and the way his clear blue gaze rested warmly on everyone, it was as if Baron Soutner already favoured each individual in turn with his personal attention. And there was a promise in that gaze, as if to say, soon we will be the best of friends, just you wait.

Perri’s shoulders had tighten again, her posture ram rod straight once more.

“No, I don’t mean fascinating like that. I mean like how you would never take your eyes off a forked tongue red snake. If you meet its gaze, it won’t attack. But the moment you turn your back on it, its fangs will be buried bone deep in your leg.”

Brandth pleased to note Perri’s posture had relaxed somewhat.

“That… that is surprisingly perceptive of you.”

“Flatterer. But be warned, Lady Perri, it will take more than the hard won occasional compliment to win my heart. You’re going to have to work a lot harder than that.”

Perri’s head swivelled abruptly, presenting him with an unobstructed view of the almost opaque scarf. He imagined if he could see her eyes they’d be as big as saucers.

“You… you’re deranged.”

He couldn’t help but laugh. Brandth adored that waspish edged tone in her voice that she appeared to reserve only for his benefit. It meant that the real Perri Gloomenthrall was poking her head out of that dark shadow she hid herself away in.

“You know what they say about mad men, don’t you?”

He leaned in, noting that her ear was perfect and petite.

“We make the best lovers.”

“Something I shall never likely discover for myself, Lord De’Luca.”

He wasn’t sure if she was aware of what she’d said – likely? He’d been teasing, but suddenly his cock was stirring, his gut heating in anticipation of getting his hands on those curves that he’d only tasted ever so briefly back at the Lair.

Brandth considered himself a discerning man. When you were the heir to a fortune and best friends with the Prince of the Realm, you needed to be extremely careful where you sowed your wild oats and what promises you made.

Ever since he’d accidentally pulled Perri down on top of him back at the infirmary, he’d known he could happily while away several hours in a bed with her. But until this moment, he’d hadn’t realised how badly he wanted that to happen… with her, only with Perri.

Well, damn. Now he had a secondary mission. His first remained unchanged. He now knew Baron Soutner was Perri and Alia’s objective. But why and what they actually intended to do was still a mystery to be solved. Secondary to the solving of that puzzle was his new, admittedly suddenly much more exciting objective, bed Perri Gloomenthrall.

It would not be easy. Nothing about this woman was. But that didn’t deter Brandth one iota.

Movement in the crowd caught his attention. Given her height, the sun making her plaited hair gleam golden bright, it was easy to spot Alia Gloomenthrall pushing her way through the throng. The Prince, Brandth observed, trailing in her wake. The gleam in Talac’s eyes letting Brandth know that despite the haughty bored expression on his friend’s face, he was actually having a grand time.

He wondered if Talac was aware that the Gloomenthrall sisters’ target was Baron Soutner. Knowing his friend as he did, he would have already surmised that detail. So, the fact that Alia, with Talac close on her heels, was right this moment closing in on the Baron was intriguing indeed.

A confrontation between the two parties appeared imminent. Brandth sensing fireworks would be in the offing, given the glittering intent gleam in Alia’s eyes. The hunter was closing in on her prey.

Seriously, Brandth was having the best time ever. A mystery still yet to uncover. And a beautiful snappish woman to coax into his bed. Let the games begin.

Dropping his voice to a mere whisper, so only Perri would hear his words.

“Let me know if you need help when it comes time to dispose of the body.”