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"I never asked him to kill her!" Jocelynn shrieked, standing up from her chair with enough force to knock it over and slamming her petite fists down on the table hard enough to make the dinnerware jump. Tears flowed freely from her eyes and her heart thudded in her chest like the powerful storm raging outside the glass windows but she didn’t care as she lashed out at the middle-aged Marquis.

"He didn’t, he didn’t need to kill her," she sobbed. "All he had to do was see the mark for himself and refuse to consummate the marriage. Then, then we could have fixed things. We could have talked about what to do, together, as one big family. But he..."

"And yet you say you love him anyway," Bors snorted.

"I do love him!" Jocelynn insisted. "I, I love him more than anything in this world and I would do anything for him.

Anything to help him become the first Duke of Lothian March, to bear him sons to inherit his throne, I would do all of those things for him and more because I.

I. Love. Him," she said, emphasizing her final words as strongly as she could while trying to reign in the tears that flooded from her eyes.

"Silly girl," Bors said. Slowly, he stood from his chair, walked over to her, and pulled a handkerchief from a pocket to dab at her eyes with. "What did my foolish son ever do for you to earn this much adoration and devotion from you? Hmmm? What has he done to capture your heart."

"He, he’s a hero," Jocelynn said, looking at the suddenly tender Marquis with moist eyes that trembled in confusion. "He’s brave and strong and the greatest hero of his generation. No one can compare to him," she said. Her voice trembled as she spoke but she didn’t understand why Bors would ask such a question. The way he said it made it sound like he didn’t think Owain was worthy of her when she was the one who had to work so hard, just to be worthy of him.

"He could have anyone in the world as his bride, but he wants me," she added in a very small voice.

"He’s a strong fighter, I’ll give him that," Bors said, stepping behind Jocelynn to lift her seat up off the floor and placing it back upright at her spot at the table. "Sit, Jocelynn," he said, gesturing to her chair.

"Don’t try anything funny. No clever words, no pouting looks, I’m far too old for both of those.

If you’re going to marry one of my sons, then I will treat you like a daughter-in-law," he said as he returned to his own seat.

"But at the moment, you’re a daughter-in-law that has yet to earn my trust or approval. You understand?"

"Yes, my lord," she said, using the handkerchief to tidy herself up as best she could. "How can I earn your trust?"

"Start with plain words," Bors said, pouring himself a fresh cup of wine as he carefully regarded the young woman, trying to decide whether or not she had truly submitted after this brief bout of pressure. Her tears, when he wiped them away, felt real enough, but she regained her composure quickly for a woman so young. In the end, he still didn’t know her well enough to be certain, but he could only press forward and look for other opportunities to test her.

"If I declare that Loman is my heir," Bors said. "Will you marry him to cement the alliance between the Blackwells and the Lothians? Or will you cling to Owain, whether he is to become heir or not?"

"I, I’ve never thought of it," Jocelynn admitted, refusing to give the answer that came first to her lips.

Owain had to be the heir, anything else was impossible to accept, but arguing that would get her nowhere.

Worse, the way Bors had framed his question, though he asked her for plain words, was clearly a trap.

"My duty to my family would compel me to secure the alliance with my marriage," she said carefully as her mind raced to find a solution. "But, I don’t have to wed the Lothian heir to do that, do I? I could marry Owain and return to Blackwell County with him. He could marry into our family and our firstborn child could inherit my father’s title.

Until our son is old enough to reign, if my father must retire, then Owain could serve as regent. .."

"You can’t think it’s that simple, can you?

" Bors prodded her as he sipped his wine.

"If I give Loman the throne of the march, I must give Owain to the Church to take Loman’s place.

You said it yourself," he pointed out. "My son is a fierce warrior against the demons.

Some in the Church believe he would make an excellent Templar, no weaker than his former knight Tommin.

If Loman inherits the throne, you will not be able to marry Owain. "

"But I don’t love Loman," Jocelynn protested. "My heart belongs to Owain."

"But does your body belong to him?" Bors asked bluntly. "Tell me truthfully, has Owain spoiled you?"

"He would never!" Jocelynn shrieked. Her face turned nearly as red as the wine in her cup as she protested her innocence. She wanted to say that she was Owain’s woman, that he had ravished her in his bed chambers before he left for Blackwell County, but she’d held firm, believing that only by remaining chaste could she truly secure his love.

But now, it felt like Bors might tear her away from Owain since had no ’claim’ over her body! If she’d known this would happen, she would have given herself to Owain their first night in the Summer Villa!

"Confessor Eleanor has been at my side to protect my chastity and...."

"Fine, fine," Bors said, waving off her startled protests. "Owain courted your sister for two years before we settled the marriage. If I ask him to, Loman could begin courting you now and you could see if he captures your heart," the Marquis suggested.

"And if my heart still belongs to Owain after Loman courts me?" Jocelynn said, staring defiantly at Bors and trembling with emotion. "What then?"