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G od’s wounds! Did the earl have to be here? Martin wanted to punch something when he saw the man Isabella claimed to want to marry seated at the far end of the hall beside Lord Christopher.

He’d met Lord James on several occasions in the past, including twice at tourneys.

Both times, the earl had knocked him off his horse far more easily than Martin would have liked.

The man had an unfair advantage in bulk.

He was a veritable mountain, crowned with sandy curls and a long beard that would not have looked amiss on a Viking.

How was a man Martin’s size supposed to unseat that behemoth?

At least Martin had managed to best him with a sword on one of those occasions.

That was rather cold comfort, though, as he watched the earl’s lascivious grin at Isabella.

“Lord Martin,” Lord Christopher called out, pausing between petitioners. “What brings you to my hall, and how is it that Lady Isabella is traveling with you?”

Now, Lord Christopher was someone Martin liked. He was an affable family man, only a few years older than him, with auburn hair and friendly eyes the color of the sea. When there wasn’t a war on, Martin was a frequent visitor to Yarmouth. It was good to see a friendly face.

“Lady Isabella and I were recently married,” Martin explained, glancing at the earl to gauge his reaction. He was pleased to see the man’s smile sag. “We were headed back to Winchelsea when a storm hit and damaged my ship. I humbly ask that you let us stay with you while I make repairs.”

“Of course, old friend. You’re always welcome here,” Lord Christopher answered. “As you can see, I’m a bit busy at the moment. A servant will show you to your rooms, and you can settle in. We’ll catch up after I’m done here.” He beckoned over a servant and murmured something in the man’s ear.

The servant bowed to Martin, Isabella, and Adelaide, and gestured toward the door.

“Thank you, my lord. I shall see you anon,” Martin said with a friendly nod. “And you, Lord James.” He bowed, but kept it as shallow as possible, giving only the deference that was required of him.

Isabella and Adelaide curtsied, and they all followed the servant out of the hall. As they traversed the dimly lit, stone corridors, Martin brooded over how to navigate the current situation.

Undoubtedly, Isabella would try to reach out to Lord James.

Everything in him wanted to try and stop her, but deep in his heart, he knew that it would be a mistake to try to keep them apart.

He needed to win Isabella’s favor, not trap her into surrender, and that meant he had to risk her honest appraisal of how he stacked up against the earl.

But that didn’t mean he had to stand back and let the other man steal her away unchallenged. While they were at Burgh Castle, Martin would need to do everything he could to goad Lord James into showing his true colors so that he himself seemed like the more appealing option in Isabella’s eyes.

Most importantly, he needed to win Isabella’s trust. He sensed that there was something more holding her back than mere lack of interest. After that kiss, it was clear she was attracted to him. He’d managed to make significant headway with her, but she still wanted to marry Lord James. Why?

She said she wanted all of Norfolk at her feet, but Martin didn’t believe for a moment that was the whole story. There had to be something more to it—something at stake that she couldn’t give way on. Somehow, he had to tease it out of her.

The servant tried to put Martin and Isabella together and send Adelaide to a spare bed in the nursery with Lord Christopher’s children. Isabella immediately balked.

“Adelaide is unwell. She cannot stay with Lord Christopher’s children. She must stay with me so that I can care for her,” she said, pulling Adelaide into the room she was supposed to share with Martin.

The servant’s brow furrowed. “But, my lady, this is the only room we have for Lord Martin. With the earl and his entourage visiting, we are short on space.”

“I will sleep in the great hall with my men,” Martin said immediately.

There was no question that if Isabella had to choose between him and her sister, she would choose Adelaide every time.

And he wasn’t entirely certain he could manage to behave if he shared a bed with her.

He wanted her to choose him with a clear head and open eyes, not because she succumbed to the undeniable attraction between them.

The last thing he wanted was for her to do something she would later regret.

“Are you certain, my lord?”

“Quite certain, thank you. See that Lady Isabella and Adelaide are comfortably settled here and send for a healer to see to Lady Adelaide. She looks feverish.” It wasn’t a subterfuge from Isabella.

Adelaide truly did look unwell, and her cough was worrying.

His heart ached to see such a sweet person suffering so.

“Isabella, might I speak with you a moment?” Martin dismissed the servant to go look for a healer and beckoned to his wife, pulling her into the hallway, away from her sister’s hearing. “I am truly sorry that Adelaide is suffering. Is there anything I can do to help?”

Closing her eyes, Isabella replied, “She’s always struggled with ailments of the lungs. There’s nothing you can do. She needs a healer and rest. Everything else is in God’s hands.”

He nodded slowly. She was right. There was little he could do, much though it galled him. It was up to the healer and the Lord Above now. “And you? What do you need, Isabella?”

“I need—” She paused, biting her lip and looking at him with such sorrow it nearly broke him.

“Yes? Just say the word. I’ll do anything.” There was something specific she wanted him to say. He was certain of it. But he could not guess what it was.

She shook her head slowly. “Nothing. I need nothing.”

He took her hand and squeezed it. “That can’t be true.”

“It is,” she said, pulling away. “I have no heart. The sooner you realize that, the better off we’ll both be.” Squaring her shoulders and composing her face, she turned away from him. “I need to tend to Adelaide, if you’ll excuse me.”

“Of course,” he said, watching longingly as she returned to the room and closed the door.

Slowly, he made his way back to the great hall, pondering her words. She had a heart, whatever she might think. Her treatment of her sister proved that. If only he could find a way to make her trust him!

He would have to think it over as he decided how to proceed with his rival in residence. What would Isabella want him to do? How could he prove himself to her? Or perhaps, more importantly, how could he convince her to follow the heart she claimed not to have?

The answer coalesced in his mind, and he didn’t like it one bit.

If he truly wanted to win Isabella, he needed to give her what she was asking for and let her see if she could hook Lord James.

He needed to give her the freedom to pursue what she thought she desired and pray that she came to her senses and chose him.

She would never trust him if he tried to force her to stay tethered to him.

As he entered the great hall, Lord Christopher was seeing the last of his petitioners.

Two farmers were in a heated argument about who a new calf belonged to, as one farmer’s bull had impregnated the other farmer’s cow when a fence between their properties broke.

Both blamed the other for the broken fence and laid claim to the offspring.

Ah, the joys of being a lord.

Martin stepped around Lord Christopher and leaned toward Lord James. “My lord, might you be able to spare me a moment? There is something important I wish to discuss with you.”

God’s teeth, he did not want to do what he was about to do. Isabella. He was doing this for Isabella. If his gamble paid off, and she cared for him, she would be his, and he would be the happiest man in Christendom. But it could all fall apart. She could still choose Lord James.

The earl nodded and murmured a few words to Lord Christopher before following Martin to a quiet corner of the hall.

“Well, my lord, what is it?” Lord James ran his hand through his blond hair and turned his bored brown eyes on Martin.

“I have something important to tell you regarding Lady Isabella.” He might as well dive straight in, even if he’d rather go for a swim in the North Sea in February.

“How could anything related to your wife possibly concern me?”

Clenching his hand into a fist, he steeled himself. “Truth be told, she isn’t quite my wife yet.”

The earl frowned. “What do you mean?”

“We haven’t uh… Well, you see we haven’t consummated.” God’s wounds, this was agonizing.

“I do not wish to be privy to your marital troubles,” Lord James said, frowning and turning to go.

“Wait. Please. This concerns you.”

The earl chuckled quietly. “I can’t possibly see how.”

“Because she’d rather marry you than me.” There, it was done. His heart hung by a thread, but he’d made himself speak.

“Lady Isabella wants to marry me .” Lord James was staring at him, incredulous.

“Yes. Please don’t make me say it again.” Martin would rather have cut his own tongue out with his dagger than utter those awful words a second time.

“Why are you telling me this?”

Martin might as well be truthful. “Because Isabella will never truly be mine if I trap her in this marriage. If I’m going to win her heart, I must risk mine. She needs to choose me freely.”

The earl’s brow furrowed. “Good God, man. Just get her drunk and tup her ’til she’s bowlegged. God knows if I had a wife that looked like her, I’d swive her until she thought rainbows came out of my prick.”

“And that right there is why she’s going to choose me in the end, of her own free will.” Because Martin would be damned if he was going to lose Isabella to this man.

“And if I have no interest in pursuing your wife?”

Please, God, let that be true!

But in his heart, Martin knew it wasn’t.

“You’re interested. I saw the look on your face when she came in.

And I have no doubt she’s concocted some tempting offer to lure you into a match.

In the end, if I cannot win her heart, I will go through with an annulment and let her go.

You can even have her dowry. You have my word.

But I do not plan to let it come to that.

Her heart may be better defended than the Tower of London, but I will find a way in. ”

Lord James narrowed his eyes and scrutinized Martin.

“It just so happens I have been thinking about marriage recently, and Isabella was on my list of potential candidates. Her family is powerful, and her father is close to the Duke of Normandy. And, the woman has appeal in her own right. She knows the inner workings of Lady Eleanor’s devious mind, and I suspect being on our potential queen’s good side will be of immeasurable value, given what I’ve seen of Lord Henry’s court.

Beyond that, Isabella is a damned good kisser.

I had the pleasure once when I was visiting Falaise.

I would have gone a lot further than kissing if she hadn’t run away when I reached for her skirts. ”

God, Martin wanted to punch him in his smug face. “You touch her without her permission again, and I will run you through with my sword, earl or no.”

Lord James chuckled. “I’d like to see you try.”

“And I’d like to see you die, but alas, we cannot all have what we want.”

Martin rested his hand on the pommel of his sword and grinned at his adversary.

“You think you can take me, Little Baron?” Lord James took a step closer, looming over him.

“I know I can. Because I did. Have you forgotten so soon?”

“Are you calling me out? I could dispatch you today. Then Isabella would be mine for the taking that much sooner.”

It was a mistake to let his temper get the better of him.

Martin knew that. But at the moment, his loathing for Lord James knew no bounds.

The only thing that held him back was the knowledge that Isabella wouldn’t want him to do this.

He’d started this absurd conversation because he wanted to give her a chance to choose freely, and she could hardly do that if he ran Lord James through with his sword.

Taking a deep breath, he deliberately relaxed his shoulders and forced himself to laugh. “And where would be the fun in that? I’d much rather watch Isabella cut you down to size when she realizes what a disappointing husband you would be.”

“If I’m so disappointing, why does she want me for a husband and not you?”

Martin carefully kept his face steady and didn’t wince, even if Lord James’s words cut deeper than any blade.

“My lord, I have spoken my piece,” Martin said, holding the earl’s gaze. “I will do everything in my power to win her heart. But if in the end she chooses you without any coercion, she is yours. I will say no more on the matter.”

The earl shook his head. “You’re a very strange man, Lord Martin. Very strange indeed. You should never have invited me to play a game you’ve already lost. But if you insist, let the games begin.”

“Indeed.” With a curt nod, Martin turned to go, heading straight out to the castle’s practice yard where he could whack the battered wooden pell to his heart’s content with his sword.

Perhaps he had just made an enormous mistake, but in the depths of his heart, he knew it was the right thing to do.

Now that it was done, he could only pray to God that he won.