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I sabella reluctantly left Adelaide asleep to go in search of the Earl of Norfolk.

The healer was worried, but the poultice he had applied to Adelaide’s chest seemed to have eased her breathing.

Her sister was still feverish, despite the potion the healer provided to balance her humors.

If Adelaide wasn’t improved by morning, the healer was going to bleed her, poor thing.

As if her sister didn’t already have enough scars on her arm from previous bleedings.

But there was nothing more to be done at the moment, so it was time to secure their future.

She found Lord James in the practice yard, battling one of his men with a wooden sword. The earl was positively enormous, and each blow he dealt had such power behind it that the other man was knocked back as he blocked.

Lord James was handsome, she supposed, in a sort of rugged Viking way.

She rather liked it when he’d kissed her the year before, even if he had gotten a bit handsy, forcing her to step away.

Looking at him now, though, she felt none of the warmth of attraction she used to feel in his presence.

Her thoughts shifted to Martin unbidden, to the kiss they had shared, the heat of which far exceeded any kiss in her experience.

Her heart yearned for her to turn back, find Martin, and confess everything. But could she trust him?

No, she could not. And while she didn’t trust Lord James either, she was confident that she could manipulate him into doing what she wanted, unlike Lord Martin who had resisted her efforts to manipulate him at every turn. The way he saw through her was uncanny.

She was unaccustomed to having anyone see past her bravado.

It felt good to be seen—a little too good.

Her heart beat faster at the thought of Lord Martin’s all-too-insightful eyes seeing the truth beneath her artifice.

But her own heart was immaterial in all of this.

She wanted to marry Lord James for Adelaide’s sake, not her own.

She caught his eye, and he immediately halted the fight. “If you’re looking for your husband, my lady, he’s with Lord Charles in the great hall.”

This might have been the only opening she got to speak to him alone, so she might as well dive in. “Actually, I was looking for you. I was hoping we might speak privately. I have important news from my father.”

The earl’s gaze flicked to his man. “Chester, leave us.”

The other man departed without a word. Good. There would be no one to overhear.

Lord James sauntered over, looking her up and down with a smoldering gaze.

Did he suspect what she was about to tell him?

But how could he? Perhaps he was merely depraved enough not to care that she was a married woman.

The thought sent a shiver up her spine. But she was doing this for Adelaide, and she would see it through.

“So… you have me alone. What did your father wish for me to know?” He smirked knowingly, and her stomach churned.

“Actually, it has nothing to do with my father. I wanted to speak with you. I have a proposition for you. How would you like to become the Royal Exchequer when Lord Henry becomes king?”

The earl’s eyebrows shot up. She had surprised him. Good. She wanted him to see her value as an ally. She had no intention of merely being one of his many conquests.

“What makes you think Henry Fitzempress is going to win this war, and why would he consider me for such a plum position when I’ve never come out openly in support of him?”

“If King Stephen had the strength to fend off his challenger, he would have done so by now. We both know the Duke of Normandy had more land, more men at arms, and more wealth than our so-called king. He is not bringing the full force of his army to bear because he doesn’t wish to destroy the land he hopes to rule, but we both know it is only a matter of time before Lord Henry wins. ”

He stared at her for a long moment. “It truly is extraordinary how devious your little mind is. One might almost think you a man. Do go on. I’m intrigued.”

Isabella forced herself to unclench her fist. He could insult her “little mind” all he liked as long as he took the deal, and she got to keep Adelaide safe.

“I know who the duke plans to make exchequer when he takes the throne. I also know a secret about the man that could ruin him utterly with Lord Henry. If you were the one who brought this tidbit to His Grace, you could easily insinuate yourself into the man’s position.

Think of it. You would have all the wealth of the English crown at your command as soon as Lord Henry wins the war. ”

The flash of greed in Lord James’s eyes was momentary, but it told Isabella everything she needed to know.

“Tell me more of this fairy tale where I’m sitting atop the king’s treasury. It amuses me.”

Lord James might be trying to act nonchalant, but Isabella could tell she had him hooked, much to her dismay. Success meant sacrificing any chance of future happiness. But if she could save Adelaide, it was all worth it.

“I would, but I’m afraid further details come at a price.”

He’d taken the bait, and now it was time to reel him in. It did not escape her notice that she was behaving exactly like the heartless women who made her life so miserable. Was this truly who she was? But what choice did she have but to follow their example with her sister’s life at stake?

Steeling herself, she took a deep breath. “I’ll tell you everything you need to know if you marry me and allow me to keep my sister with me.”

The man didn’t blink an eyelash at her demand. How could that be? It was far more shocking than her offer to make him exchequer.

“Tempting. But how could we marry when you are already wedded to another?” He stepped closer and ran his knuckle down her cheek.

It took all her willpower to hold still and not bolt. Good Lord . She was going to have to let this man touch her any way he wanted for the rest of her life. The thought made her blood run cold.

“Martin and I have not consummated the marriage. We can still have it annulled,” she said, holding very still and wishing he would back away.

“And how can I be sure of that? I have no interest in marrying used goods.”

Ugh. This was how he treated a prospective wife? “You’ll have to take my word for it.”

“No, my lady. I want proof. Come to my bedchamber and show me just how pure you are, and I’ll consider your offer.”

Shock rippled through her. He wanted her to sleep with him before they were wed to prove her virginity? What was to stop him from taking advantage of her and then refusing to follow through with the wedding?

She took a step back. “Absolutely not. I will not share your bed until we are married. You must take or leave my offer on its merits without such proof.”

“And if I refuse?”

“Then I’ll find someone who has the vision and ambition to recognize my worth.” She really hoped she wouldn’t have to. He was by far the most convenient option available to her, and she needed to secure her and Adelaide’s futures quickly.

His eyes narrowed. “Why is Lord Martin playing along with your scheme? I could hardly believe it when he came to me and told me of your interest in marrying me. I can’t imagine what subtle game you two must be up to.

I don’t believe for a moment that blather he spewed about how he wants you to choose him of your own free will rather than be trapped in marriage. ”

Isabella’s heart stuttered at Lord James’s words. “Martin said what?”

The earl crossed his arms and stared down at her.

“He told me that same thing you did—that you hadn’t consummated the marriage and that you wished to wed me.

One minute he seemed to be encouraging me to steal you away and the next he was threatening my life if I dared to touch you without your leave.

And he kept going on about how he had to earn your trust. It was very confusing. ”

Martin couldn’t possibly have meant all that, could he? But what possible reason would he have to tell Lord James? Unless her attempts to convince him that she was a shrew had actually worked. Had she worn him down? But then, why would he have said he wanted to earn her trust?

“I hardly know Lord Martin. I couldn’t say what might be going through his mind.

But it doesn’t matter. He was sent by Lady Eleanor and can’t be trusted.

I need you to guarantee safety for my sister and me.

Marry me, and I will make you one of the most powerful lords in England. That is my offer. What say you?”

He was silent for a long, agonizing moment.

“You are asking me to take a significant gamble. What guarantee do I have that you can make good on your lofty promise? And you refuse to come to my bed to provide me with irrefutable proof of your innocence. For all I know, you might have been defiled before your wedding to Lord Martin, and he simply wishes to be rid of you.”

How dare he impugn her honor like that! If Isabella were a man, she would have challenged him to combat on the spot. It was only with great difficulty that she refrained from striking out with her bare hands.

“But,” Lord James continued, raising a placating hand, “I do like a gamble, and the prospect of being exchequer has undeniable appeal.” He stroked his beard. “You are confident you can deliver on your promise?”

“I am, my lord,” she said through gritted teeth. She almost had him, and never had she been so reluctant to succeed.

He nodded slowly. “I must consider. You will have my answer within the sennight. In the meantime, I expect you to keep your distance from Lord Martin. For me to even consider this, there must be no doubt as to whether your marriage has been consummated. If there is the slightest appearance that you are anything but chaste, the deal is off.”

It wasn’t a definitive answer, but she had every reason to believe that he would say yes in the end. For the moment, she had a respite where she might dream of what it would be like if he said no. But within a mere sennight, her fate would be sealed.

“Of course, my lord.”

“Very good. Now leave and call my man back. You interrupted my practice, something I would advise against in future.”

He was treating her like his servant, and they weren’t even married yet. A burst of rage coursed through her, but she forced it down and curtsied. “I won’t do it again, my lord.”

She hurried from the yard, found the man named Chester, and conveyed the message.

Then she found the stairs to the tallest turret in the castle and climbed them.

Only when she reached the top did she let the tears she’d been holding back fall.

The deed was done. She’d followed through with her plan despite the warning in her heart that she was making a terrible mistake.

If she succeeded, her sister would be safe, and her own position of power would be secure.

This was exactly the outcome she wanted, so why did her victory taste like ashes?

Wiping away her tears, she looked out at Yarmouth and the surrounding countryside.

All this could belong to her if she could only tolerate being married to a boor.

The compensations of putting up with the earl would be immense.

And if she succeeded in making him the king’s exchequer, she would find herself one of the wealthiest women in England.

While her mother and Lady Eleanor ordered her to marry Lord Martin, they had both spent years instilling a very different lesson. A woman’s worth was determined by her husband, and marrying a man of power and position was the most important thing a woman could do.

Sentiment was a luxury that women couldn’t afford.

It led them to make foolish choices, and men would inevitably disappoint them.

Marriage was not about romance. Hadn’t Lady Eleanor said as much a thousand times?

It was far better to wed a man one knew one disliked than to harbor hopes of something more, which would inevitably be dashed.

The feelings Isabella had for Martin would pass, and what would Isabella be left with then?

A lowly position amongst England’s gentry.

Isolation from everyone she cared about.

The guilt of having failed to save Adelaide from finding herself under Lady Eleanor’s thumb, and that was if her sister even survived.

If Adelaide died alone and neglected by the heartless woman she served, Isabella would never forgive herself.

One way or another, Isabella had to see this through and marry Lord James. She had set the wheels in motion, and now there was nothing she could do to stop them. Her fate was in the hands of God.

Taking deep breaths of crisp, fresh air, she composed herself and reassembled the mask she showed the world of scrupulous indifference and haughtiness.

“I have no heart to lose,” she murmured to herself, wishing rather than feeling it to be true. With as much conviction as she could summon, she descended the stairs to seal her own doom.