Besieged and Betrothed

He glanced past her, through the arch of the gatehouse into the bailey beyond. It was a trap. No enemy turned from hate-filled defiance to willing surrender so quickly. She was trying to lure him into the castle, but why? To shoot him? No, if she intended that then she could have given the order from the battlements. More likely she was planning something else, some last-ditch, desperate attempt to take him prisoner—but how would she do it? If the idea had only just occurred to her, as he was almost certain it had, then she was probably making up a plan as she went along. She couldn’t order her men to seize him straight away, not whilst he was still armed and with the drawbridge still lowered behind them, providing a possible route of escape. In which case, she’d need to draw him further into the castle, probably into the keep, and if she wanted to avoid bloodshed then she’d need to hold her men off, too...then find some other way to disarm him.

He’d like to see her try. She had nerve, he’d give her that, but how far would nerve take her? Apart from his sword, he had a dagger in his gambeson and a seax in his boot, not to mention assorted poignards concealed about his person. She’d have to undress him completely to find all of them and he’d definitely like to see that.

On the other hand, what would happen if he didn’t follow her? If he ignored her invitation and walked away, would she still be willing to surrender the castle in an hour? She didn’t strike him as foolhardy, but she’d already proven somewhat unpredictable. If she refused his terms then he’d have no choice but to launch an attack, and then all hell could, and most likely would, break loose. Whereas if he went with her, if he pretended to accept her offer, then he’d still stand a chance of convincing her. If she didn’t throw him into a dungeon first...

He stole a fresh glance at the fortifications. The castle would make a reasonably effective prison, though not inescapable, and she’d have to catch him first. He hadn’t met an opponent who could outwit him yet and he had no intention of starting now. All he had to do was stay one step ahead. In the meantime, the thought of a warm hearth and some female companionship was distinctly appealing. He’d barely had a chance to breathe over the past few months, either fighting or riding between skirmishes on the Empress’s behalf. A brief rest, even with a woman who was trying to entrap him, would make an interesting change, and if by some unlikely chance she succeeded...well, he trusted his men to carry out his orders, no matter what. The attack would go ahead tomorrow as planned, whether he was there to lead it or not. There was no risk to the Empress’s plans, only to him—and he was expendable.

‘Are you coming?’

He looked down again. Lady Juliana was standing on the very edge of the drawbridge, the sultry timbre of her voice replaced by a nervous quaver that was somehow more powerful than all the fluttering eyelashes in the world put together. He felt a tug in his chest as if she were actually pulling him after her. She looked worried and he felt strangely reluctant to disappoint her. Not that it made any sense. She was a siren trying to lure him into a trap. He ought to stuff up his ears, walk away and leave his ultimatum as it stood—let her surrender in an hour or face an assault at dawn. That was what he ought to do, what his men, not to mention the Empress, would expect him to do. Except that he found it utterly impossible to do so.

He looked down at his feet, vaguely surprised to find them already moving, following behind her like a dog after its mistress. Damn it all, it was a trap, most definitely a trap, but at least he’d go in with his eyes open.

‘Welcome to Castle Haword, Lothar.’ She gave another coy smile, unable to hide completely her look of relief.

‘Lead on, Lady Juliana.’

He rested a hand on his sword hilt, resigning himself to his fate as he followed her under the portcullis and through the great archway. Whatever she intended, it ought to be entertaining at least. Not to mention a far more agreeable way of passing the evening than with de Ravenell. If nothing else, he was interested to see just how far her pretence of seduction would go. He’d

no interest in frightening or deflowering maidens, but if she thought she could manipulate him so easily then he’d be sure to give her a lot more than she’d bargained for.

His lips curved in a slow, anticipatory smile. By morning, he fully intended to have both castle and woman exactly where he wanted them.

Chapter Four

Juliana pressed a hand to her stomach, trying to quell the feeling that she was about to be sick.

What was she doing? Her legs were shaking so violently that she didn’t know if she felt elated or terrified or both. Had that really been her, flirting so shamelessly with an enemy warrior in full view of the castle walls? She didn’t know where the words had come from, but amazingly her siren’s performance actually seemed to have worked. Deep down she hadn’t really thought that it would, yet there he was at her shoulder, following her into the bailey like just another one of her soldiers. She only hoped that disarming him would be so easy.

She hauled in a few deep breaths, making a conscious effort to swing her hips as she walked. If brazen was what he wanted, then brazen was what he’d get. Up to a point anyway. She’d led him to expect... Her courage baulked at the thought of what she’d led him to expect. She wasn’t even completely sure what it was, but she was a lady. There was only so far a lady could be expected to go. Wasn’t there?

She threw a quick glance over her shoulder and then wished that she hadn’t. Of all the soldiers in the Empress’s army, she doubted she could have found a more intimidating prospect. With his broad shoulders, Lothar put her in mind of a battering ram, though surely a battering ram would show more emotion. If he was remotely concerned about entering the castle on his own, he didn’t show it. On the contrary, his confident stride suggested Haword was already his for the taking. Well, it wasn’t, not yet. It was still hers, though if her plan failed, she might as well unleash a wild animal in the bailey herself. What would happen if he guessed her deception? How many men would it take to restrain him? More than she was willing to risk.

‘My lady?’ Ulf stepped out in front of them and her hopes plummeted at once.

‘Constable.’ She shot him a warning look. ‘This is Sergeant Lothar, the Empress’s envoy. He and I will be taking refreshments together in the hall.’

‘Then I’ll accompany you, my lady.’

‘That won’t be necessary, thank you. We have a great deal to discuss. In private.’

‘It isn’t seemly...’

‘Please see to it that we’re not disturbed.’ She spoke over him, jutting her chin out as his expression darkened mutinously.

‘He ought to surrender his weapons.’

‘Constable, you insult our guest!’

She whirled around, though to her relief their guest didn’t look remotely offended.

‘Not at all.’ Lothar shrugged, though his stony gaze rested on Ulf a little too keenly for her liking. ‘It’s a reasonable request. Though there’s only one of me and...’ he glanced nonchalantly around the bailey ‘...around fifty of you? Surely you aren’t afraid of those odds?’

‘Under the terms of a truce, it’s customary to leave your weapons outside.’

‘If this were a truce I’d agree, but I don’t recall anyone uttering the word.’ He quirked an eyebrow towards her. ‘Did you, my lady?’

‘I’m mentioning it now.’ Ulf’s tone was belligerent.