Besieged and Betrothed

‘He was supposed to marry your aunt.’ He dredged the memory up from somewhere. ‘Your mother was a younger sister, but he said that once he saw her, he couldn’t marry anyone else. He said she had hair like a sunset.’

‘Red.’ She lifted a hand to her head self-consciously. ‘But my father liked it.’

‘Then we’ve something else in common.’

He stiffened, taken aback by his own words. Why had he said that? He never said things like that! It had to be her proximity affecting him, recalling his dreams from the previous night. He was so close that he could smell the delicate honeysuckle scent of her hair, or was it her skin? He was tempted to bend closer to find out...

‘Surrender.’ He cleared his throat huskily. ‘Now, while you still can. No matter whose side you’re on, Matilda’s or Stephen’s, your father would have wanted you to be safe.’

‘That’s all I wanted for him, too.’ Tears welled in her eyes suddenly, bright and glistening like diamond drops. ‘But I failed him. I should never have let him go

.’

‘Go where?’

‘Into battle!’

‘How could you have stopped him?’

‘I don’t know. I just should have.’

‘He was an experienced soldier, Lady Juliana, a good one, too. He must have thought there was a chance of victory for him to engage Stephen in the first place.’

‘There was, but not the way that it happened. I should have realised...’ She bit her lip abruptly. ‘If I surrender, do you promise that my men won’t be harmed?’

‘They won’t even be prisoners. They can join Sir Guian’s men or they can leave. Whichever they choose.’

‘All right. As long as you understand that every decision I’ve made since the battle has been mine and mine alone. I take full responsibility for everything. Any punishment should come to me.’

He felt vaguely unsettled again. What did that mean? The solemn way that she said it suggested there was something else, something he didn’t know about, that she took responsibility for.

‘I’m not here to punish anybody, Lady Juliana. I told you, the Empress only wants the bridge.’

Her expression wavered in a way that he couldn’t interpret, before she reached around him, cutting the bindings on his wrists before holding the dagger out in both hands.

‘In that case, I surrender.’

He bent his head in acknowledgement, trying to dampen the hot swell of desire that seemed to have been unleashed in his body as she reached past him. For a fleeting moment, the soft curve of her breast had pressed against his arm and it had been all he could do not to push her up against the battlements right there and then. Now that his hands were free, he could do it, too...

‘Does it have personal value?’ He reached for the blade instead, weighing it in one hand as he waited for his blood to cool again.

‘The dagger? No, it’s just a—’ She stopped mid-sentence, gaping in shock as he tossed it over the ramparts.

‘Now take off your headdress.’ He curled his fingers to stop himself from doing it. The urge to touch her seemed to be getting stronger every moment. ‘You need to signal your surrender.’

She nodded and took it off at once, waving the material like a flag at the soldiers below.

‘Better.’ His gaze drifted admiringly over the loose tresses before he realised what he’d just said. He’d meant to say good, not better—even if the other word seemed far more appropriate. What in hell’s name was wrong with him? He couldn’t remember any woman ever affecting him so strongly. ‘Make sure your men see you waving it, too.’

She gave a murmur of assent, moving from one side of the roof to the other as he watched one of his soldiers run off towards Sir Guian’s tent. There. That ought to be enough to call off the attack. He felt more relieved than when she’d cut his bindings.

Felt?

‘What next?’ She came back to stand in front of him, covering her hair up again as she did so, tucking away the brightly coloured strands with deft fingers.

He grimaced. He knew exactly what he wanted to do next. He wanted to haul her into his arms and pull that headdress back off again. He wanted to find out if her hair and lips felt as soft as he imagined them. More than that, he wanted to find out where that honeysuckle scent was coming from...

But he had orders to follow—and he had a strong suspicion that she was going to like them even less than he did.