Besieged and Betrothed

‘Then go back to Devizes and tell her.’

Juliana followed the exchange with a growing sense of amazement. This was—or had been—her castle and yet Lothar seemed to be the one fighting for it. No matter what he’d promised, she hadn’t expected him to actually take sides against Sir Guian, though now she was afraid that his aggressive manner was only making a bad situation worse. His grip on her arm was becoming tighter the longer he spoke, as if he were barely controlling his temper. Even more alarming was the fact that his soldiers appeared to be thinking the same thing. Easily distinguishable in black, they were gradually detaching themselves from the Earl’s men and positioning themselves defensively in front of hers.

‘As you wish.’ Sir Guian suddenly seemed to notice the threat, too, his lips twisting in a smile as frigid as the atmosphere between them. ‘Then I accept your terms, Lady Juliana, whatever they are.’

‘Thank you, Sir Guian.’ She did her best to sound conciliatory. ‘Then Haword is yours.’

‘I’m honoured.’ A triumphant gleam appeared in his eye. ‘In that case, Lothar, you may give my greetings to the Empress. I believe I can take over from here. It’s time Lady Juliana and I became better acquainted.’

She felt bile rise in her throat. The way he was looking at her made it abundantly clear what kind of acquaintance he had in mind. Apparently the way she’d fought him off last time hadn’t deterred him at all.

Then she noticed the silence, so heavy it seemed to shroud the entire bailey. No one was moving either, as if all of the soldiers had frozen where they stood, all of them looking in one direction—towards Lothar and the expression of utter, unmitigated rage on his face.

‘No!’ She reacted instinctively, spinning around and placing herself in front of him as the Baron seemed belatedly to realise the danger he was in, backing away with a look of horror. Lothar’s grip on her arm was painfully tight now, but she forced herself to smile, grasping at the first words she could think of.

‘You can’t go until we’ve said farewell. I bid you a good journey, Lothar... Lothar?’

She stretched up on her toes, trying not to quail before the full force of his tight-lipped fury, forcing his gaze to meet hers. Merely smouldering before, his eyes were positively blazing now, as if there were actual fires behind them. She didn’t understand his reaction, but if it was something to do with her then she had to be the one to appease him. Tentatively she reached up and put her hands on his shoulders, felt the muscles strain beneath her fingertips. Every part of him seemed coiled and ready to do battle.

‘Lothar?’ She repeated his name softly. ‘No fighting, remember?’

For a moment, she thought he hadn’t heard her. Then his gaze shifted, his pupils honing in on her face before gradually focusing, the swirling, Stygian depths fading from stormy black to pale grey.

‘Juliana?’ His voice sounded strained.

‘Yes.’ She practically sagged with relief. ‘Goodbye, Lothar. Please send my greetings to the Empress.’

‘I will.’ He seemed to bring himself back under control finally, clenching his jaw as he looked past her shoulder. ‘But not yet. Perhaps I didn’t make myself clear, Sir Guian, but I won’t be leaving immediately.’

‘What do you mean?’ The Baron’s voice held a distinct trace of fear.

‘I mean that my men need a rest. We’ll stay another night, if that’s acceptable to you, my lady?’

He looked down at her, his breathing still ragged, and her heart seemed to skip a beat. Was that acceptable to her? She’d only just come to terms with the idea of him leaving. Now she had no idea how to feel about him staying.

‘Yes.’ She hardly recognised her own voice.

He nodded, his expression softening briefly and then turning inscrutable again. ‘In that case, it’s time you got some sleep, my lady.’

‘What?’ She pulled her hands away from his shoulders, shocked to realise that they were still there. Somehow she’d forgotten that she w

as standing with her arms around him in full view of all their soldiers! Even Sir Guian was looking at her strangely.

‘You need some rest. Ulf and I will take it from here.’

‘Ulf?’

She turned to her Constable, but he only shuffled his feet. So much for following her orders to the end!

‘No.’ She folded her arms, glaring at both of them. ‘I’m not a child to be sent to bed.’

‘It would be best if you did.’ Lothar’s tone was implacable again.

‘No!’

‘Would you prefer to be carried?’

‘You wouldn’t dare!’