Besieged and Betrothed

‘What?’ She found it difficult to breathe suddenly, as if all the air had been sucked from the room. ‘You don’t mean that, Father. You’re not well.’

‘It’s the only way you’ll be safe.’

‘We’ll talk about it later.’

‘No.’ An edge of stubbornness crept into his voice. ‘I might not be able to talk about it later. I need you to marry now. Promise me, Daughter. Marry Lothar.’

‘Lothar?’ She dropped her father’s hand in shock.

‘He’s a good man and I trust him.’

‘Lothar?’ She repeated the name as she stared, thunderstruck, at its owner. Her emotions were still in turmoil after their kiss, but now she felt as if he’d tricked her, too. Was that why he’d kissed her, because he’d been scheming to find a way of keeping Haword for himself? The thought was appalling, and yet wasn’t it also the most likely explanation? Everything he’d done over the past few days seemed to take on a new, more sinister aspect. He hadn’t stayed to protect her father. He’d stayed because he’d seen an opportunity for his own advancement. Kissing her had just been a part of it. The rest of the time he’d been waiting to put the idea of marriage into her father’s head, using both of them! And if he thought she was going to consent, then he could think again!

‘I know I’m not noble, Lady Juliana.’ Lothar’s face was stonier than ever. ‘But I’ll take care of you, I promise.’

‘And my inheritance, too?’ She glared at him. ‘Not bad for a blacksmith’s son!’

She regretted the words the moment they were out of her mouth. Not the gist of them—after all, what other reason could he have to marry her than to claim her inheritance?—but to mention his father after what he’d just told her about him caused a twinge of remorse. Fortunately, his expression didn’t waver.

‘Have I failed you, Father?’ She leaned back over the bed again. ‘Have I let you down?’

‘Never.’

‘Then why would you ask this of me? You used to say that I was as good as any man. Was that a lie?’

‘No. You are as good as any man, Juliana. I believe that, but the rest of the world doesn’t know it, not yet. Forgive me, but I need to know that you’re safe. I’ll never be at peace otherwise. You need to give your consent to each other. Now, so I know it’s done.’

‘Now?’

She caught her breath, feeling as though the floorboards had just given way and she was falling, flailing in mid-air as she tried to find her feet again. If they both gave their consent, then their marriage would be legal. An official ceremony could be performed later, but to all intents and purposes, the contract would be binding. Just saying the words aloud would make her a married woman.

‘I’m tired.’ William looked between them with a beseeching expression. ‘Please. Let me see it done.’

‘I consent.’ Lothar pulled a ring off his little finger as he uttered the words, his voice strong and clear, as if there were no doubt in his mind.

‘Ah.’ Her father gave a nod of recognition. ‘I remember when the Empress gave that to you. After Oxford, as I recall.’

‘The Empress?’ Juliana clenched her fingers, staring at the ring with distaste. It was a plain gold band set with a single shimmering ruby. Beautiful, valuable and tainted. She didn’t want anything that had ever belonged to Matilda.

‘Juliana?’

She unfurled her fists at her father’s prompting and reached her hand out, averting her face as Lothar slipped the band over her finger.

‘I

consent to this marriage.’

He repeated the vow as if to emphasise her own lack of an answer and she sucked in a breath, stung by the irony. How long had she waited for her father to regain his senses and be himself again? For weeks and weeks she’d sat by his bedside, wishing that he’d show some sign of awareness again, but now she almost wished she hadn’t been there to see it, that she hadn’t followed the impulse to check on him one last time tonight before retiring to her own chamber. She could hardly believe what was happening—that he could ask this thing of her. Even though she knew he was trying to protect her, it still felt like a betrayal, as if everything he’d raised her for had meant nothing. And after she’d actually gloated to Lothar about Matilda’s chances of wearing the crown, about her chances of succeeding in a man’s world! Now the words seemed to be coming back to haunt her, as if Matilda herself were taking revenge. Her father had asked of her the one thing she’d never expected and now she had no choice. She couldn’t say no. She was trapped—and all three of them knew it.

The words almost stuck in her throat. ‘I consent.’

Chapter Nineteen

Juliana charged down the stairwell, almost tripping over her skirts in her haste to reach the bottom. Where was he? She was clutching the ring that he’d given her—the Empress’s ring—so tightly in her hand that the jewelled edges bit into her skin, but she didn’t care. All she wanted was to find her husband and throw it back in his face as violently and painfully as possible!

He’d left the chamber immediately after she’d given her consent to their marriage, though he’d sent Ulf up to relieve her soon after, as if he’d guessed that she’d want to confront him as soon as possible. Still, she’d tarried a while, holding her father’s hand and talking about the past—the present was too confusing—until he’d finally closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep again. Then she’d allowed herself to acknowledge all of the grief and rage and feelings of utter powerlessness inside her until she’d wanted to rail and scream at the top of her lungs—and she’d known exactly who she wanted to vent her anger on!

Lothar was standing by the fireplace talking to a group of his soldiers when she entered, though he looked round the instant she emerged from the stairwell.