by Shari Anton
“Do you know why we have been summoned, or who else will be present?”
William shook his head. “The clerk did not say, though I would not be surprised to see Henry. He did not approve of the plan we decided upon yester noon. I fear he may have convinced the king to change his mind.”
Damnation. If the king changed his mind, then Darian wouldn’t be leaving London anytime soon and Edward de Salis, a vile, evil man, would continue to ravage villages and maim and murder innocents. The bastard must be stopped soon, and Darian itched to bring the bastard to his knees, then send him to hell.
Unfortunately, Henry, bishop of Winchester, the king’s brother, was quite adept at convincing Stephen to change his mind. But then, one of the complaints often heard about Stephen was his inability to withstand a convincing argument.
One would think a king would have more confidence in his judgment and stand firm on his decisions. Apparently not. Especially when arguments came from the brother whose support and machinations helped put the crown of England on Stephen’s head.
But politics were for others to contemplate and argue over. A native of Flanders, Darian didn’t care who sat on the throne of England. He had his own reasons for becoming involved in this war, his loyalty belonging only to William of Ypres.
“Henry might feel differently if his villages were being burned and his people harmed.”
“Too true. Do you see him?”
They were nearing their destination. Darian’s height proved useful as he glanced around at the men and women milling in front of the doors to the antechamber.
“Nay. Nor do I see any of the earls or other advisors present yester noon.”
A good sign. If Henry had indeed won Stephen over, the bishop would surely be here to gloat.
“Perhaps they are already in the king’s chambers. Ah, the doors open.”
The huge oak doors swung wide. The crowd rushed forward to enter the antechamber. Pushing and shoving ensued, each person trying to gain advantage over their fellows. Their efforts would do them no good. The clerk would decide on the order people were allowed into the royal presence. Unless they’d been summoned by the king or had paid the clerk a goodly sum ahead of time, they would be forced to wait until the clerk deemed them worthy.
One woman had apparently come to that conclusion. Garbed in a white chemise covered by a topaz-hued surcoat, the softly rounded, dark haired woman actually seemed hesitant to pass through the doorway. Darian saw her nervousness in the way her hand smoothed over a gauzy veil that was anything but ruffled. He couldn’t see her face, but could well imagine the doubt he might glimpse in her eyes.
When he found himself wondering what color those eyes might be, he pulled his attention back to where it belonged.
He and William edged forward at the back of the crowd, the king’s summons guaranteeing they would be among the first admitted to the king’s inner chamber. It suited Darian immensely. He didn’t like crowds, and found the air in the palace stifling. Better this audience was over quickly so he could get out into the field and not have to deal with personages of noble birth, most of whom couldn’t be bothered with anything other than their own petty concerns.
The woman in topaz bowed her head and positioned herself close behind two large men who shouldered their way through the middle of the crowd, doing her best to avoid notice by the guards on either side of the door. She slipped into the antechamber without challenge and he could almost feel her relief.
She’s not supposed to be here.
He admired the woman’s boldness, but knew her efforts were for naught. She may have sneaked past the first set of guards, but would never get past the clerk if she wasn’t on his list of those who would be allowed to speak with the king. And he highly doubted she was on the clerk’s list.
But her problem wasn’t his problem. There was nothing he could do to help her even if he’d wanted to, which he didn’t.
Still, his curiosity prodded him to nudge William and ask softly, “The woman in topaz. Do you know who she is?”
William squinted. “Lady Emma de Leon. Have you heard her tale?”
He’d heard of her and her plight.
“Daughter of Sir Hugh de Leon, who had the misfortune of dying while fighting for Maud. King Stephen’s ward. Barely tolerated at court.” As he was grudgingly tolerated. He brushed aside an unwanted pang of kinship. “Must a royal ward be on the clerk’s list for her to speak with the king?”
William huffed. “Probably. Why?”
“Merely wondering.”
Thankfully, William accepted the explanation without comment because Darian truly couldn’t explain his curiosity with the king’s ward.
Lady Emma glanced furtively from side to side, likely looking for a place to hide, giving him brief glimpses of her profile. Young. Smooth skin. Straight nose. Strong jaw. Wide set eyes. Not pretty, but handsome enough for a man to give a second look.
He still wanted to know the color of Emma’s eyes, but he didn’t have the chance to look more closely. Duty called. He followed William to the next doorway, this one guarded by an imperious clerk as well as two burly soldiers.
The clerk bowed. “Lord William, you are expected.”
Darian almost smiled at the clerk’s obeisance to the mercenary captain. Indeed, the king had granted William enough land and rights and fees that, were he not a Flemish mercenary, he would hold the title of earl of Kent. Accustomed to becoming lost in William’s shorter shadow, Darian wasn’t surprised when the clerk didn’t acknowledge him, but merely gave a hand signal to the guard to open the door.
Then the clerk glanced up, and a sly gleam within his eyes sent a shiver down Darian’s spine. Something was amiss.
He entered the inner chamber behind William, his senses alert. All seemed calm and normal enough. King Stephen sat in his ornate armed chair, the chamberlain standing beside him. Waiting. Their expressions gave nothing away.
No one else was in the room. Not even a servant.
Still, Darian sensed a threat and, for the life of him, couldn’t figure out why the back of his neck tingled—until he heard shouts through the still open doors to the antechamber.
“Make way for the bishop! Stand aside! Make way!”
The bishop had to be Henry, Darian realized, when he heard the man’s voice.
“Let them in! Let them all in to witness the king’s justice!”
“What the devil is Henry about?” William muttered.
Darian didn’t know, but sensed whatever the bishop was up to couldn’t be good.
Henry, bishop of Winchester, burst into the chamber, garbed in the full regalia of his office. He hustled toward King Stephen followed by four soldiers bearing a litter.
The room filled up with people. The air grew close and overly warm.
Henry pointed to a spot on the floor in front of the king. The men lowered the litter.
Darian heard the buzz of voices and could feel William uncomfortably shifting his stance, but nothing could tear his gaze from the face of the obviously dead man on the litter.
The face of Edward de Salis, the vile, evil man who yester noon the king had given Darian the order to assassinate. But someone had gotten to de Salis first.
“Darian of Bruges!” Henry, bishop of Winchester shouted. “I accuse you of murder!”
THE EDITOR’S DIARY
Dear Reader,
All’s fair in love and war . . . even a few white lies, a little bloodshed, and a dash of attempted burglary. And that’s just in love. Check out our two Warner Forever titles this December to see why.
Romantic Times BOOKclub Magazine raves Shari Anton’s previous book is a “charming delightful romance” that “sparkles with originality.” Well, prepare to be enchanted by her latest, MIDNIGHT MAGIC. Though she is betrothed to another, Gwendolyn of Leon finds the King has given her hand in marriage and her land to a knight with her family’s blood on his hands. His arrogance astounds her, his steady gaze and teasing smile intrig
ue her. But on this knight’s hand rests the ring Gwendolyn needs to activate an ancient magical legacy . . . and she will do anything necessary to wrest it away—even seduce him. With the seal of the dragon slipped on his finger, Alberic of Chester has gone from landless knight to titled baron. Marrying Gwendolyn would secure his position and Alberic is intent on taking what is rightfully his by king’s decree. But winning the heart of his sensuous and fiery wife-to-be may prove his most daunting fight yet.
Good girls never lie . . . unless it’s their job. Lettie Campbell from Kelley St. John’s GOOD GIRLS DON’T knows that all too well. As a well-paid cheating consultant for My Alibi, the cover stories come easily to Lettie . . . until she discovers the man on the receiving end of one of her whoppers is none other than Bill Bannon—her best friend in high school. How can she lie to him now? But even more shockingly, when did the boy next door have the power to make her heart flutter and her toes curl? As the lies pile up and Lettie and Bill start to burn up the sheets, Lettie knows she has to come clean. Will she ‘fess up before Bill discovers he’s been conned? Grab a copy of this sassy and sensual debut from brand new Warner Forever author Kelley St. John today.
To find out more about Warner Forever, these titles, and the authors, visit us at www.warnerforever.com.
With warmest wishes,
Karen Kosztolnyik, Senior Editor
P.S. Believe in love and the afterlife vampire-style in these two irresistible novels: Susan Crandall delivers the poignant story of a woman who lost her husband and unborn child in a fire and the man who gives her a reason to believe in love again in ON BLUE FALLS POND; Michelle Rowen tells a death-defyingly funny debut about a girl who goes on a blind date and comes home a vampire in BITTEN & SMITTEN.
