by Wend Petzler
Alison dipped to a low curtsy before the royal couple. “Your Majesty,” she murmured, her voice soft, her large gray eyes downcast.
The Queen frowned slightly, trying to recall the young woman. Suddenly, she remembered who the girl associated with. However, if Isabella was willing to accept Lady Alison, she would, too. “Rise, Lady Alison, you are most welcome. I will have a chamber prepared for you. Do you have need of maids?” Phillipa inquired, noting none accompanied them.
Relieved they accepted her new friend, Isabella dipped in a curtsy. “We would be grateful, Your Majesty."
Inclining his head, Edward instructed, “Please follow Charles, he will see to your needs. Dinner is in two hours.” Turning to Drago, he spoke firmly, “Accompany me, I wish a word with you."
Uncertain, Nicolas glanced at his wife, heartened when Isabella winked at him before following the butler. He and Edward went to the King's study. Once behind closed doors, the King rounded on him.
"I sent you to marry her, changing my cousin was not part of my plan!"
"Your Majesty, I have done what you commanded. What changes have I made for which you are so angry?” Nicolas was at a loss. What crime had he committed to incur the King's wrath?
"Without Isabella's support, you do not have an army and you must hold Blood Keep safe from my enemies. As you are my Red Dragon, champion of England, Isabella leads the Black Army as my enforcers. They are as feared as you are loved, the balance is necessary to rule my kingdom. Isabella has suffered more than any I have known and still she is generous in nature. She is more precious to me than my own siblings. I value her certain ... talents which, in time, you will come to understand and appreciate—I hope."
What did Edward mean by Isabella leading the Black Army? Did not the Demon Lord lead the men in black? He was hesitant to share with Edward his failure to bring the Black Army under his command. “There have been problems with the Black Army. Have you any word about the Demon Lord?"
"Do not worry, the Demon will return to Blood Keep before the Tournament. I want the world to see the Demon Lord and the Red Dragon united and invincible.” Edward clapped the confused man on the back. “Now, go and make ready for dinner. Phillipa has planned a superb feast.” Reaching for the door, Edward hesitated. “The man who harmed my Bella is within the palace, isn't he?"
Surprised the king knew of Isabella's whipping, he answered, “Yea, Sire, I believe I know who hurt her. From what I have gathered, Lord Alden was the last to see Isabella uninjured.” A deadly gleam in Nicolas’ eyes gave evidence of his desire to kill the bastard who harmed Isabella.
Pursing his lips, Edward thought how to handle the situation. At first, he wished peace between Alden, but on second thought, letting the snake live might be a costly mistake. “Since Isabella appears to have recovered from the incident, I shall leave the man in your capable hands. Deal with him as you see fit. I will back your decision."
Bowing to his king, Nicolas was humbled by the King's confidence in him. “I am honored by your faith in me, Your Majesty."
Edward placed a hand on the knight's broad shoulder. “You are wise and inventive, just a few of the many reasons why I choose you to marry Isabella. God be merciful when you truly understand what your wife is capable of!” Edward laughed heartily, escorting his favorite knight from the chamber.
Before Nicolas could question him further, Edward closed the door. What did the King mean? Resigned, Nicolas asked the steward where his chambers were and followed the man's directions. Deep in thought, he failed to see the red-haired beauty grow frustrated when he did not notice her.
Losing patience, she waved at him enthusiastically, attracting his attention. “Nicolas! It's been ages since we last met. How are you?” Lady Emma asked coyly, her ample bosom near to bursting from the tight confines of the low cut neckline of the yellow gown she wore.
Nicolas halted in surprise when Emma grasped his arm familiarly. “Lady Emma, you are looking quite well.” He smiled tolerantly as her blue eyes warmed as her gaze swept over him.
Brushing his chest suggestively with a possessive hand, “I'm pleased you noticed me. A long time has passed since we last were together. Perhaps we can slip away to somewhere private and reacquaint ourselves, possibly relive old times shared?"
Uncomfortable with her closeness and the sure knowledge his volatile wife was somewhere nearby in the castle, Nicolas took Emma's delicate hands firmly in his. “My lady, I regret to inform you, I am married."
Lush, red lips formed an artful pout. “So? I've missed you, my lover, and I've been so lonely without you.” She rose on her toes, set to kiss Nicolas when a smooth, deadly voice interrupted her bid.
Isabella's eyebrow rose in question, a predatory gleam burned in emerald eyes fixed on her prey, Lady Emma. “I do believe you have my husband in your grasp. I suggest you remove your hands before I come to the conclusion you wish to become...” stalking closer to the tall, willowy female with flaming red hair, “hurt.” Spoiling for a fight, a dangerous half-smile curved Isabella's lips.
Assessing Drago's wife, beautifully gowned in peach velvet, Emma grew suddenly uncertain. The woman broke tradition and had forgone her wimble. She had to learn more about her enemy before she declared war. “I only welcome Nicolas home. We use to be quite close, if you gather my meaning.” Assured of her sexual power over men, she dared to place a kiss on his cheek.
Sighing dramatically, Isabella took Nicolas’ arm in hers. “I truly am sorry for your loss. Seeing as Edward gave him to me, I feel I must warn you,” Isabella glared a warning at the outrageous female. “I don't share!” Isabella led her alarmed husband away from the startled woman.
Wise to keep his mouth shut, Nicolas followed his wife. It warmed his heart that Isabella was jealous. Still, he worried how she would handle Emma's harmless games. Isabella possessed a nasty temper.
"I've a bath readied for you.” Isabella informed him when they entered their chamber. Picking up her skirts, she sat on the bed, spreading them out around her so not to crush the fine material. Pretending indifference, she covertly watched Nicolas disrobe. Fuming over the brazen hussy, she reflected on the many times she envied the flocks of women who plied for Nicolas's attention. He was hers now and she would not lose him, not now. Startled by her possessive thoughts, she pondered her growing feelings for Drago. Could she.... No! She couldn't breathe. Could she actually be falling in love with her handsome husband?
Lit candles warded off the dark, making his muscular body pure perfection in the gold cast of light. She watched him sit in the gold-gilded tub and bathe, her breath caught in her throat as she gazed at his glorious body. Her thoughts turned involuntarily to their love-making the night before, causing her to blush. Nicolas raised an eyebrow in question, fascinated by the play of emotions on her ethereal features, something he realized was happening more often.
"What are you thinking?” he asked devilishly.
Shrugging her shoulders, her face went blank, hiding her thoughts from him. “I'm famished. How long will you be?” She dared not look up, not wanting him to see the hot desire coursing through her body, ignited just by looking at him. The sensual fire seared her blood, making Isabella breathless. Wanting to feel the heady possession of his mouth covering hers, his strong arms crushing her to his heavy body as Nicolas swept her to heaven made her light-headed. What in hell was she condemned to? How could one man deter her from her purpose when all others had failed to bring any response except friendship or hatred?
Disappointed, Nicolas rose from the tub, water running in rivulets down his powerfully built body, tanned skin glistening. He reached for the towel Isabella held out to him and her eyes briefly met his. Nicolas’ breath caught as he witnessed the raw heat burning in the emerald depths for him. Her breathing shallow, rapid with the quickening of her hungry body as he dried off with the towel, she watched him as he did her.
Fascinated by the rippling play of his muscles, her gaze was captured by amber-colored orbs
burning her by the intense fire of his own desire. Nicolas tossed the towel on a chair and leaned to kiss her parted lips, his larger frame pushing her back on the mattress. She breathed Nicolas into her soul as her mouth slanted to kiss him more fully, her tongue melding with his velvety rough one. He pushed her willing body further down, pressing his hips to hers, pinning her.
Resting his elbows on either side of her, Nicolas caressed her face, sliding his fingertips over the slender lines of her neck, feeling the rapid beating of her pulse in his palm. Her fingers buried in the thick waves of his dark mane, pulling him down to kiss him again. Groaning, his hand slid over a ripe breast, the sweep of his thumb massaging the hard nipple through the material made her gasp in delight. All Nicolas wanted was to bury himself deep into her hot, moist sheath. All rational thought escaped him until one interjected in his mind. The King expected them to attend the feast. Forcing himself to break contact from Isabella's delicious mouth, he heaved a great sigh of frustration.
"We must go to dinner,” Nicolas whispered, smiling when Isabella pouted. He leaned to press a kiss on her forehead, turning a wicked smile to her. “After dinner, we shall continue this inspiring conversation. I want to hear you beg me to stop as I ravish every delicious inch of your body."
A throaty laugh escaped her as she held Nicolas’ face in her slender hands. “I will make sure you keep your promise."
He brushed a quick kiss on her mouth before rolling off her to dress in his evening clothes. “I would be disappointed if you did not.” Turning serious, he frowned at her. “I want you and Alison to remain by my side. Alden will seek any opportunity to cause trouble. If such happens, I handle him. Agreed?” He placed a lean finger under her chin, lifting her face up so he could read her expression.
Frowning, she contemplated his request. Did he know who hurt her? Had one of her men told him? Deciding it didn't matter, Nicolas was her husband and if he wished to teach Alden manners, why not? “Agreed. Alden is yours to deal with. Meanwhile, I shall try to conduct myself like a proper lady.” Isabella smiled impishly, her eyes twinkling with barely suppressed humor.
Nicolas roughly pulled her in his embrace, powerful emotions filling him for his brave wife. “Thank you.” He kissed her sweet lips before releasing her. Taking her hand in his firm grip, they exited the room and entered the hallway.
A young knight named Henry awaited them. “Lady Alison won't be more than a moment.” Henry's open features near split in two in a wide grin as the aforementioned lady stepped from her chamber.
Alison transformed into a breathtakingly beautiful noblewoman. Under a gossamer white wimble, her wheat-colored hair was swept into an artful array of curls, her eyes softened to a bluish-gray. The altered ice blue silk gown complimented her fair coloring. Henry offered his arm to the blushing Alison.
"My lady, you honor us with your gracious beauty,” Henry gushed.
Nicolas raised his eyes to the ceiling in mock embarrassment. “I know naught where Henry gets his manners."
"I can very well imagine how Henry became so glib, especially with you as his tutor.” Isabella lifted her nose at a haughty angle.
He placed a lean, brown hand over his heart. “I swear I have only done my duty by Henry.” Nicolas tried to maintain an innocent pose as Isabella tossed him a doubtful look.
Amused by his antics, she sighed, admiring the black velvet tunic he wore, the infamous Red Dragon snarling, with claws unfurled, made impressive by the incredible width of his muscular chest. Drago was indeed breathtaking. Her thoughts turned to the steward who announced their presence. Apprehension slithered in the pit of her stomach upon entering the melee. Hundreds of overdressed nobles and schemers gathered in the great opulence of the dining chamber, waiting for dinner to be announced.
Alden casually sipped his wine, far from amused by his former mistress gowned in a fine dress and escorted by one of Drago's knights. His eyes hardened with cold fury at Isabella smiling smugly at him. She dared to mock him? Alden grew enraged when Isabella boldly winked at him. She had only to whisper his name to her new husband or the King and his head would be parted from his body in the flash of an axe. Calming down, Alden realized Isabella wished him to suffer. She will pay for her insolence, he vowed viciously.
His hostile gaze slid to Drago and he felt fear for the first time. The man's glare fixed on him, speaking volumes of the violence he wished to inflict on his person. Drago knew! The new baron must die if he was to claim Blood Keep and the frustrating Lady Isabella.
The blast of horns announced dinner was to be served. Isabella felt the hostility emanating from Alden as tangible as the whip he used on her. Revenge will be had for what he'd done to her. Her attention turned to the Lady Emma who awaited Nicolas to assist her to her seat. The woman smiled maliciously at Isabella who raised an eyebrow at her obvious tactics. Emma purred a breathless, ‘thank you’ and gracefully sat down.
Isabella unconsciously clutched the hilt of the dinner knife, glaring as the woman openly flirted with Nicolas. A hand grabbed hers, causing Isabella to whip her attention around to the offender, Alison.
"Remember, you are a lady. Emma is a widowed whore who is jealous of you because Drago is your husband,” Alison whispered frantically. Bloodshed was frowned upon at court, especially when women were shedding the blood!
Setting the knife down, Isabella took several cleansing breathes. “You are a true friend to me. Thank you.” In all her years the only women she ever counted on were Serenity and Aggie. Grateful to have Alison by her side, Isabella needed a friend more than ever if she wished to keep her dignity intact.
Alison's heart contracted painfully and squeezed Isabella's hand in reassurance. “I will be right by your side,” she swore in earnest. To hell with Alden and his sick schemes, she was in the protection of the Red Dragon. He would not allow her to be harmed. Determined, she met Alden's glare across the table, and for the first time, Alison looked him straight in the eye, unafraid.
Alden sat back in his chair, contemplating her defiance. Would she need to be taught a lesson, too? Leering at her, he thought of ways he would enjoy bringing Alison to new heights of pain as he took his pleasure upon her ripe body.
Servants placed huge platters of succulent roast pig, mutton, and various game birds of all shapes and sizes in differing sauces, followed by platters of fresh fruit and savory vegetables. There were many delights created from recipes from all over the world, most exotic and tempting. Nicolas felt as if he was caught in a spider's web and Emma the spider, seeking to make him her next victim. He glanced down at his wife, alarmed. Alison urged Isabella to release the dinner knife. Whatever the young woman whispered had worked and Isabella released it, once more calm. Acting demur, Isabella graciously accepted the food he placed on her plate as an immaculately dressed servant poured rich wine in the crystal glasses. She calmly sipped her wine and Nicolas felt certain she would be fine.
Emma leaned against Nicolas’ arm, an ample breast rubbed him inviting as she speared a piece of fruit off his plate. Sultry blue eyes smiled at him knowingly. Nicolas suddenly straightened from the contact. He scowled at Emma with a disapproving glance her way. She giggled, accepting a refill of her wine from a servant.
The game was afoot. Emma was confident Drago would be in her bed before the clock struck midnight.
Seething, Isabella focused on her plate, barely tasting the food. During the next hour her control over her temper stretched beyond normal limits as Emma played her games. To her ultimate relief, dinner was officially over and entertainment was introduced. Servants opened the grand double doors to a chamber of such magnificence with pale pink marbled floors and gold satin walls. The sheer length and height of the colored glass windows were breathtaking. Musicians began to play for couples wishing to dance.
Relieved dinner was over, Nicolas rose to usher his wife back to their chambers and make love to Isabella all night long. Fate was not on his side. The King hailed him, waving Nicolas to join him. He pr
essed a soft kiss on her parted lips. “I have not forgotten my promise to you. I fully intend to ravish you completely!” Nicolas leered wickedly at Isabella, winking at her, causing her to blush. Reluctant to leave her, he joined the other noblemen gathered around Edward.
Unable to hide the rush of pleasure his words gave her, Isabella allowed Alison to draw her away from the stewing Lady Emma. As they walked about the spacious hall, Isabella felt the fine hairs on her neck rise in warning. Seeking the cause, she found Alden glaring at them. Ignoring him, her attention diverted to several couples dancing to the sweet sounds of music being played.
A hand clamped down with a brutal force around Isabella's arm forcing her around to face a leering Alden. She checked the urge to slam her fist in his face. Glaring at the hated man, she seriously questioned Alden's obvious lack of intelligence in face of her cousin and husband not far away.
"Dance with me,” Alden ordered, dragging her further away from Alison who stared at them with fear in her eyes. He placed a rough hand on Isabella's back, slamming her hard against his lean body, dragging her along through the steps.
Wrathful eyes flashed pure emerald fire. She took hold of his hand and accepted his challenge. Alden's eyes flickered with surprise. How the hell could this woman be so strong? His face mottled red with the effort from not showing how much pain he was in. Instead, Alden spun her around the room in dance.
Isabella continued to smile pleasantly as if nothing was wrong, never easing the brutal pressure on his hand. “My lord, is something amiss?” she asked sweetly, batting her thick, black lashes innocently.
Baring his teeth, he tried to endure the bone-crushing grip. “Who the hell are you?” he hissed through clenched teeth, his high forehead beading with sweat.
She laughed gaily. “Your brother asked me the same question once.” Her eyes hardened to emerald ice, a snarl formed on her soft lips. “You'll figure it out soon enough,” Isabella promised and released him.
