Defiant

by Jessica Trapp

  “Let me go,” she demanded.

  “Nay.”

  “You leave me no choice,” she whispered. Tamping down her guilt, Gwyneth pointed at Jared and called to her brother-in-law, who sat regally atop a tall black mount. “Arrest this man!”

  Incredulous, Jared gaped at his wife, who was now flapping her arms frantically in the air. Of all the faithless, underhanded things!

  “I’ve been kidnapped!” she called.

  The lying little wench. And he had felt tender toward her only moments earlier!

  “God save us from female treachery,” he muttered. Drawing the dagger from his belt, he buried his hand in her hair and set the blade against her neck. Her pulse pounded, making her alabaster skin jump.

  “Help me!” she yelled. “This man is holding me captive!”

  “Silence,” he gritted out, wanting to kick himself for ever feeling any softness toward her. Long ago he had learned that women were faithless and untrustworthy—especially those who were clever or beautiful—and Gwyneth of Windrose was both.

  “Explain yourself!” the tall warrior on the black warhorse demanded.

  “I’ve been stolen!” Gwyneth interjected.

  “'Tis untrue, my lord,” Jared started, intending to talk his way out of the situation.

  “He—”

  He clamped his hand over her mouth and pressed the blade threateningly against her skin.

  Gwyneth closed her lips. But he could still see the gleam of victory shining in her eyes as she stared at the riders. Without the monk to verify his story, he knew he looked guilty despite this scenario being all her fault. His original instinct to take her straight to the town stocks had been right on target. Once he had dealt with the riders, he would follow his initial plan to make her his personal servant for the rest of her life.

  “The woman captured me from—”

  The leader guffawed. “Of all the beef-witted excuses. Get away from her. ”

  The rising sun, orange and round, glinted off their horses’ flanks. There were four in all: the tall leader who wore a hood, a shorter man with silver spurs, one who appeared to be his squire, and Irma, who rode behind the squire.

  Irma! Another betraying woman. The harlot rode very stiffly, bouncing like a rigid plank and looking somewhat terrified, as if she might tumble from her mount at any moment. Her toes were curled, her yellow scarf hung askew, and Jared suspected that she’d never been atop a horse afore.

  Except for Irma, all were heavily armed with swords and daggers. One even carried a crossbow.

  They crowded toward the cave’s entrance.

  Gwyneth tried to bite his fingers.

  Jared clamped his hand harder over her mouth and yanked her close to him so he could use her as a hostage.

  Her cry died in her throat and a shudder ran through her. Good.

  He sized up the men. Fighting three at once, especially one as large as the leader, would be difficult, but he had done such afore.

  Tautness formed under Jared’s shoulder blades.

  “I know how this looks, my lord. Allow me to explain.”

  Gwyneth squirmed, trying to wriggle his palm from her mouth.

  “Be still. You will not get away with this,” he whispered into her hair. Lavender and innocence assailed his nostrils.

  A pox on women! Was there nothing about them that was truthful and honest? She should have smelled like something as rotted as her conscience, but even her scent was deceptive.

  “Away from her,” one of the men called, drawing a long, wicked-looking knife.

  “Harm her, and you will die.”

  Jared braced his legs wide apart, readying himself for battle as he tilted her head farther to one side. “The woman is mine. Do not come closer.”

  “Jared?” the leader asked, a baffled tone coming into his voice. His hood slid off his head, revealing the dark features and brilliant cobalt eyes of James Vaughn.

  James?

  Jared blinked, not believing his eyes.

  In their younger, wilder days, the two of them had ridden the high seas together. Jared had been fighting the demon of Colette’s memory and he suspected James was fighting something as well. Both of them had been too drunk to get around to telling their stories to each other, but there had been an instant connection between the two men.

  “James? What the devil?” He didn’t release Gwyneth. Likely this was some new womanly trick of hers. Had James been in love with her? Her beauty was such that she had only to toss her pretty head and men would be willing to race to their deaths for her.

  “Jared!” James called.

  Gwyneth shuddered. Wide-eyed, she glanced from one man to the other. Not a trick then, perhaps. She seemed genuinely surprised that the two of them knew each other.

  Unsure of his old friend’s relationship with her, Jared braced himself. She was his and he would not release her.

  The other two looked back and forth at each other, clearly unsure what to make of this new development. Jared did not know what to make of it either.

  “What are you doing here?” James urged his majestic black stallion forward. He didn’t smile.

  “I could ask you the same,” called Jared, trying to assess their relationship. Was there longing in Montgomery’s eyes? Jealousy? If he took the knife from Gwyneth’s neck, would his friend embrace him or kill him on the spot? He could not tell.

  “I’m here to"—he gazed from Gwyneth to Jared and back again with a hard stare—"rescue my sister-in-law from her own folly.”

  “My new wife, Gwyneth, is your sister-in-law?” Of all the bedlamite things. He pushed aside the sharp sense of relief that Gwyneth and James were not betrothed.

  “Aye.” James let out a bark of laughter. His horse twitched its tail restlessly. “You married Gwyneth?”

  The mocking way he asked sent a shot of indignation through Jared. “Aye.”

  James’s gaze raked over Gwyneth. “What evil deed did you do to deserve that punishment?”

  Unbidden, anger washed over Jared—the same as he had felt years ago when Rafe had been disrespectful to her. He released her mouth and glared at his former friend.

  James pointed at Gwyneth. “No man in his right mind would want her for a wife.”

  “I have had dozens of offers for marriage,” Gwyneth said defensively.

  “And you’ve spurned all of them,” James said, placing one hand on his hip while holding the reins with the other.

  She lifted her chin, but pinkness tinged her cheeks. Embarrassment?

  “I want her as a wife,” Jared interjected, coming inexplicably to Gwyneth’s defense before James could make another mocking laugh.

  James looked pointedly at the knife that Jared held at Gwyneth’s neck. “So you kidnapped her?”

  “I want no husband at all!” Gwyneth said afore Jared could answer the charge. He felt her quiver against his chest. “Release me.”

  James gave Gwyneth a scornful glance. “No matter my personal feelings, I am here to protect my sister-in-law. Step away from her. ”

  Jared felt her body sag against him as she let out a sigh of relief.

  “Best to do as he says. “ The smirk was back in her voice.

  So much for defending her, he thought sourly. Women were a treacherous lot, to be sure.

  He gazed from his old friend to his wife and tightened his grip on the knife. The need to conquer snapped through him like a whip.

  “The woman is mine,” he growled. “She wanted me so much that she stole me from The Bald Cock. ”

  Mortification poured through Gwyneth, and her palm itched to cover his mouth—only she could not move so long as he held a knife to her throat. Her neck ached from Jared’s hold, and her body felt stiff from yesterday’s events.

  “I didn’t want you. I want no man.”

  “You did not mind sleeping near me last night.”

  One of Montgomery’s men moved forward. Finally. At last they would stop their gawking and see to getting
her free from this situation.

  She cringed as she felt Jared’s hand tighten on the dagger at her neck. She wrapped her hands around his wrist. The crisp hair on his forearm tickled her palms. Her little finger throbbed from where the attacker had twisted it in the alley yesterday. The man Jared had rescued her from.

  “Do not be beef-witted,” she hissed. “If you kill me, you will never get away from here alive.”

  In answer, Jared turned both of their bodies until his back was fully protected by the wall of the keep and she was spun around to face him. The hard, flat blade of the knife pressed against her back and his hand fisted in her hair.

  Gooseflesh popped up on her legs. “Cease!”

  His green eyes flashed and her head was forced back at an angle that made it difficult to swallow. Giving a warning look at Irma and James, forbidding them to move forward, his lips crashed down on hers. Claiming her.

  “Wha—” she tried to say, but his mouth dominated hers in a punishing bid for possession. The world swirled under her feet as her reality tilted. He wanted to kiss her?

  She tensed, then willed herself to relax as she realized he would do naught to harm her. The instant she softened, so did Jared. His lips became tender against hers, gentle even. Deep inside, low in her belly, sensation stirred. A wanting.

  Of its own accord, her body seemed to press closer to him, enjoying the feeling of being his. As if she knew by some primal instinct that he didn’t intend to hurt her.

  She jumped back, startled by her emotions, startled by her own actions. Jared didn’t stop her from pushing slightly away from him, though his fist still held in her long hair.

  Blushing furiously, angry with herself for responding at all to Jared’s kiss—how could she!—she faced her brother-in-law. Montgomery was scrutinizing her with a disapproving look. She unfocused her eyes, too mortified to even glance at Irma. Irma didn’t kiss men. Ever.

  Jared laughed.

  He knew! Knew she had been affected by his lips. The dagger was slack in his hand, no longer pressing against her back, and she realized it had been a show, a proof that she belonged to him.

  Faith, how could her body betray her thus?

  “I hate you,” she hissed.

  “For certes,” he said drolly. “And you are still mine. As wife or hostage.”

  Horrified, she turned to Montgomery, wishing she could somehow run and hide. She tried to bring her hands up to hide her stinging, swollen lips from the damning gazes of the small crowd, but Jared forced her hands downward, caught like a bug on a string. How could she have surrendered to a kiss? Had she no wits at all? She didn’t even like the man!

  “You chose me,” Jared reminded her.

  Irked at his high-handed arrogance, she longed to reach for the dagger, to try to turn it against him.

  The fire in Montgomery’s blue eyes bespoke ill tiding. As if he was ready to slay them both. “The harlot"—he pointed at Irma—"says that you stole my sister-in-law from a brothel.”

  “'Tis true,” Gwyneth rushed out before Jared could speak. “I went to visit my friend and this man kidnapped me.”

  Jared’s green eyes flashed at the lie. “The two women drugged me—”

  At that moment another man rode forward, this one with a foppish hat and long, pointed shoes. Unlike Irma, he was a good rider. A long, thin sword hung at his belt.

  “Release my bride!” he yelled. “That woman is my wife.”

  Chapter 13

  “Ivan?” Gwyneth gasped.

  She knew him vaguely but had not seen him in years. He was the younger son of a wealthy lord who had holdings in the north. In her rare dealings with him, she had thought him to be prissy and silly, but his list of victories in dueling and on the tournament field was well known. He was quick and skilled with a sword and the bards often sang of his accomplishments.

  “The woman is mine.” Ivan pointed boldly at her.

  Not another man laying claim on her!

  “The documents were signed.” He slanted a glare at Montgomery and pulled at the feather on his cap.

  Behind her, she felt Jared tense. Heat from his body filtered through her gown.

  Quickly, she sized up Ivan, trying to fathom how to twist this new situation to her advantage. He was lean and not nearly as thick as Jared, but he had square shoulders and hardness in his limbs. He rode skillfully, he and his horse moving as one.

  Jared’s hand tightened on the knife

  In contrast to his frilly clothing, Ivan’s face was alight with fierce determination.

  “Gwyneth, fair Gwyneth, I will rescue you from this beast who has taken you from my arms.”

  Taken you from my arms? Until this moment she had had no idea whom it was she was to be married to. She barely remembered him!

  Jared growled, a primal and barbaric sound. His arm tightened around her rib cage. She could feel every intake and exhale of his breath.

  Still … she needed a champion—'twas obvious that Montgomery would not help her—and here God provided her with one. Surely ‘twas divine intervention.

  Hope sprang inside her. She would be relieved of one man at a time. After Jared was soundly defeated, then she would find a way to get rid of Ivan. Simple as that.

  “My beauteous love,” he rambled on, “you are even more wondrous than I remembered.” He gazed at her with moon-faced puppy love.

  She resisted the urge to roll her eyes at his ridiculous fodder. What idiocy. Mayhap Jared was the lesser of two evils after all.

  “My Gwyneth—”

  “Nay,” Jared said quietly, “The woman is mine. She forced me to marry her, and we will stay married.” The firm resolve in his voice sent a shiver of foreboding up Gwyneth’s spine. ‘Twas as if he planned some horrible life of shame for her.

  A knot formed under her shoulder blades. She had no choice but to use Ivan. “I will be free of you,” she breathed. No matter what she had to do.

  Evening sunlight glinted off the hilt of Ivan’s blade, reassuring her that despite his foppish manner, he was equipped to fight.

  Once Jared was sent away, the marriage would be annulled and she would live a life of independence and freedom. Elizabeth could be rescued. And Elfreda. Her women would be safe.

  “Ivan—”

  Jared’s arm tightened around her ribs, but the knife did not bite into her.

  “Go away, boy,” Jared said, his voice a challenge. “We were married at the church near the hatter’s shop. Find the monk if you need proof, but see here.” He reached inside his pouch and produced the ripped sheet with the dark stain of blood on it.

  “Nay! “ Gwyneth tried to pull away from him. “The wedding was illegal. I was forced. The church will not honor it.”

  Lifting a brow, Montgomery turned to Irma. “Well?”

  “I spoke truth, my lord. Jared kidnapped Gwyneth from the brothel.” Irma clutched her yellow shawl around her shoulders with white knuckles, but when she spoke her voice was calm, as if spinning tales came second nature to her.

  “The brothel?” Ivan echoed, an incredulous look on his face. His long pointed shoes stirred up leaves as he turned this way and that to look at different people.

  “The harlot lies,” Jared asserted. “Ask her why Gwyneth was at the brothel.”

  Gwyneth sucked in a breath. No noblewoman would set foot in a whorehouse, much less go there as often as she did. If Ivan spurned her, Montgomery would have a reason to leave her here with Jared.

  For the rest of her life.

  Quickly, she put on a slight pout and licked her lips in a way she knew looked both innocent and seductive. As expected, Ivan’s gaze rested on her mouth. It was too easy.

  “I was merely walking …” She rolled one of her shoulders slightly in a discreet but suggestive manner.

  “Stop wiggling,” Jared said in a low voice, then louder: “No decent woman would go for a casual walk in that area of town. Especially not without an escort. She is guilty. ”

  “I was bringin
g a potion to the sick child of a woman who cannot afford to go to the apothecary herself,” Gwyneth finished. She put on a pleading, innocent look for good measure. Most “sins” such as being alone in the wrong area could be forgiven if a child was involved and she was acting altruistically. It was a story Irma and she had planned for times such as this and she had visited the sick and brought medicine to families in the area. That part at least was not a lie. “Asides, I was not alone. Brother Giffard, a man of God, was with me.”

  Jared’s nostrils flared. The muscles of his thighs tensed.

  She turned her face to Ivan’s so that she didn’t have to look at him. So it would be easier to lie.

  Ivan beamed at her, clearly taken in by her assertions. She tamped down her guilt at allowing him to think that she was some sort of virtuous woman. That she wasn’t just using him.

  “Jared attacked us, forced us into the church, and threatened the monk to marry us without banns being read. The wedding is not valid.”

  Jared growled. “You lying little hoyden,” he gritted out. He turned to Montgomery. “Surely you do not believe this woman’s lies.”

  Montgomery had a look of scorn on his face. His hands flexed on the reins as if he were planning to wheel the black stallion around and ride home without her. Saints! Somehow she had to get him to take her back to Windrose, to her home. Despite the lack of banns, the court would see the marriage as valid if Jared was with her for any length of time.

  Ivan pushed his feathered cap off his forehead and glowered at Jared. “I demand you release my bride.”

  “Your bride no longer.” Jared’s arm was a steel band around her body and she could feel the steady thumping of his heart against her own.

  Ivan puffed his chest out in a way that reminded her of a peacock and faced Montgomery. “Make him release her. We have signed a contract.”

  It seemed that even the frogs had stopped chirping. Jared’s hawk was also silent. Montgomery didn’t take her part, but he didn’t make any sign of sending his men in to attack Jared, either.

  Ivan urged his horse forward. The long points of his shoes wobbled.

  Gwyneth trained her face to appear innocent and not show any sign of victory, but in her heart she felt relief that she would have a champion after all.