Borderland Bride

by Samantha Holt

  “Will you tell me about yourself now, Isabel?”

  She blinked at him. “There is naught to tell. You know me.”

  “I know you, but I know naught about you. Where do you come from? You are from the south, that much is clear.”

  She frowned.

  “Your accent gives you away, lass.”

  “Aye, I’m from the south,” she admitted reluctantly.

  “And what of your family?”

  “Jake, can we not…I will tell you all, I promise. Just not this night. I would not see it ruined.”

  Considering her for a moment, he nodded. He did not wish to see her saddened. Whatever had happened to her family must have been grave indeed for her to end up in the borderlands alone.

  He grinned. “As long as you do not have an angry husband waiting for you at home.”

  Her expression flickered but the emotion was gone before he could place it and she chuckled.

  “Nay, no angry husband.” She glanced around at the dancers, who were steadily becoming more rowdy. “I am tired. Will you not escort me to my chambers?”

  Searching for Dominic, he found him surrounded by lasses. Aye, he would not note their absence.

  “As you will.”

  They stepped outside and Isabel paused, drawing in a deep breath. She grabbed his hand and dragged him past the chapel and into the outer ward. Jake stared up at the flickering torches on the curtain wall and then back to the woman who held his heart.

  “What are you doing, lass?”

  Isabel grinned mischievously and dragged him further round until they were at the rear of the keep. Sounds of revelry echoed into the night as she tugged him towards the shadows.

  Pressing herself against the stone, Isabel gazed up at him, her features just visible in the cold illumination of the night. His heart juddered as she coaxed him forward, urging him to press himself into her.

  His legs moved of their own accord until his body aligned with her sweet, slender curves. Jake hardened instantly and Isabel gasped, informing him that it had not passed her notice. With a muttered curse, he descended upon her, capturing her lips beneath his.

  Jake could feel her tremble as he brought his hands around her waist. He tasted her with fervour as her tongue played provocatively against his and she gave out little whimpers, causing his chest to constrict.

  Desperate hunger pitched through him and he seized her hips as he pushed against her. Her hands twisted and twined forcefully in his hair and his breath hissed through his teeth as she thrust her breasts against him.

  A clatter sounded above them and they both froze as Jake twisted to see one of the watchmen making his way across the wall.

  Pressing his lips to her ear, he whispered, “Shhh.” as he covered her body with his and pinned her back against the wall.

  The watchman strode by and they both sagged.

  “I cannot control myself around you, lass. You need to go to bed before I do something I regret.”

  “Why would you regret it?” Isabel asked with a mischievous glint in her eyes as her fingers played over the taut skin of his arm.

  “Do not tempt me. I’ll not dishonour you again.”

  “You do not dishonour me, Jake.”

  “I made a vow…” He reached to stroke his hand over her shoulder but dropped it and clenched his fist by his side. “On the morrow…”

  Isabel shoved playfully at his chest and threw her hands up as she slipped past him. “Lord, all this talk of the morrow!” She paused and tilted her head, studying him. “To bed it is then. Alone.”

  Trying to ignore the stab of disappointment that arced through him, he followed after her swaying hips. Damn woman was going to be the death of him.

  Jake scowled as they reached the bottom of the stairs. He had travelled up and down these steps many a time recently and not thought twice about it, but now it seemed inappropriate. His loins stirred. Very inappropriate. He darted a look around to see if anyone had spotted them.

  “Jake, no one will notice. Besides, you have spent time enough in my chambers recently.”

  “You are a wicked lass. I’ll escort you to your chambers but naught more.”

  Isabel gazed up at him from under her lashes and tilted her lips. “If you say so, my lord.”

  Following her up, Jake eyed her bottom as she sashayed up the steps. Biting back a groan, he focused on putting one foot in front of the other.

  Isabel pushed the door open and stepped inside while Jake remained on the threshold, his muscles bunched with restraint.

  Facing him, Isabel swept her gaze over his tense body, her lips curving upwards. “You are a stubborn man, Jake of Thornewall.”

  “Aye, just as you are a stubborn lassie but I will not be swayed from this. I will do right by you, Isabel.”

  A crease marred her forehead as she released a barely perceivable sigh. “I wish to do right by you too. Will you remember that? Whatever happens?”

  He gave a bemused laugh. “There is little you could do wrong, lass.”

  She didn’t answer. Instead, a tenuous look filled her blue eyes as she came up onto her tiptoes and skimmed a kiss across his lips.

  “Good night,” she murmured against his mouth.

  With a gulp, Jake drew back. He studied her expression carefully but Isabel gave nothing away. It struck him as odd that he couldn’t read her. “Until the morrow then.”

  Chapter Seven

  Observing Jake as he sparred with some of the soldiers in the bailey, Isabel’s body heated. For a large man, he moved with a surprising amount of grace but he was ruthless and cut his opponents down with ease. She did not envy any man who came across him in the battlefield. He was the perfect solider.

  The perfect man.

  He flicked a glance at her and gave her a grin as he pushed back his opponent with his wooden waster. A shudder ran through her as she eyed his bulging arms. Her lover’s arms.

  Isabel covered her mouth with her hand in an attempt to conceal the slow, satisfied smile that spread across her face.

  When they had finished weapons practice, Jake strode over to her, wiping his forehead on his shirtsleeve as he approached. Her stomach churned. She would have to tell him. Today.

  “Good morrow, Isabel.”

  “Good morrow.”

  “May I speak with you?” Jake glanced around and edged closer. “Alone?”

  Isabel bit at her lip and nodded. “Shall you escort me to my chambers?”

  “I’d better not. Will you come to the chapel with me? ‘Twill be empty at this time of day.”

  “Aye, of course. Though you have visited my chambers plenty enough, Jake. I doubt anyone will pay any attention.”

  “Be that as it may, I cannot trust myself in your chambers.” He secured her with his gaze and lowered his voice. “Not now I know of the beautiful body that lies underneath that gown.”

  “Jake! You are wicked.” Isabel couldn’t resist a laugh as her cheeks heated.

  “Aye, ‘tis all your fault.”

  She swatted playfully at his arm as they strolled toward the chapel. Jake held the door open and ushered her through. Looking around, Isabel was relieved to see it was indeed empty. A warm hand came upon her back, and Jake manoeuvred her in the direction of one of the window recesses.

  Opening her mouth to speak, Isabel found her words cut off as Jake grabbed at her arms and pressed his lips down upon hers. She clung eagerly to him as her lips opened beneath his and his tongue gained access. They kissed until she was breathless. Lord, what an effect this man had on her!

  Jake drew back slowly, eyeing her lips with a predatory glint. “I have wanted to do that all morning.”

  “Me too.”

  “Isabel. I…” Jake turned and ran a hand through his hair. “There is something I must ask y—”

  “Wait. I must tell you something first—”

  A rattle from outside drew their attention and they both turned to peer through the cloudy glass. The clatter of hoove
s sounded as a large group of men-at-arms made their way across the drawbridge and assembled in the barbican.

  Nausea welled up inside of Isabel as she studied the gathering. Her father’s colours!

  And there he was, making his way through the men on his black destrier. He held himself tall, the mark of a proud man, and his thick white hair distinguished him from those surrounding him, causing him to stand out in stark contrast to the battle-worn knights that accompanied him.

  They were indeed battle-worn men. Her father’s greed knew no bounds and Isabel could remember few times when they were not fighting with neighbouring lands for power and control. She had grown up in the knowledge that she would one day be a pawn in his power-games, her entire childhood spent preparing her for an advantageous marriage.

  She brought a hand up to her mouth. “Oh God.”

  Jake looked at her with concern, drawing her hand from her mouth and gripping it gently. “What is it, lass? What troubles you?”

  “Pray don’t let him take me. Swear you won’t let him take me.”

  “Who?”

  She gulped. It was likely her world was just about to crumble away. “My father.”

  His brow furrowed as his eyes widened. “Your father? Isabel, you said—”

  “I lied.”

  Jake jolted at the word as if it had physically pained him. The light in his eyes dimmed. “Why would you lie, Isabel?”

  She took a deep breath. She would lie to him no more. “I ran away. My father wanted…that is…I was to be married. But my betrothed is a vicious, cruel man. I could not let myself be given to such a man.”

  “Your betrothed…?” His voice came out strangled.

  “Aye,” she confirmed, lowering her eyes, unable to bear the sorrow written on his face. If she had merely confessed all, she would never have caused such hurt. Lord, what a fool she was.

  They stood in silence, watching her father’s men assemble as Dominic strode over to greet them. How had he known she was here? But she was aware gossip travelled fast and it would not have been long until word of a strange auburn haired woman with no family had spread. She should have known she couldn’t hide forever but her feelings for Jake had drowned out her good sense.

  And now she had hurt him. It didn’t matter that her lies were to protect herself. All that mattered was she had deceived him, proving herself to be no better than his wife.

  “Stay here,” he ordered her gruffly, not meeting her eyes. “I will see to this.”

  Isabel’s chest ached and tears burnt in her eyes as she nodded numbly. He would not let someone take her against her will, she realised that, but it was no longer someone taking her that she feared. It was that she had lost his esteem, and with that, his love. Would he ever trust her again or was the damage she had rendered irreparable?

  He stomped away, slamming the door behind him and Isabel recognised the anger he had spoken of before but never witnessed. It was a deep, consuming anger, one borne of mistrust and doubt. She had forced him to doubt himself once more. Things would never be the same again.

  Isabel’s hands trembled as she rested them on the cool stone and peered through the glass. Her father dismounted and she recognised his stance as one of aggression. She watched as he gestured angrily at Dominic, who stood with his arms across his chest.

  How could she have brought this onto Thornewall’s doorstep? She had never met such kind-hearted people and Dominic had enough to deal with as it was. Now her father would probably be threatening war for kidnapping his daughter.

  But she’d had no choice…had she? Her betrothed, Lord Everard, was a cold man and not known for his sympathy towards anyone. He had already buried two wives and she suspected she would have eventually ended up joining them in the grave. There was tale of disfigured whores and villeins disappearing, all having displeased him in some way. Isabel did not take the gossip to heart until she finally met him, and one look in his eyes had convinced her every word was true.

  His stone eyes had trailed a path over her body, taking in every fragment of her with a malicious light. His tongue had darted out and she had shuddered. This reaction did not pass his notice and he grinned, a sly devious smile.

  From then on, he delighted in tormenting her, whispering tales of what he would do to her when she was in his bed. His desires were depraved and they turned her stomach. Isabel’s pleas to her father went ignored. He had spent too long trying to arrange an advantageous marriage and, in his eyes, she was too old to wait any longer.

  It was after the announcement of the banns that Isabel gained the courage to run. Lord Everard had approached her that eve, as she passed by on her way to her chambers, and murmured his salacious words in her ear as he pressed her against the wall. His hands had come about her bodice and he ignored her protests as he made to free her breasts before thrusting his tongue into her unwilling mouth.

  Before he could go any further, she thrust a knee into his groin, forcing him double, and escaped to her room, locking herself in. That night, she had fled her father’s keep, taking her mother’s precious jewels, and beginning the arduous journey to the north. Sleeping in convents and peasant’s homes, she had become confident she would be able to forge a new life for herself in Scotland, where her father had no influence. Isabel hoped she would be able to find work as a maid or some other job. She cared not if it was beneath her station, anything was better than marrying Lord Everard.

  She had been scared - terrified at times - but always had she found an inner strength and a determination to continue on. A characteristic she knew she had gained from her strong-willed mother who had died when she was seven. Poor Mama, married to a man like her father. She had deserved better.

  Having battled her way across many miles and surviving at the hands of murderous outlaws, she was now cowering in a tower, hiding behind the protection of two of the most honourable men she had ever met.

  Isabel considered herself with disgust. Nay, she would not hide behind them as a coward. For too long, she had depended on the kindness of these men. She would stand up to her father and prove to him, and herself, she was strong enough to stand on her own. No man could force her hand.

  ~* * *~

  Anger swirled through Jake’s veins as he stormed across the courtyard. He darted a glance over the gathering of men her father had brought with him. The men’s fingers twitched on their pommels and he suspected he and his brother were likely on the verge of war with a man they knew nothing of.

  Her betrothed! And to think how close he had come to… Hell’s teeth, but his heart hurt. She was no better than his wife, he thought bitterly. More lies, more deception, and he had fell for it like the fool that he was.

  It shattered him to think the woman he thought of as so forthright, so brave, was hiding behind her cowardly lies. Her betrayal was far worse than that of his wife’s. He had not loved his wife.

  James caught his eye and motioned to the Great Hall, indicating her father was there. Dominic was likely dealing with him in his usual diplomatic way. Jake feared his anger was too great but he could not leave his brother to deal with the aftermath of Isabel’s lies on his own. It was he who brought her to Thornewall, so it was he who should resolve the situation.

  He could not let him take her. Jake had observed the fear in her eyes and no matter what he felt about her, he could not put her in the hands of someone who would harm her.

  His boots echoed across the floor of the Great Hall as he made his way to his brother’s side. He recognised Dominic’s defensive posture and concluded negotiations were not going well.

  Dominic turned to him. “Good day, Brother. This is Lord Henry, Isabel’s father,” he added with a raise of his eyebrows.

  “I know,” he ground out before turning his attention to the older man.

  For an aged lord, he was tall and well built. Not as tall as he, but he would tower over most men. Thick white hair surrounded lined eyes that took in everything in one glance.

  “You
cannot hold my daughter here. I will ask that you return her to me. My men and I will be on our way and Thornewall will be left at peace.”

  Dominic looked to his brother and Jake carefully shook his head.

  “My lord, Lady Isabel has sought sanctuary with us. She is under my care and I will see her right. Should she not wish to return to you, then I have little choice but to accept her decision.” Dominic eyed Lord Henry coolly.

  Henry gritted his teeth, his nostrils flaring. “You cannot just hold my daughter here. She is mine!”

  “Nay, Father,” a feminine voice interrupted. “I am no one’s and I will not return with you.”

  All eyes turned to Isabel, who carried herself in with her head held high. She positioned herself just in front of Dominic and Jake, and Jake thrust aside the pride that swelled inside of him.

  “You, girl, are more trouble than you’re worth. Lord Everard is most displeased and is threatening to call off the marriage.”

  “Then let him, Father, for I shall not marry that man.”

  “You shall do as I say!”

  Lord Henry reached out to grab at her arm but she stepped back and Jake fought the urge to throw the man to the floor. Dominic put a calming hand to his arm, beseeching him to keep his wits about him.

  “Lord Everard is naught but a murderous, God-forsaken man. You would ask your only daughter to endure his beatings and barbaric behaviour for the sakes of power?”

  Her father sniffed dismissively. “A man is well within his rights to discipline his wife.”

  Jake growled but before he could say anything, Dominic stepped forward, angling himself in front of Isabel.

  “And his daughter?” he asked him archly.

  Lord Henry skimmed his eyes over Dominic in distaste. “How I discipline my daughter is of no concern of yours.”

  “My lord, I shall make it plain to you. Your daughter will not be returning with you. I have no care for men that harm women and shall see Lady Isabel in neither yours nor Lord Everard’s hands. Should you take issue with this, then you may petition the king, but I assure you that his ears are unlikely to be taken with your snake-like words and that my reputation with him far exceeds yours.”