Anice's Bargain

by Madeline Martin

  “Aye, and none of it was enough.” James dragged a hand through his hair and rubbed the back of his neck. “Why? Because I’m no’ as bonny as yer Drake? Because I’m too ugly and no’ good enough for ye?”

  Anice blinked. “Drake? Nay, he—”

  “Just like Morna.” James raked a hand through his hair again. “Ye’re just like Morna.”

  Anice threw down the leg of the chair. It thunked onto the cold, wet earth below. “Damn it, James. I don’t understand what you’re going on about. What I do know is that you are conspiring with your father to reclaim Werrick. To benefit from the fall of my family.” She closed the distance between them and glared up at him. “I did trust you. I did everything I could to be a good wife. And you betrayed me.”

  James stared at her in shock. Was it true? Of course, it had to be true. She couldn’t have known such information had she not discovered the plot. How had she found out? “Why Drake?” he demanded. “Why did ye leave with him?”

  “What would have happened to him if I left him behind?” Anice put her hands to her hips. “He’d be strung up on the gallows at best. I would never leave my father’s man behind to face such a fate.”

  “I wouldna have done that. Ye should know that.”

  “I thought I did.” Anice’s brow tightened in concentration. “But not now. Not when you’ve betrayed my family. Me.”

  James glanced toward the door to ensure the guard had not returned. Still, he lowered his voice. “I’m no’ working with my da. I’m only making him think I am.”

  Anice folded her arms over her chest, appearing to not believe him any more than he believed her.

  “It was the only way, Anice.” A door closed somewhere in the distance and echoed down the dank dungeon passage. James froze and listened, straining for the heavy fall of a guard’s steps. Hearing nothing, he continued on, almost in a whisper now.

  “If I tried to oppose my father, he would go around me, enlist the reivers who dinna join us to raze the new fields,” he said. “I worried he would hurt ye to spite me. This way, I kept ye safe. It was the only solution I could manage.”

  “And why didn’t you tell me?” Anice demanded. “I would have helped.”

  “Nay,” James replied sadly. “Ye would have tried to warn yer family.”

  She glanced down, not bothering to counter the claim.

  “If ye were caught, we would be found out,” he continued. “I had to do this on my own, aye? Ye know I’ve wanted peace for my people, that I want them to lead honest lives.”

  “I only know what you’ve said.” Her gaze shot back up to him, hard with wariness.

  “Aye, and I only know what ye’ve said.” He drew in a breath around the painful ache in his chest. “Ye and Drake have been close since I’ve known ye. It’s obvious he’s in love with ye, Anice. If ye dinna see it, ye’re blind.”

  Her mouth fell open. “That’s preposterous. He treats all my sisters with the same level of respect.”

  “Respect, aye, but no’ the same affection.” The anger was returning, pumping heat through his body and filling his mind with images of Anice and Drake, entwined and naked. “Do ye deny lusting after him as well?”

  “Aye, I deny it.” She glared up at him.

  “Do ye deny leaving me to be with him?”

  Her glare turned incredulous. “To be with him?”

  “Ye knew leaving would betray me,” he said. “Ye knew ye’d never see me again if ye succeeded.”

  To his surprise, her eyes filled with tears. She nodded. She pressed her lips together and swallowed. “It was a risk I had to take. But I…I hated that I had to leave you. You lied to me, James. You put my family in danger.”

  Before he could stop himself—before he let himself want to stop himself—he reached out for her and drew her to his chest. Anice put her face against him and her back shuddered with a sob.

  “This month has been one of so much joy, and I’ve been so happy.” She looked up at him, her lashes spiked from her tears. “I trusted you completely.”

  “And now?” He brushed his thumb over her cheek to wipe away a tear. “Will ye trust me now?”

  She continued to stare up at him, not speaking for long enough that he doubted that she ever could truly trust him again.

  26

  Anice hesitated in replying only because she knew that a ready answer would make her look like the fool. After such an incredible betrayal, she ought to be wary of his explanation about siding with his father rather than her. Except that everything in her drew toward trusting him again, reclaiming what had been briefly enjoyed and rapidly shattered.

  “Tell me about Morna,” she said.

  James shifted further from Anice. “Why?”

  “Because what happened between you was impactful.” Anice reached for him. “My scars have been laid bare for you and it’s helped you to understand who I truly am.”

  “Ye want to see my scars?”

  Anice frowned. She hadn’t meant it like that. “I want to avoid accidentally prodding them.”

  He nodded. “Aye, I thought I was in love once. It was a good while back, when I was barely older than a lad, back when I was too young to separate passion from love.” He shrugged casting a nonchalance to what was obviously a painful memory. “We were to be married. My da told me she was wrong for me, but I dinna listen. To be fair, my da doesna always have good advice.”

  James winked at Anice. “Except when it comes to marriage.”

  She couldn’t help the heat creeping over her cheeks. Even as she ought to appear cautious of trusting him again, she could not stymy her affection.

  “What happened?” Anice asked.

  James paced the short length of the cell. “I walked in on her in the stables with one of my da’s reivers.”

  Anice winced. “With? Do you mean—”

  “Aye.” James stopped and a muscle worked in his jaw.

  “You said I was like Morna.” Anice went to James. “How?”

  He slid her a side glance. “Because ye’re beautiful,” he said quietly.

  Anice shook her head, not understanding.

  “Morna was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen,” he replied.

  A stab of jealousy plunged deep into Anice’s chest.

  “I was young.” He began to pace again. “My experience with beautiful women was limited.” He gave her another wink.

  Small though the gesture was, it eased the prick of hurt in Anice’s chest.

  “But she was far too lovely for me.” James smirked. “I know I’m no’ a handsome man. Certainly no’ fine enough looking to warrant having such a bonny wife. It dinna bother me, though, no matter how many people told me.”

  Anice opened her mouth to protest, but James shook his head.

  “It dinna bother me until I realized Morna would flirt with other good-looking men.”

  “And the man she was with was one of them?” Anice asked.

  James nodded. “And now I’m married to ye.” He turned and faced her, his brows furrowed. “The most beautiful woman in the whole of England and Scotland combined. A woman far beyond me in all things: title, wealth, talent, and appearance.”

  Anice sucked in a breath. “James, nay.”

  He shook his head. “Ye are above me in every way, Anice.”

  “I have never once thought that.” She stepped toward him. “I find you to be the most handsome man in all the world.” She glided her hand over the powerful lines of his arm. “So strong.”

  “More so than Drake?” James prompted. “And Lord Clarion?”

  Anice stepped back at the name of her departed betrothed.

  James shook his head. “Forgive me. I shouldna have said that.”

  “I love Drake as one loves a brother,” Anice answered truthfully. “And nothing more. We have been friends since Marin’s husband first took Werrick. And Timothy…” She bit her lip and focused on the external pain rather than that within.

  James’s stare inten
sified and she realized he was bracing himself for her reply.

  “I never loved Timothy.” The awful truth of it burst forth from Anice. “He loved me. Fiercely. But I could never bring myself to return the sentiment. I agreed to his proposal of marriage to benefit my family. I used his affection.”

  Any anticipation at feeling lighter with the admission crashed into hard reality. The confession was as gentle as ripping a scab from a fresh wound.

  “Women dinna have a choice in yer position, Anice,” James said, his voice once softer in the way he often used with her.

  “I did have a choice. Father would never make me marry someone. But I had nothing to offer my family, except a profitable match.” Anice slid her gaze away, unable to look at James as she told him the ugliness of it all. “Marin did not wish to wed and instead ran the castle, seeing to us all. Ella is wonderfully smart and entertaining; Catriona’s skill with the bow is unrivaled; and Leila has the sight, in addition to being a fierce warrior at such a young age. I have only ever had my beauty to offer my family and used it most advantageously.”

  “Including with me,” James said.

  Anice slowly regarded her husband. “Aye, including with you, although I’m sure your father would have made you marry me even if I had a second nose.”

  James scoffed in apparent agreement.

  “It’s strange, isn’t it?” she asked. “How you have been working so very hard to prove I am more than my attractiveness, all while centering your focus on your own appearance. Do you think a man should be at my side only if he is fine-looking?”

  He grinned at that. “Ach, if ye wanted me at yer side to be fine-looking, I’d disappoint ye to be sure.”

  “Nay.” Anice closed the distance between them once more. “You would not.” She ran her hands up his broad chest, her palms tracing the ridges and swells of powerful muscle. A shiver of delight ran through her.

  “Anice.” His voice was low and intimate and made warmth pool in her stomach.

  She looked up slowly, infusing the glance with sensuality. “Hmmm?”

  His large hand cradled her face while his other secured her about the waist. “Will ye trust me?”

  “Aye, James.” She searched his hot gaze and saw only earnestness there. Earnestness and desire. “Aye, I will trust you.”

  “I was hoping ye’d say that,” he murmured. Then his mouth came down on hers, sealing their arrangement with a searing kiss.

  Anice returned his kiss with equal passion, needing this man she had almost lost. There was a wild hunger between them, drawn to near madness with a desperation to be close.

  While their previous joining hours ago had been tender and loving, now their hands shook with eagerness, their need so great they did not bother to undress. Skirts lifted, trews untied, a cold stone wall at Anice’s back and the heat of her lover thrusting hard and fast between her thighs.

  She clung to him as though she might lose him again and reveled in his warm familiar smell, the groan of his pleasure in her ear. It was over quickly and left their knees shaking with the aftereffects of such overwhelming desire.

  James put his damp forehead to hers. “I love ye, mo leannan.”

  Anice’s throat clogged with emotion. He said the words she had been feeling herself, and too afraid to say. Words she had been too heartbroken to hear earlier that eve. Now, at the cusp of war and death and loss, these words were being unveiled.

  “I love you too, James.” Anice nuzzled against the pleasant rasp of his whiskered jaw.

  He tightened his hold on her and the thud of his heart tapped harder against her palm where her hand rested. “We can prevent this war,” he said with finality. “But first, we’ll need a plan.”

  James would have lingered in the dungeon with Anice for a lifetime, had the reiver not returned and informed him Laird Graham wanted to see him.

  Leaving Anice in the dank cell had been as difficult as prying one’s own heart from their chest. Every step further echoed the injustice of it. Wrong, wrong, wrong.

  At least they’d had enough time for James to share the details of the Graham attack on Werrick, as well as his missive to Lord Bastionbury. As he’d not yet heard from Bastionbury, James had finally conceded that it would be best to help Drake to escape. While James still didn’t like the man, Drake was loyal and could warn Lord Werrick of the impending attack.

  If nothing else, Werrick could prepare.

  All too soon, James stood in front of the door to his father’s room. He pushed it open and found the old man slumped in a chair by the fire. Ill health left his face gray and slack, his eyes dull.

  In all of James’s life, he had never disobeyed his father; certainly, he had never betrayed him. Not when Laird Graham had knocked him around a bit as a boy, not when James had been berated time and time again in front of his fellow reivers to ensure all knew he was inferior to his father. Nor even when the laird had cackled over Morna’s betrayal and claimed to have already had her himself. Throughout a lifetime of cruelty and belittling, James had always been loyal.

  The idea of defying him had not rankled James in the least. Or rather, not until now, when the old man appeared so weak and fragile, mortality clawing at his back.

  Laird Graham lifted his head and belatedly regarded James with narrowed eyes. “Visiting with yer little slut, eh?”

  Any niggling guilt quickly evaporated on a wave of ire. Ill or no, James wanted to plant one firm blow right in the old man’s crinkled face.

  But it wouldn’t aid in the overall plan. Nay, James needed to act as though he’d been betrayed.

  Instead of punching his father, James slid into the chair opposite him and scoffed. “No’ mine. No’ anymore.”

  “The bonny ones always get ye, lad.” His father slapped James’s knee and laughed. Something in the old man’s skinny chest rattled. “Should we give her to the soldiers for a bit of sport? Fine lass like that…” His dull eyes went bright with lust.

  In James’s youth, he would never have been able to swallow down the rage building inside him. Now though, as an adult, after Bastionbury’s instruction and tutelage, James was able to do just that. A deep breath and the violent hammering of his pulse slowed to a manageable rhythm.

  “We can use her to get into Werrick,” James offered in a casual tone.

  Laird Graham curled his lips from his yellowing teeth. “Go on.”

  “Ye know the inside of Werrick, aye, but ye still canna penetrate its walls. If we use Anice as a prisoner and offer her in exchange for their gates opening, it’ll work.”

  Laird Graham grinned. “Dinna the bastard who married Werrick’s eldest daughter do exactly that?”

  James shrugged. “It worked for him.”

  In truth, the suggestion had come from Anice. James loathed the idea of her being involved, especially being used against her family. However, with Drake getting away early and informing Werrick of the plan, they would be ready. Anice would be safe. James would see to it himself.

  They would then implore the people following James’s father to return to Carlisle. Those who did would keep their cottages and land; those who did not would be forever banished. As a majority of the men had women and children at Carlisle, James was certain many would join him.

  It was not perhaps the strongest plan, but it was all they had.

  “I dinna like to use the same strategy as others.” Laird Graham rubbed the pad of his thumb over his grizzled chin. “But in this case, it may work verra well. Using his children against him to get what I want…” He nodded. “I like it.”

  Some of the tension eased from James’s shoulders. At least his father would be sensible and not throw Anice to his soldiers. Peers of the realm had no need for broken daughters, and Laird Graham was too daft to realize Lord Werrick was a father who would take his daughter back regardless.

  If only James had a more reliable army at his back, one that wasn’t full of his father’s clan members. If only he could get over the guilt that he
ld him back from killing his own father.

  So many regretful thoughts, and not one helped the situation.

  “And her lover…” Laird Graham leaned forward in the chair and lifted his bushy brows. “I say we kill him.”

  The idea certainly held appeal—James wouldn’t deny that. Anice might not be in love with the young man, but he certainly was in love with her. That alone ought to be enough to hang him by the neck.

  Not that it mattered since Drake would already be at Werrick once the reivers arrived at the castle.

  “Bring him along,” James said. “Then kill him as the first warning to Werrick.”

  James’s father nodded slowly. “Another fine idea from ye. For a lad wanting to poke about in the fields, ye’ve gotten damn good at strategy.”

  Indeed, he had.

  Laird Graham looked directly into James’s eyes. “I’m proud of ye, lad.”

  Words James had waited his entire life to hear. Except while once it would have plucked a chord deep in his soul, the praise now fell dull and unwanted after the years of disappointment.

  His father was unaware of James’s reaction and lifted his chin, quite pleased with himself on having bestowed such a rare compliment on his son. “Go on.” Laird Graham jerked his head to the door, a clan chief dismissing his subject.

  James rose from the chair and strode from the room. Once night fell again, he would see to freeing Drake from the dungeon. In the meantime, James needed to get a new missive off to Lord Bastionbury with the change of plans.

  Through it all, he had to take the utmost care not to be caught, for he knew if he did, Anice would pay with her life.

  27

  James wasted no time making his way to the dungeon once more. While he tried not to think of Anice, his mind constantly wandered back to her, recalling the dank, dark room.

  He stopped in front of the cell, the only one filled on the eastern side of the dungeon. Its western side stood opposite a massive stone staircase that bisected the great dungeon into two large chambers of cells.