Vow of Deception. Angela JohnsonЧитать онлайн книгу.
and still during this exchange. Now he turned to her. “My lady, I know this is very sudden, but I promise I shall give you no cause to regret marrying me.” His voice grew gruff. “My precious wife died giving birth to a stillborn son a year ago. If you would allow it, I’d be proud to raise your son, Jason, as if he were my own blood.”
The man spoke eloquently, yet…She’d felt a subtle sinister air of speculation swirling around the knight at supper concerning his wife’s death. Now the king wished to shackle her to this man, this stranger? She tried to read de Coucy’s face. He had a smooth, wide forehead, straight eyebrows over a pair of wide-set, nearly black eyes, a long narrow nose that curved slightly to the right, and a shallow cleft in his chin. It was impossible to glean anything from his dark, impenetrable eyes.
Edward handed his chalice to the servant, stepped down from his throne, and approached them. He clasped his hand on Golan’s shoulder. “’Tis a most gracious pledge, Sir Golan.” The king turned his gaze on Rose and cocked his head. “You can have no better knight as husband and stepfather to your son.”
She chose her words carefully. “Sir Golan, I am overwhelmed. Jason would be fortunate to have such a noble influence in his life.”
The king laughed heartily. “You shall make a fine match. Indeed, I do not doubt that before long you shall be busy producing heirs to carry on the proud de Coucy lineage.”
A cold sensation slithered across Rose’s flesh and tentacles of fear took root. Her face paling, Rose mumbled a response. Golan’s intense dark gaze held hers. His smile was firmly in place, but his eyes reflected…what? Pride, offense, indignation?
Finally dismissed, Rose hurriedly returned to her chamber. Thoughts and emotions roiled inside her like a violent storm at sea, making her sick with worry, fear, and indecision. She did not know how she was going to survive being forced to lie beneath Sir Golan as he violated her body, no matter that it was considered her conjugal duty to submit willingly to her husband.
Elena’s warm breath bathed Rand’s chest as she fell into a deep sleep. Rand slowly lifted her hand from his chest and slid off the bed. He padded across the rough floorboards, plucking up his clothes as he moved toward the fireplace, the blaze now extinguished. After piling his garments on the settle, he dressed as swiftly as he could.
Chagrin filled him as he skulked out of Elena’s town house, retrieved Leviathan from the stable, and made his way back to the castle.
He was uneasy. His head was hazy with drink, and dissatisfaction consumed him. The usual relief he achieved upon gratifying his carnal needs eluded him tonight. He felt empty and more alone than he ever had before. Usually he could stave off the feeling with various duties performed for the king, and by overseeing his thriving wine-trading business.
But neither gave him a sense of fulfillment as they had in the past.
Rand called out to the palace guard at the gate. In the stable yard, he dismounted and led Leviathan into the vaulted, wide-aisled structure. There were thirty stalls on each side of the aisle and a sliver of moonlight shone into the darkened building through a high round window above the stable door.
It was silent except for the occasional rustling of hay and neighing horse. He led his horse into an empty stall and removed the saddle and bridle. Leviathan dropped his head and made a huffing sound of pleasure as Rand began grooming his back with the comb hanging on the stall wall.
Rose’s upcoming marriage to Sir Golan had exacerbated his growing discontent with his life. All night he had been trying without success to forget about her, first with drink and then in Elena’s arms.
With every passing day he desired her more, her unique essence seeping into his blood and bone and sinew—a potent concoction. His normal regimen of exhaustive pursuit of pleasure no longer could suppress his rising appetite to possess her, body and soul.
He refused to contemplate offering Rose the choice to marry him instead. Even if the king would accept him, Rand would never inflict himself upon Rose, for death seemed to follow him. The two people he loved most had died before his eyes because he couldn’t save them. Once he married Rose, he would have to “love, honor, and protect” her. But he feared he was incapable of protecting her. The past had born out how inept he was when it came to those to whom he was closest. He could not bear it if Rose was harmed due to his inability to shield her from danger.
Rand placed the horse comb on the stall wall, swung open the stall door, and left the stables. The only thing he could think to do was seek the quiet sanctuary of prayer in an attempt to find the absolution he desperately craved, but forever eluded him.
Chapter Five
Before dawn of the next morning, as Rose knelt in front of the chapel altar in prayer, biting cold from the flagstone floor seeped into her knees. The elaborate carved rood screen guarded the chancel of the palace chapel dedicated to St. John. Before the screen was the simple stone altar, atop which stood a forlorn lit candle. Very little light illuminated the area directly in front of her. She clasped her hands tightly to still their trembling.
The silence in the chapel could not calm the debilitating fear that coursed through Rose. The solace she sought in prayer eluded her. Her thoughts kept returning to the audience with the king. When Edward demanded she marry Sir Golan, her first instinct was unmitigated terror and then outright defiance. But one did not defy a king, and especially not one as capricious as Edward.
If Rose defied him, he could revoke her custody of Jason as easily as he had given it. The only alternative was to flee, but she would never leave her son behind. She would have to return to Ayleston and retrieve him. There was no doubt in her mind, though, that the king would seize Jason before she could. If by some miracle she did succeed, how could she protect Jason? A woman and child on the road without the protection of a man would be at the mercy of criminal and scoundrel alike.
Nay. She loved Jason so much she would do anything to protect him.
Perhaps she was overreacting. Sir Golan was a handsome man, but that was no proof he was anything like her cruel husband. She pulled the stone out from beneath her bodice and rubbed its smooth surface, seeking to ease her anxieties. It made her feel closer to Jason. At least Jason was legally in her custody and care. Golan would have no part in arranging his education, fostering, and marriage settlements.
Rose dipped her head again and prayed for guidance. A shiver lifted the hairs on the back of her nape. She shuddered and looked over her shoulder. The enveloping darkness of the barrel-vaulted nave no longer exuded a sense of solemnity.
Rose said a final prayer, crossed herself, and with one hand levered up off her aching knees. She hurried through the nave, her gaze moving back and forth to the arcade columns. Surely someone could not be watching her from the darker concealment of the aisles?
She entered the small vestibule when a large masculine hand reached out from the shadows. A shrill scream emerged from the back of her throat but was quickly cut off by his hand over her mouth.
“Don’t scream, Rose. ’Tis just me.” He released her immediately.
Her heart was palpitating so hard it felt as though it would burst. Stunned, she allowed Sir Golan to lead her back into the chapel. The moon shone through the clearstory windows—windows high in the second story above the arched columns—giving subtle illumination.
“Sir Golan, I was just returning to my chamber to retire. I pray you excuse me.”
He blocked her exit. “Rose, we have yet to speak privately about our upcoming marriage. Now we are alone, it would be a shame not to take this opportunity to discuss it.”
“My lord—”
“Prithee, call me Golan.” He smiled, baring his straight teeth. “We shall be married soon.”
“Golan,” she said after a slight pause. “The king made clear I am to marry you in two days’ time and I shall obey him. What more is there to discuss?”
“I can see you are troubled. How may