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Vow of Deception. Angela JohnsonЧитать онлайн книгу.

Vow of Deception - Angela Johnson


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me swear to keep the knowledge to myself.”

      “But you knew. You knew I was going to take a vow of chastity. Now it is too late. I’m trapped. How could you betray me like this?”

      “Rose. Stop struggling. You’re going to hurt yourself.”

      “Nay! Let me go!” she hollered.

      Rand released her wrists. Not yet spent, she began hitting him in the arms and chest. Rand let her land a few blows he thought were well deserved and then wrapped his arms around her. He held her till her fury elapsed.

      Rose slumped against him. Her tears wet his tunic and her heavy breathing penetrated the cloth, bathing his chest with warmth.

      “Why, Rand?” she begged, her voice thready. “Why did you not warn me when you came to the castle?”

      “I could not. The king swore me to secrecy. As his loyal and sworn man, honor bade I keep my word.”

      Rose pulled out of his arms with a violent tug. “What of your loyalty to me? We have been friends for a long time. And once were much more to each other. Have you forgotten so easily the night we made love? Where was your honor then? I deserve better treatment from you. I shall not forgive you for this betrayal.”

      “Are you speaking of that night we made love? Or that I could not tell you of King Edward’s plan to marry you to Golan? Because you know that night was a mistake on both our parts. You made me swear never to speak of it.”

      Rose clutched her hand over her heart. “Aye, I do not want to be reminded of what a fool I was. Twice. I cannot believe I actually trusted you.”

      “Believe me, I wanted to warn you.”

      Her eyes widened with sudden terror and her body tensed as though she were a frightened doe about to bolt. “Oh, Lord, how shall I survive marriage to Sir Golan? He will be furious now. I fear what he will do to me.”

      “Do not be afraid. I’m not going to let him hurt you. I promise.”

      “How can you make such a promise?” Rose shuddered, blue eyes haunted. “The man will be my husband in two days’ time. No one could protect me from Bertram, and no one can protect me now.”

      Rand clutched her head between his hands and forced her to gaze into his eyes. His eyes blazed with conviction. “Listen to me. I know I failed you before, but I am going to make it right. I swear to you, Sir Golan will never have the opportunity to hurt you again.”

      “Why should I believe your promises after you lied to me?”

      “Because despite what you think, I care about you. I do not wish to see you forced to marry a man I now know is a danger to you.”

      “What are you saying, Rand? Edward insists I marry; there is naught you or anyone can do to sway the king when he has decided upon a course.”

      Rand took a deep breath. “I am going to see that your betrothal to Golan is discredited, and then to appease Edward, I shall marry you instead.”

      Rose’s temples began to throb and her palms dampened as Rand laid out an elaborate scheme based on the rocky foundation of a preposterous lie. She shook her head, refusing to accept Rand’s plan. It was madness. It would never work. She would absolutely not be a party to such absurd machinations.

      Chapter Six

      The following afternoon in the king’s private reception room, Edward towered over Rose with a piercing stare. “Answer me honestly, Lady Ayleston. It is imperative that you tell me the truth of the matter.”

      She clutched her hands behind her back to keep them from trembling. Surely all in the chamber could hear the pa-bum pa-bum pa-bum of her wildly beating heart.

      She shifted her gaze to her father. Philip de Beaumont, Baron Briand, gave her an encouraging smile. His blue eyes, darker than hers, were soft with love.

      Avoiding direct eye contact with Golan, Rose noticed his face was now marred with a black-and-blue eye and swollen nose. Satisfaction stirred in her breast.

      Finally, she regarded Rand.

      His gray-green eyes held hers—willing her to answer in the affirmative. Rose took a deep breath and lied to the king of England. “Aye, my lord. Sir Rand and I vowed to marry when I was at court last spring.”

      At Golan’s deep inhalation, Rose looked at him at last. A fierce light flared in his black eyes and pierced her with a promise of retaliation. She shuddered.

      Upon seeing Golan’s stare, Rand moved to Rose’s side and fixed a frozen glare on Golan till he jerked away.

      Lord Briand added, “When my daughter informed me of her and Rand’s betrothal, I gave them my blessing. Though as a widow, Rose need not have my permission to marry.”

      When Rose’s father arrived at court early that morn, Rand had apprised him of Rose’s betrothal to Golan and the events that had transpired in the chapel. Lord Briand had been incensed, not only because Golan had attacked Rose, but also because Edward had given Sir Golan permission to marry Rose without consulting him. For those reasons, when Rand had laid out his plan to concoct a former, secret betrothal, Lord Briand had been quite willing to swear falsely that he knew of it.

      “Sire, surely you don’t believe this nonsense,” Golan thundered, a purple vein bulging at his temple. “Last night Lady Ayleston claimed she intended to take a vow of chastity. Yet we are to believe she and Sir Rand had a prior betrothal agreement, which we are only hearing about now?”

      Lord Briand, his voice soft yet lethal, inquired, “Are you calling me a liar, Sir Golan?” He frowned fiercely at the younger man.

      Lord Briand stood tall and robust, his black hair silvered at the temples. Though not in his prime, he was still a powerful man. He had once been King Henry III’s champion.

      Rand watched Golan squirm. The barrel-chested knight held up his hands in acquiescence. “Nay, my lord. But I believe I have the stronger claim.”

      King Edward chose that moment to intervene. “Lord Briand, you have put me in a difficult position. I granted Sir Golan permission to marry your daughter, and when I give my word I don’t rescind it. The prior betrothal between your daughter and Sir Rand was verbal, not a written contract.”

      Sir Golan looked smugly at Rand.

      Edward continued, “Yet verbal agreements are as valid as written ones in the eyes of the Church. And it would appear that Rand does have the prior claim.”

      Though the whole plot to fabricate a betrothal with Rose had received Edward’s tacit approval when Rand spoke to him this morrow, the king was ever unpredictable. Rand would not put it past him to alter the secret agreement they made between one another, which included a sizable coin payment from Rand.

      Rand flexed his fists with the urge to repeat last night’s thrashing. “Sire, I demand to prove my rightful claim to Lady Ayleston in trial by battle.” He smiled at Golan in anticipation. “Dare you accept my challenge, Golan?”

      Golan pushed his chin out. “I accept your challenge, Rand, and when I defeat you, all shall know I am the rightful claimant of the lady.”

      Brushing his hand over his chin repeatedly, Edward’s eyes narrowed with a thoughtful gaze. “Very well. Sir Golan, Sir Rand, this will be decided on the field of combat. A joust will be held in two days, the winner of it shall claim Lady Ayleston’s hand in marriage and wardship of her son’s estate.”

      A soft gasp escaped Rose. Rand wondered if it was out of concern for him, or if she realized there was no going back and she would have to actually marry one of them in the end. Rand grinned at Golan. He was going to make the other knight regret he’d ever laid a hand on Rose.

      Nor did he doubt he would win. And when he did, he would deal with Rose then. He needed his complete attention fixed upon the upcoming battle. Afterward, he would be able to contemplate the ramifications


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