Vow of Deception. Angela JohnsonЧитать онлайн книгу.
twig snapped in the cover of the dark, impenetrable woods. Golan jerked this way and that. “Who goes there?”
The wind sighed, the rustle of leaves whispering a ghostly chant as moonlight cast eerie shadows through the tree branches. His heart pounded; his palms grew damp with sweat. At that moment, three large forms moved into the small clearing. One carried a mace, one a flail, and the other a war ax.
Hand on his sword, Golan swallowed down his trepidation. He had been informed that he was to parlay alone or there would be no negotiations. These men were ruthless and unpredictable outlaws. For a price they’d perform any nefarious service.
The leader, Golan assumed, and the largest of the outlaws, stepped forward while the other two stood guard behind him. The leader stood with his feet spread apart and his arms crossed over his chest.
Golan cleared his throat. “I came alone, as you requested.”
The man laughed, a gravelly sound that sent a shiver down Golan’s spine. The black cloth covering his face from the nose down puffed with the exertion. “My men ascertained you were alone.”
Golan was startled by the aristocratic tone of the speaker.
“I am a cautious man,” the outlaw said. “Betray me, and I will kill you.”
The man with the mace grunted and ran his hand across his neck to indicate cutting a man’s throat. Golan gulped, but his mouth was dry and his tongue stuck to the roof of it.
“I am not here to betray you. I wish to hire you to remove a rival.”
Silence. Long, intimidating silence. Golan’s chest rose and fell rapidly, his puffing breath loud to his ears.
The leader smiled with a baleful gleam in his eyes. “Do you have a plan to eliminate your rival?”
Golan nodded. “In two days there will be a joust at Westminster. I and another knight shall be the final combatants. I intend to be the victor, and to the victor go the spoils.”
Revenge upon the lying, deceitful pair added sweetness to the plot, so much so that Golan could almost taste it. Rand had humiliated him. Golan let no one make a fool of him and live. His first wife, carrying a bastard in her belly, had discovered her mistake before Golan smothered her in childbed.
He smiled, his lips twisted in anticipation.
The next day in the palace garden, Rose sat on a turf bench leaning back on her hands. She threaded her fingers through crisp blades of grass, her face raised to the sky, and her ankles crossed before her. She sighed, basking in the warmth of the sun’s rays.
Behind the bench, which lined the hedge wall, were raised herb beds planted with rosemary and thyme, their fragrant scents saturating the courtyard. She smiled, remembering the afternoon she and Jason had spent gathering herbs in the woods. His infectious giggle and mischievous grin could always cheer her when she was feeling troubled. She missed him so much her heart ached.
“Rose. Here you are. I’ve been looking for you.”
She jerked and sat up, her gaze alighting on a tall woman who entered the small square courtyard surrounded by six-foot-high yew hedges. Gravel crunched beneath her bright-yellow-slippered feet. Wearing a yellow long-sleeved surcoate over an embroidered lavender tunic, Lady Katherine, her sister-in-law and best friend, smiled warmly and approached with her hands outstretched. Rose got up and greeted her.
“Kat. I’m so glad to see you.” Clutching Kat’s fingers in her hands, Rose kissed her cheek and then pulled back to look at her. “You look positively radiant.”
Her golden skin and gray almond-shaped eyes were glowing, and yet a new serenity seemed to permeate her whole being. Rose reached out and touched her rounded belly with both hands. “How is my little niece doing?”
Kat’s smile grew wider. “What makes you think the baby is a girl?”
“What else would it be with two headstrong people such as you and my brother insisting it will be a girl? I am certainly not going to gainsay either one of you.”
Kat burst into laughter, an infectious, sparkling sound. Her long black hair, covered with a veil and circlet, rippled to her waist when she threw her head back. Rose laughed and pulled Kat down beside her on the turf bench.
“Tell me. How are you and Alex faring? Though I have received all your letters, now that you are back at Montclair I would hear it firsthand.”
“Of course, I shall tell you everything. But I want to know how you are doing. Alex and I spoke to Rand when we arrived at court. I cannot believe Edward would arrange for you to marry Sir Golan without consulting your father. Now Rand and Golan are to joust to determine your rightful betrothed? This must be awful for you!”
Rose tried to keep a brave smile on her face, but it was impossible. Her emotions—revolving from fear to anger to disbelief to doubt—hammered away at her till her head ached with the relentless bombardment. It was why she had decided to come to the garden for a few moments of peace. Now, her brow creased and she rubbed her thumb over a wrinkle in her gray gown along the top of her thigh.
Kat covered Rose’s hand to still the nervous gesture. “Oh, what am I saying? You don’t need to worry that Sir Golan shall win. Rand is one of the fiercest and bravest knights in Christendom. He shall trounce the man and make him wish he’d never dared to aspire to marry you.”
“Rand can rot for all I care!”
Kat’s mouth dropped open and her eyes widened. “Rose! Surely you do not want Rand to lose to Sir Golan?”
“Aye, I do. I mean, nay, of course not. The truth is I don’t want to marry anyone. You know how I feel about marriage. What you don’t know is that before I arrived at court, I was on the verge of taking a vow of chastity. Then Rand arrived at Ayleston to escort me to Westminster.”
“Why are you angry at Rand? He was only doing his duty.”
“Because he knew. The dastard knew I intended to take a vow of chastity.” Rose withdrew her hand from Kat’s and broke off a sprig of thyme from a nearby bush and jerkily plucked several small dark green leaves from the stem. “Yet still he escorted me to the king, all the while knowing Edward meant to betroth me to Sir Golan. And Rand said not a word to warn me.”
“But can you not understand the difficult position he was in?” Kat clutched Rose’s shoulder and squeezed. “It must have been very hard for Rand considering his divided loyalties.”
The thyme slipped from her fingers to the ground unheeded. “Aye, but it does not change the fact that he lied to me. You of all people should understand how I feel. Alex abandoned you on your wedding night without a word to go on Edward’s Crusade.”
“Verily, I do not deny it. But I forgave Alex eventually. I know Rand cares for you and feels terrible he can’t do more to protect you.”
“Rand did protect me. When Sir Golan attacked me.” She shivered, crossed her arms over her chest, and rubbed her upper arms. “If Rand had not intervened—” The thought was too terrible to contemplate.
“So ’tis true?” Kat’s soft voice was riddled with sympathy. “Rand discovered you before the fiend could violate you?”
“Aye. Rand arrived with no time to spare.” Remembering Golan’s repugnant flesh pressed against her belly made nausea churn in her stomach. “Except for the humiliation I endured, I am unscathed.”
Kat reached for her right thigh and caressed the hidden dagger Rose saw outlined beneath her gown. “I would dearly love to geld the bastard for daring to touch you.”
Having grown up training with her father’s knights, Kat was skilled in the art of combat and always carried the dagger for protection. The habit had saved Kat’s and Alex’s lives when Lady Lydia, Alex’s vengeful ex-lover, sought to murder them with the help of an accomplice.
“I just wish everyone would stop meddling