The Bride Thief. Susan Paul Spencer
on the bed, he kissed her harder, until Isabelle felt tears of pain stinging her eyes. When he at last pulled away, she gasped for air, and tried to turn away, but he held her face between his palms and ran his tongue over her lips.
“Forgive me,” he murmured, placing more stinging kisses on her face and neck.
Finally, as Sir Myles’s angry voice neared their door, he thrust his hands into her thick, unbound hair, rapidly disordering it.
“Keep yourself covered,” he commanded as he stood. “And trust me, Isabelle.”
The next moment he had flung the chamber door open, and in the candlelight from the hallway Isabelle could see that he held his dagger in his hand. Her uncle appeared, his face first angry, and then, as Justin grabbed him by the collar, surprised. He began to say a word, but only air whooshed out of him as he was shoved up against the far wall with the dagger held against his throat.
“Now,” Justin said into the other man’s face, “did I hear you insult my good lady wife a moment ago, sir?”
“Aye!” Sir Myles sputtered wrathfully. “I’ll name her. slut and more, i’ faith!” Craning his neck, he looked past Justin’s broad shoulder until he saw Isabelle sitting in the bed, thoroughly disheveled and covered all the way up to her neck with bed linens. “Harlot!” he shouted furiously. “Jezebel! Ungrateful who—”
The last word died unfinished as Sir Myles choked.
“I will kill you for speaking thusly of my lady,” Justin told him, seething, pressing the blade closer.
Suffocating, Sir Myles flapped his arms like a helpless bird. “Off,” he managed, his bulging eyes pleading desperately with Father Hugo, who stood nearby. “Off!”
“That’s enough, Justin,” his elder brother said calmly. “I do not say he doesn’t deserve death, but I’ll not suffer murder within these sacred walls.”
“Then I shall take him outside,” Justin replied evenly.
“Where his men will kill you after you’ve finished with him. Nay.” Father Hugo set a hand on his shoulder, attempting to pull him back. “I’ll not let you be killed this night for such a one as this. Leave him be.” When Justin gave no proof of hearing his words, he added, “Do you wish to make Lady Isabelle a widow so soon after she became a wife?”
“Nay,” Justin admitted. He released Sir Myles and stepped back, warning, “Guard your tongue, and do not speak thus again, else I swear by heaven I will indeed kill you.”
Sir Myles put a hand to his throat and breathed with loud relief. A moment passed before he was able to say, “You—you stole her. You insulted my daughter, and me.”
“I stole the wife I wanted,” Justin said, “to this I admit. As to your daughter and yourself, I cannot think that any insult I may have given compared to that which was given me.”
Sir Myles looked at him with renewed fury. “We gave you no insult! I was willing that my only daughter should become your wife. Evelyn has fully expected to wed you two days from this. How could you mar her name and reputation so? ’Tis worse than mere insult! And to steal my niece from my own home, while I slumbered. With the help of your bastard friend, Sir Christian Rowsenly.” He said the name with sour disdain. “I never should have been so generous as to allow that illegitimate whoreson into my ho—”
The dagger went up again, and Sir Myles was once more thrown against the wall. This time Father Hugo had to use both arms around Justin’s shoulders to pull him away.
“He’s cut me!” Sir Myles cried with horror, pulling bloodied fingers from his throat. “He’s—he’s nearly killed me! My knights! Attend me!”
“Aye!” Justin snarled, amid a loud clattering in the hall. “And but for my brother, I should have done.” He powerfully shoved Hugo away. “Call every man in your service, Sir Myles.” Justin pulled his sword from its sheath, holding it skillfully in his other hand even as the blooded dagger twirled like a butterfly in the other. “’Twill do you no good. I will yet kill you, and happily.” Raising his voice, he called, “Christian Rowsenly! Attend me!”
“I am here, my friend,” Sir Christian said with placid calm as he strode through the crowd made by Sir Myles’s men. “Unharmed and well, and wishing you would be less ready to take insults that belong to me.” Turning to smile at Isabelle, who was trembling with the awareness that she was starkly naked beneath the bed linens, he said with more gentle reassurance, “My lady, you would do as well to return to your slumbers. This is an interesting display, i’faith, but naught shall come to harm you.”
“I want no fight,” Sir Myles said. “My niece has proved her ingratitude this night for the years of care that she and her brother have received at my hand, yet I am willing to take her back. Whatever ceremony took place here this night will be annulled, and you may consider your betrothal to my daughter forever broken, Sir Justin.”
At this, Justin laughed. “I considered it well broken many days ago, when I realized the game that you and your daughter played upon me. I came to you with honor, and you treated me with naught but contempt. Worse, you sought to steal my lands for yourself by making them a payment for your daughter’s hand. But now, my lord, you will suffer the game I have chosen. I have done the stealing, and your niece is my wife. Mine, Sir Myles. You will not have her back.”
Sir Myles turned nearly white. “I must have Isabelle back.”
“So that she may continue to increase your wealth?” Justin asked pointedly, laughing again when Sir Myles’s mouth fell open. “Oh, aye, I’ve learned much about you these past many days, my lord. All that you have has come to you through Isabelle’s efforts. You have made her like a slave to gain riches. Now I am the one who shall enjoy her talents, who will have the benefit of the skills she possesses. She will make me rich in ways you’ve not yet begun to fathom.”
“Nay! You’ll not!” Sir Myles sputtered. “I’ll go to the duke and demand her return. I am her legal guardian, and she did not have my permission to wed. ‘Tis all illegal!”
“Is it?” Justin asked, sheathing both his sword and dagger with equally fluid movements. “We shall see.” He turned and strode back into the chamber, not stopping until he had reached Isabelle and scooped her, bed linens and all, into his arms and out of the bed. “Look!” he said, his tone daring. “Look and see. I have taken Isabelle as my wife before the Church, and in the way of men. The proof is here, my lord. Can you think the duke will deny it? The law requires nothing more than Isabelle’s unforced consent in the matter, and every man who attended our marriage— and Isabelle herself—will attest that she was willing.”
Sir Myles stepped into the chamber, staring at the blood-stained sheet as if it were a horror. “You stole her,” he repeated weakly. “It cannot stand as legal.” He lifted wide eyes to gaze at his niece. “Isabelle, you must come back. Have you no care for Senet?” His meaning was clear.
“You threaten my wife at your peril, my lord,” Justin warned in a low voice. “I have never asked my brother, Alexander of Gyer, for anything in my life, but on the morrow I will send him a missive, asking him to use every power he possesses to have Senet Gaillard put into my guardianship. You will know that the lord of Gyer is a man who is not denied what he asks for by either crown or regent. Until Senet is under my hand, you will treat him well, or suffer facing the king’s regent with my complaints regarding your care of him.”
Sir Myles began to shake. He clamped his trembling hands together in an effort to still them, but when he took another step toward Isabelle, he only appeared to be pleading. “Isabelle, you must come back with me! I’ll give you anything. Do anything. Evelyn will be kind. I swear it. You can’t want to go with this man. He doesn’t care for you. ‘Tis only your ways with money that he wants. Can’t you see that?”
Isabelle saw it. She’d heard Sir Justin openly proclaim the fact before everyone present, while she sat in the bed and felt as if someone had speared