LITMIR.BIZ

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destination.

      Simon said, “I have told you, Your Majesty, that letter has been taken out of turn. The man I spoke of was not you, but Kelsey himself.”

      The king shook his head. “And as I have told you, my lord Warleigh, there would be no reason for Kelsey to lie to me in this. He says that he does know for a fact that it is me you plot against and not him because you approached him in that vein. Indeed, why would he lie if he knew that it was he who was the target of your machinations? Surely a loyal man such as he would simply seek my protection.”

      Simon knew why. Kelsey had thought that by making it appear that Simon was plotting against the crown he would rid himself of an enemy with little effort on his part. Yet Simon knew it was pointless to reiterate this fact. John, knowing that many of the nobles were discontented with him, was ready to believe the worst.

      The king seemed angered anew! “Well, Warleigh, what say you? Take Kelsey’s daughter, or…?” He arched dark brows high.

      Simon reached up and ran a hand over the dragon brooch that held his heavy woolen cloak over his shoulder. He spoke deliberately. “I must think on this.”

      John nodded sharply. “You have until morning.” The king’s gaze raked him. “Kelsey’s daughter has been summoned. ’Tis her or the axe.”

      Simon raised his own dark brows, outraged at what was revealed by the king’s words. It was clear that Kelsey had agreed before Simon was even informed. “I begin to see that this marriage is a bid by Kelsey to gain my lands….”

      John stopped him with a raised hand. “Your accusation is ridiculous, for my lord Kelsey was not eager for this union. Yet he—” the king’s scathing gaze raked Simon “—is loyal to me and will do as his sovereign desires. Even had I been inclined to heed your accusations against the earl, this new charge against him would convince me of your lack of honesty. You will say no more against him.”

      Simon felt a stab of self-directed anger at his rashness in speaking without thinking. Of course Kelsey had not engineered the marriage. As Simon’s nearest neighbor and favorite of the king he would have some hope of gaining the lands without such a drastic step, or at least holding them if the king wanted them for himself.

      Simon could see no choice but to agree to this marriage. He took a deep calming breath. “I understand.”

      The two guards started toward him. He stopped them with a raised hand, his dark eyes proud as he looked to the king. “Their escort will not be necessary. I can find my own way back to the village.”

      John eyed him, then shrugged when Simon’s gaze did not waver. “Very well. See that you do not leave the town and be warned, if you do, I have the power to take Avington. You would also forfeit your life, for my patience would be at an end and my offer of leniency revoked.”

      Again Simon bowed, making no reply, though he would not have called what had been offered to him here leniency. Not marriage to Kelsey’s daughter.

      The king then gestured toward the door. “Leave me.”

      Simon swung around and strode from the chamber. He must indeed think on this matter, though what could come of thinking he did not know.

      He went directly to the stables, heedless of the chill autumn breeze that cut through his light cloak. His very life was at stake here—and more importantly, Avington. With his father and brother dead he finally had an inkling of why his father had always put Avington first, even before his own well-being. ’Twas a great responsibility to care for not only the heritage of his family, but the lives of so many who depended upon him as their lord.

      He now realized how mad he had been to embark upon this feud with Kelsey. Yet upon returning from the Holy Land, all his old outrage against the earl had been awakened when he learned that upon his brother’s death the earl had sought to gain control of Avington. The longtime steward had told Simon enough of the earl’s machinations to make his blood boil, including the fact that Kelsey had tried to gain access to the keep with his men a week before Simon returned home. The steward had only been able to put him off by declaring that he had no right to grant anyone permission to enter with his lord dead and the new lord not yet returned. That he would be happy to do so if the earl was to come with edict from the king.

      Simon’s arrival at Avington had clearly only just prevented the earl’s obtaining that edict.

      Newly come from the Holy Land with him, both Jarrod and Christian had been eager in their insistence on joining his quest to see Kelsey pay for his wrong-doings. When Simon had stated that this was his fight and that he would not have them risk their own skins, they had reminded him quite forcefully that Kelsey had wronged them as well. They had been mere boys when he murdered The Dragon and took his lands. Now they were men, hardened by hardship and battle. They would not have Simon cheat them of this chance to strike back at one who had done such wrong.

      These thoughts reminded him that the only two men he fully trusted on earth awaited word of what had occurred in the king’s chambers. They appeared within hours of each other at the inn where he had been allowed to stay when he arrived at court two days before. Neither had admitted how they knew what was going on, but Simon suspected that it had been the steward who had sent them news of his summons to court. That good man had cautioned against retribution toward Kelsey, who he knew was an intimate of the king.

      Simon had failed to heed that advice.

      To his detriment. For he had not foreseen how devious Kelsey would prove.

      Kelsey had already been at court with his stolen letter when Simon arrived. Nothing Simon had said in his own defense had been heeded and he would not have been allowed any other witnesses even if he had been inclined to let his friends stand for him.

      Kelsey could not know their identities or they would have been accused, as well. Simon would keep it that way.

      He pressed his horse to a faster speed.

      So preoccupied was he that Simon was nearly upon the wagon blocking the center of the road before it gained his attention. Casting a puzzled gaze over the wagon he immediately realized that one of the rear wheels was lying beside it in the road. Several men, most of them garbed in mail and obviously soldiers, were working to raise it in order to get the wheel back on. Horses of decent breed, as well as a glossy black mare of exceptional quality, were tied to a tree just off to the right.

      Two women, one in a long hooded cape of good wool and another in a hooded cape of heavy burgundy velvet stood looking on. A noblewoman and her entourage, he assessed quickly. Most likely they were on their way to court.

      In spite of all that was going wrong in his own life, Simon found himself stopping. He greeted the two women. “Is there aught I might do to help you?”

      The taller of the two, the one in the velvet cape raised her head….

      Dear heaven, he thought as his eyes met hers, which were almond shaped and the most unusual color he had ever seen, for they were the exact shade of newly budded lilacs. Her alabaster skin molded features of perfect and pleasing symmetry like those he had seen on statues while travelling through Italy, the nose straight, the cheekbones high. Her lips were such a luscious wild berry hue that he wondered if she had been biting them. The dark ebony hair that rimmed the inside of her hood seemed to come afire with subtle streaks of deep red in the morning light.

      She was beautiful, undeniably, incredibly, mesmerizingly beautiful.

      It took Simon a moment to realize that those perfect lips were moving, answering the question he had forgotten he’d asked. Her voice, having a slight huskiness for a woman, was soft and evenly modulated, and it stirred his senses as greatly as her beauty. “I do not know what it might be, sir.” She did not fully meet his gaze for more than a brief moment as she gestured to the men who had not ceased in their efforts to raise the wagon. “There are hands enough to see it done.”

      A firm rejection of his offer, but perhaps just what a gently bred young woman should tell a strange man.

      Still he lingered, finding himself asking

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