A fantasy romance of secrets, scars, and unexpected desire. Book 2 in the Ladies in Waiting series—perfect for fans of slow-burn chemistry and layered characters.

Love at second sight.

Ally wants passion and adventure. She’s ready to seek a lover. There’s just one obstacle―her husband.

Roland had little use for his child bride; until he saw her again after ten years at war. Her tongue cut like a sword’s edge, but her body promised nights of raw passion. If only he could overcome her hatred.

But it’s not hatred that has her on the run. A far different emotion drives her to flee his touch. Once an unwanted wife was bad enough. This time she won’t wait around to become the other woman.

A hot, but not explicit, romance novel

Perfect for fans of: Historical romance, strong heroines, and epic love stories with a touch of suspense.

 

✨Read a sample now:

Chapter 1

Allyson's betrothed froze on the threshold, stunned. She couldn't blame him; it wasn't every day a man found his fiancée and his mistress together in the same room.

"Come in, Roland." Allyson gestured ironically at the velvet couch where his long-time love, Marissa, sat. "You're just in time for tea."

Marissa smiled anxiously at him, and like a man in a trance, he complied.

Now that all the players in this little drama had assembled, Allyson poured the tea, carefully hiding the nervous trembling of her fingers as she served his. Black, just the way he liked it.

Wary as a cornered cat, Roland’s gaze darted between the two women. "What's going on?"

With an impatient sigh, Allyson gestured with her cup, careful not to spill. This would be one of the most difficult things she had done in all her sixteen years, but it was the only solution she could think of that all parties might live with. "Our parents are forcing us to wed, Roland. I can sympathize with your situation; your family badly needs their king’s approval, and we can't commit treason.

"No matter what we feel, our monarchs are determined that this foolish deal will reinforce the peace between our people. I know you don't want this, especially since I’m being forced. Mistress or not, I still find you a better choice than losing my head."

Her face darkened. Her father was delighted with the betrothal, since he’d found her particularly difficult to marry off. In one stroke, her father would be rid of his most troublesome daughter and form an advantageous alliance. From his point of view, he couldn’t lose.

Besides, her father knew she favored their neighbor Roland; she always had. So did he. Unfortunately, her father’s view on mistresses and hers did not mesh. To his mind, they were no threat to the lady of the house, merely a mild diversion. Didn’t he have one himself? Such a paltry thing had never bothered her mother, or anyone else. She would marry Roland.

Allyson felt differently. If she couldn’t have the whole man, then she would accept nothing at all, husband or not. Her father had underestimated her determination and cunning.

Using the weight of her cup and saucer to still her betraying hands, Allyson continued, “This being the case, I thought we should hammer out an agreement between us.” Her circling cup included the three of them. Using as much gentle persuasion as she could, she proposed, “They may force the vows from us, but they can force nothing else.” Expression fierce, she leaned forward. “I know you love Marissa; would marry her if you could.” Her eyes flicked to Marissa’s stomach. “I know about the child.”

The tick of the clock was the only sound in the room. Roland quietly took Marissa’s hand. A black lock slipped over his forehead, hiding one eye as he glanced at his love’s belly. His child slept there, and by the look on his face, nothing would convince him to give it up.

It was all Allyson needed to see. With every ounce of persuasive power she had, she looked deep into his eyes. “Keep her as the wife of your heart, Roland. When we stand before the bishop, let me stand as proxy for her. After the vows, let us retire to the room, but do nothing. After the household is asleep, go to her and be her husband in truth. Let things remain pure between you.”

The lovers exchanged glances; hers filled with painful hope, his intense with unspoken emotion.

Eyes bright, Roland said roughly to Allyson, “And what about you?”

Safely hidden, her heart gave a painful lurch. Dark-eyed and full of warrior’s fire, Roland Darchorse was the only man she’d ever wanted, and the last one she would ever have.

A pleasant smile on her face, Allyson waved a hand. “I? I will be free.” She forced the smile to brighten, afraid that he would see.

It won’t happen, she thought, determined. This was a private pain. No one would ever be privy to it but her. “Content in my role as cupid, I shall travel the continent, see the sights. We should rarely have cause to see each other.” The smile slipped as she became more serious. “Do we have a deal?”

For a moment, his gaze sharpened, became piercing. For a horrible second, she thought he guessed what she really felt.

Then he looked at Marissa. Slowly his hand covered her belly, and there was so much love in his gaze Allyson wanted to cry. “Yes,” he rasped. “We agree.” Those dark eyes pierced her once again. “I am in debt to you, my lady. More than you will ever know.” Unspoken lay his silent promise to make it up to her, whatever the cost.

Aware that such a thing wasn’t likely to happen this side of heaven, Allyson nodded and avoided his eyes as if it were a trivial matter they’d just settled. “Very good.” With a firm clink, she set down her cup and rose to her feet. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll go to my room and plan my travels. Good day to you.” She nodded politely at the lovers and walked without hurrying to the door.

Only when she was safely locked in her room did she slump against the thick door. One by one, the tears fell, silent witness to the pain. The grief cut deep, burnt on a pyre fueled by girlish, romantic dreams. She’d found her love, her knight, and would wed him, but she’d never have him. There would be no children, no happily ever after.

She was destined to be an unloved wife, to forever be the other woman.

CHAPTER 2

Two years after the wedding…

Roland lunged against his chains. They cut deeply into the raw welts he’d already torn in his wrists, but he didn’t care. A lady, his captors had said. A lady had betrayed him. His eyes narrowed with savage fury. Ally. Ally had betrayed him.

A boat was coming. He couldn’t see it through the fog, but the occasional clank of oars, a guttural swearword drifted over the sea.

The sea wind blew over Roland’s nearly naked body, making him shiver. One of the men who’d waylaid him glanced his way, making certain he was still securely bound to the rocks. Several of the sailor’s comrades had been slain before they’d taken him down, no small feat considering Roland had been alone when he’d been ambushed. Perhaps the man feared the chains might not hold him.

He had reason to be afraid.

The boat slipped from the fog and grated against the rocks. Roland could hear a quick conversation in a foreign tongue, the clink of coins.

Sold as a slave. Betrayed by a lady.

Ally would pay for this.

Eight Years Later…

Roland checked his saddlebags and gave his girth a sharp tug. He had a fresh lead on the man stalking his friend Uric’s woman, and it would take him out of town overnight. For a slinking toad, the man had been surprisingly hard to track. They were certain he was in Queenstown, but his exact whereabouts were a mystery. They needed to find him soon, because Gilroy only became more persistent and nasty with time.

“Roland!” A tall courtier strode toward him, flashing slightly uneven teeth in greeting. Streaks of silver shot through his goatee and chin-length black hair, though Daniel Inferato was only a handful of years older than his brother Roland. Though he might look like a pampered nobleman, his skill with a blade was legend. Kings and beggars walked in awe of him.

Daniel patted Roland’s elk and glanced at the bulging saddlebags. “Going somewhere?”

“To track a killer. Want to come?” Roland flashed his brother an ironic grin. It was the sort of sport Daniel enjoyed best.

“Actually, I had a different sort of intrigue in mind. Something of great interest to my piratical brother.” He flicked Roland’s ear on his blind side, teasing him as only an older sibling would. Few people took such a light view of Roland’s lost eye, though Roland had long since grown used to the nervous reactions to his patch. Daniel had presented him with the silver-inlaid black leather, telling him that he might as well make use of it to intimidate his enemies. Court was teeming with them.

“Sorry. Perhaps when I get back.” He placed his foot in the stirrup.

“Your wife is here.”

Slowly his booted foot came down.

Casually, Daniel went on, “Apparently she’s in seclusion, for no one has seen her, nor does anyone know what brought her here. I caught a glimpse of her through sheer luck. I think she knows you’re here, and she’s avoiding you.”

“Smart girl.” Roland’s intense anger at her was one of the reasons he’d stayed away from Riverdell. Much as he wanted the truth, a part of him feared he’d kill her on the spot. A lady had betrayed him. He’d never doubted the lady had been her.

But he’d never forgotten what she’d done for him and Marissa, back when he cared about the conniving wench. At the time, Allyson’s gesture had greatly moved him, especially since he’d suspected she was a little in love with him. It must have been difficult to bear the shame of being a new bride while her husband openly kept his mistress.

In gratitude, he’d made a silent vow to repay her. Restraining himself from hunting her down and crucifying her must count for something. If that didn’t count as a sacrifice, he didn’t know what did.

Too bad the woman had turned on him. Betrayed by a lady.

Roland snarled and spat on the ground. Some lady.

Aware as he was of Roland’s past, Daniel also knew how his brother had shunned Riverdell. Which was probably why he kept his face expressionless as he said, “I did a bit of research on the matter.”

Roland glared at him. “You meddled.”

“My hobby,” he said modestly. “You might be interested to know she keeps journals. Rather detailed, I might add. They’re right there in her study at Riverdell, in plain sight on her bookshelves.”

“Or for a snooping guest to help himself to?”

“It was late. In spite of her colorful reputation, the lady declined to entertain me in private. I had to resort to a bit of reading to tire myself.”

“And?” Rage coiled in his gut, demanding a target. If there was proof that Allyson had betrayed him…

“I think you should go to Riverdell and see the books for yourself.” Daniel’s expression was grave. Whatever he had found must have been momentous indeed.

Roland blew out a breath. The last thing he wanted was to confront that fortress of evil memories. “You could have simply stolen them for me.”

“Brother, there are some things a man must see for himself. Go to Riverdell. I think the peace which has eluded you these last years awaits there.”

Peace. Roland laughed without humor. Even if he hung the vicious woman, there would be no peace for him. Death wouldn’t undo what had happened to him. Though perhaps it was time the evil wench saw justice. Rumor had it she’d been terrorizing the countryside. No doubt his neighbors would thank him if he saw her removed and a decent steward set over Riverdell instead.

Perhaps it was time he stopped listening to the wounded feelings of a naive young man and took action like the warrior he was.

He mounted his elk. “I’ll think about it.”

Ally eyed her brother-in-law from under her elk’s belly. The beast had gone lame, and she’d chosen to see to him rather than trust him to the queen’s grooms. One could never be too careful.

Until her face was well known at court, she would continue to use her minstrel guise. If even Roland, who had unwittingly traveled in her company for weeks, couldn’t recognize her, then there was little chance of anyone else doing so. Only Daniel, who had made the occasional visit to Riverdell, had realized who she was.

She’d heard a rumor that her wayward husband had returned and had gone to see. Disguised as a minstrel, she’d joined his company to see what kind of man he’d become. She hadn’t been impressed, especially with his intelligence. Granted, it had been ten years, but he hadn’t a clue that his wife was within arm's reach, hearing every slur against her, witnessing his liaisons.

To his credit, he wasn’t the only one fooled. It was ridiculously easy to deceive the court, which had little attention for others. It was almost frightening, considering these were the people supposedly guiding the country.

Her in-law was more observant. If she didn’t take care, she was sure Daniel would talk her into doing something she wouldn’t like.

“You should at least meet with him. Hiding will only make you look cowardly,” Daniel said reasonably.

She turned her attention to the heat in her elk’s leg. “Now why would he care to visit with his ‘tyrannical, tempestuous fishwife’ when he could loll about in bed with any of the court’s light-skirts? I hear General Argus’s daughter is quite the vixen. You should recommend her to him.”

After ten years of neglect, she certainly didn’t care who he slept with. Not that it would have mattered if she had. Roland’s amorous pursuits were famous from the Papal seat to the Holy Land, on a par with his reputation for mayhem and bloodshed. Only his berserker friend Uric rivaled his body count, though he was in peril of being tamed by Ally’s friend Ceylon.

God save her.

“You shouldn’t quote the gossips, and he can find his own lovers. Bring him home for a little while, at least. You might find him of use against your more pesky neighbors,” Daniel insisted with nauseating persistence.

She gave him the evil eye. “I manage Riverdell. Alone. If I need an extra sword, I’ll hire it. Saints know I’ve got enough gold. Commerce was one of the few things my father forced on me which turned into a blessing, the blighter.” The marriage he’d imprisoned her in certainly hadn’t been.

Of course, her happiness had been the last thing on his mind. Had he actually cared about that, he’d have married her off to a goatherd. At least the man would have been around to help milk the goats. It certainly couldn’t have been harder than running several estates and fighting off her grasping neighbors.

Daniel leaned a shoulder against the stall wall without a care for his velvet coat. It was a ruse, she knew. Daniel became whatever he needed to extract information. She’d seen that careless air before.

“Speaking of Riverdell, what’s forced you from it? The passes are nasty in this weather. Was your business that pressing?”

She sent him a knowing look. “Master spy, leave off. If I wanted you to know my business, I’d have written you a letter.”

He chuckled. “As you will, my lady.” He bowed low and left.

Shivers made her flip her collar up. There was something unsettling about that man. As debonair as he was in her company, she’d heard rumors of his viciousness in battle. Though neither he nor Roland’s father bothered her overmuch, both made a habit of dropping by from time to time. Every time they came, she felt their sharp eyes watching, considering her stewardship. It was nerve-wracking.

They could learn a thing or two from Roland and leave her alone.

Memories of him made her scowl and pay closer attention to smearing the ointment on her elk’s leg. A wise woman never dwelt on the follies of marriage. If she had her way, the last time she would see Roland would be in the queen’s audience chamber. As soon as her business was through, she intended to charter a ship and find a nice, sunny isle with a throng of half-naked native men lining the beach. Thanks to her useless husband and the heavy demands of keeping Riverdell prosperous, she’d wasted a lot of living.

Ally wanted a lover.

Not just any lover; someone uncomplicated, carnal. She wanted a man completely uninterested in money, someone possessive and faithful, preferably a stud with the drive to go all night. True, it was a tall order, but while she was dreaming….

Of course, she knew it was unlikely. At most, she would find someone tolerable and handsome. That wasn’t such a bad thing. It was more than she had now, more than many women had. And if she never again had to earn the money while a man went off to war and squandered it…. Sounded like heaven to her.

***

Snowmelt dripped off Roland’s hair and ran down his nose. He pulled his cloak close and tried to ignore his damp boots. This close to the coast, one never knew if it would spit snow, rain, or a freezing mixture of both.

There were few fishermen in the ill-lit inn, so it was easy to spot the one he was looking for. There weren’t too many balding redheads with coin-sized moles on their scalps. A man matching that description was seated at a rickety corner table.

“My lord!” The man waved him over. Roland motioned for his servant to remain by the door and keep an eye out while he took care of business.

“What do you know?” Roland demanded the moment he sat down. The nasty weather had made him grumpy. Chasing fruitless rumors about Gilroy’s whereabouts had soured it further.

“Word has it you’ll pay gold for certain information,” the balding one said, watching him cautiously.

Roland flipped a coin on the table. It was quickly scooped up.

“Right, then.” Watery blue eyes glanced around at the mostly empty room. The stench of his breath nearly knocked Roland over as the fellow leaned forward. “You were right, my lord. She did pay out the tithe, and faithfully, too. My brother’s wife’s father’s friend rode with those hired to collect it.”

Confused, Roland demanded, “What are you talking about?”

The fisherman frowned. “I was told you wanted information about your wife’s doings. That other lord who come through here said you’d want to know where the money had gone.”

“What other lord?” Suspicious, Roland put one hand on his sword and looked around for a trap. If Gilroy had set one…

“Black hair to his chin, salt-and-pepper goatee. Looked something like you, my lord.”

Daniel. Roland’s fingers began to drum. The rhythm got faster as his ire built. He’d sent him out in the rain on a fool’s quest. What idiocy was his brother up to now?

Eyeing Roland uncertainly, the man went on. “It’s the reason she became so witchy, my lord. Got tired of the yearly demands of tithe to be sent to you. Said you were a greedy cur, but….”

“Yearly demands? Are you still talking about my wife?” A dull pounding began deep in his brain, born of temper and confusion. “I never made any demands.” How could he have? He’d still been bloodying his slave’s sword as a gladiator at the time. The only contact he’d had with Allyson in the two years prior to that had been by letter and about business. From the tone of her letters, she’d been delighted to have him away from home. Not that he’d blamed her. It would have been awkward to live under the same roof with both wife and mistress.

His frown deepened. He’d never asked for any money from her during that time, either. “When were these tithes made?”

“For nine years. I’d heard it said that she refused to do it this year. Said you could bloody well come home and collect if you wanted it. She had the collector tossed naked out of her gates. Sent his men scrambling after him. They say it was because the man got cheeky with her, but I don’t know. After all, with her reputation for bedding anything in pants….” He broke off, sending a wary look at Roland as he remembered whom he spoke to.

But Roland was far more interested in this tithe business. It sounded as if someone had been stealing money meant for him. It surprised him that Allyson would have sent the money at all. Whoever had posed as him had to have been powerfully crafty. “How much money are we talking about?”

“Half the yearly income, less the queen’s taxes.”

It was a fortune. A low whistle accompanied Roland’s surprise. But how was it that his father and Daniel hadn’t discovered this sooner? And why couldn’t Daniel have simply told him, he thought with irritation. The man was fond of intrigue, but he hadn’t had to go to such extremes…unless he’d thought Roland would be too obstinate to listen. Either that or it had suited his twisted sense of humor.

One thing was certain; after that nasty ride in the rain, Roland was all attention. He dropped a handful of coins on the table and left to seek lodging.

Perhaps he would have to speak with his infamous Ally Cat after all.

***

“You could have simply told me.” Roland had barely shaken the snow from his cloak before he’d sought out Daniel. While comfortable enough, Daniel’s room in the palace was far from lavish. Elegance, not ostentatious display, was the style.

Daniel raised a brow and poured Roland a cup of tea. “I know you. Had I simply told you, you’d have ignored it and your woman. That, and I do love tormenting you.” His smile was lopsided.

“She’s not my woman.”

“Fine. She’s your wife, your responsibility. The least you could do is take an interest and see what became of your money.”

“I don’t need my duties dictated to me, brother.”

“Then do them!” Daniel set the teapot down with a thump. “Ten years is a bit long to let her molder, no matter what your feelings toward her. Do the girl a favor, solve her problems, and let her get on with her life. She doesn’t deserve to suffer for your stubbornness.”

“You’re interested in her then?” This was news. He hadn’t thought Daniel would care for a woman of his wife’s reputation. But then, Roland had been gone a long time. Perhaps Daniel’s tastes had changed. How well did he really know his brother?

“I don’t covet what’s not mine, though you’ve never bothered to claim it,” Daniel retorted. “My interest in her is familial, I assure you.”

Roland took a sip of wine, savored it. “Yes, well…you might not have ‘claimed’ it, but rumor has it others have made up for your discretion.”

“Rumor is a two-headed dragon. My sources say one lover, perhaps two. Ever. How many do you have to your credit?”

Surprised, Roland blinked. If Daniel said there’d been only two, there had been. And that bit of gossip could have set the court on its ear.

He didn’t even consider that his brother might be wrong. The man was a walking ferret. Even when they’d been children, it had been chilling how easily Daniel could worm out any information about Roland’s misdeeds. Fortunately, he was discrete, or else Roland would have received many more whippings as a boy.

At least as an adult Daniel had turned his attention to deeper intrigues and stopped investigating his sibling’s mischief. The skills he’d honed on Roland had made him a very rich man.

But this tidbit about Allyson…

Rumor had it that the wench had been pursuing men forever, perhaps even in the dawn of their marriage, though he’d seen no evidence of it. As vicious as the rumors were, and as little effort as Allyson made to correct them, it would take a miracle to stop them. Yet Daniel was never wrong.

Curious in spite of himself, Roland asked slowly, “Why would you go through the trouble to find out?”

“She’s family. And one day I knew you’d be home.”

Eyes closed, Roland tipped his head back against the chair and groaned. Daniel was matchmaking. With Roland and his wife, no less. Why couldn’t he have a normal brother who’d be content to cuckold him quietly? The last thing he wanted was a lover’s relationship with Allyson.

The last he remembered of her was a wary-eyed girl with sharp angles and no padding. He hadn’t wanted to think about sex with her, much less see her as a woman. It had been a relief to cut his hand and bleed on the sheets for her.

But…reluctantly, the memory of her sacrifice and his silent promise nagged him. He owed her.

It wasn’t difficult to remember why he’d buried the obligation. Their situation had been awkward, and there wasn’t much he could have done for her. Marissa would have thrown a princess fit if he’d sent gifts, though it wouldn’t have stopped him if he’d thought it would help. Gifts wouldn’t have been enough, and he hadn’t seen what else Allyson had needed except his absence. She had his finest castle, plenty of money and comfort. At the time, it had seemed enough.

Besides, she’d betrayed him, or so he’d thought.

Now someone was stealing from her. It was something he could do, a chance to repay her. And maybe once he was done, he’d find that elusive peace after all.

Daniel must have seen his decision on his face, for he crossed his arms and stroked his goatee. “By the way, while you were chasing after rumors,” he grinned, “I discovered what brought your wife to Queenstown…”

CHAPTER 3

“I understand your position, Lady Riverdell, and I will address it when the other party to this case is present to speak.”

“As you wish.” It was tempting to argue with the queen, but it could only hurt her case. Instead, Allyson shut her mouth and silently recited Gregorian chants. The rhythmic cadence soothed her.

They were alone in the gaslit audience chamber. Everyone had been dismissed due to the delicate nature of Allyson’s case. Only the rhythm of her majesty’s manicured nails as they drummed on the throne arm broke the silence; the queen kept good time. After a moment, Allyson composed a ditty to accompany the drumming. Men are useless. I wish they’d fry. Waiting and waiting. Why do men lie?

Ten years was a long time to wait for a promise she now knew would never be fulfilled. Not unless she extracted it with the power of the throne behind her. Roland owed her. It was time to collect.

The massive audience doors swung open and admitted one man. Her husband.

Light glinted off the inlaid silver in his black leather eye patch. A slight scar nicked the smile groove beside his mouth, and his straight black hair flowed free to his shoulders. As always, his battle-roughened voice caused shivers to kiss her spine. He stared at Allyson with a gaze like cold steel. “Wife.”

She fixed her eyes on the queen and waited for the verdict, uncomfortably aware of his intent gaze. Well, it had been what, eight years since he’d last laid eyes on her? Knowingly, of course.

When she’d heard of his passage near Riverdell, Allyson had disguised herself as a young minstrel and joined his company. He’d never realized her true identity, and she’d had the opportunity to observe him unaware. What she’d seen hadn’t surprised her. While she’d never actually caught the cad wenching, she’d been witness to plenty of his flirtations. No woman had ever had more cause to end a marriage.

“You are aware of Lady Riverdell’s request for an annulment?”

“I am.”

She met his dark gaze boldly. So what if he realized who she’d been in disguise? Good. It made it difficult for him to argue with her. After all, she’d been an eyewitness, almost, to his infidelity.

“What of it then? Do you agree to the annulment?”

Allyson fixed him with her most commanding stare and dared him to say no.

How had he ever mistaken her for a boy? Roland tried to imagine the tight corset required to flatten breasts like hers and failed. She must have been trussed tighter than a holiday hen. Surely she’d required padding to straighten that curvaceous waist. Combined with her blue eyes and lustrous dark hair, it was no wonder she’d made such a pretty boy.

Not that he cared what she did. They’d made an agreement a decade ago to go their own ways, and he had never looked back. Another man would let her go.

Except that…he looked at the cheek nearest him. There was a fading bite mark under her cosmetics, though it was cleverly hidden now. At one point, she’d ridden ahead of the party, driven there by his suspicion. They’d found two men dead and a bloody mess all over the road. Her elk had been slain, and they found her nursing her wounds in a farmstead a mile or two ahead.

Her wounds had been his fault.

“Lord Roland?”

The doctor who had attended “Odell” had never said, but Roland still wondered just how badly the “boy” had been injured. A man didn’t bite another unless he had certain things in mind. What had he accomplished before Odell had managed to slay him?

And besides all this, there was that tithe business….

“Lord Roland.” The queen was getting impatient.

He reached a sudden decision. Perhaps it was time he started fulfilling his obligations. “I do not support her choice.”

“What!”

“You don’t?” Queen Callion seemed equally surprised, but not unhappy. “Why not?”

He shrugged. “I will consummate if she will.”

“No!” Allyson’s hand twitched as if she wished she held a weapon. She fixed him with a forceful stare. “You owe me, Roland. Agree to this annulment!”

Unimpressed, he gazed calmly back. No one changed his mind once he’d made a decision. “I have certain obligations. Perhaps it’s time I saw to them.”

“By stabbing me in the back?” she hissed.

“You don’t wish to have a family of your own?”

“Not with you!”

“Ahem.” The queen folded her hands serenely in her lap. “Perhaps you are unaware of the difficulty this annulment would cause the crown, Lady Allyson. Your dower lands lie between the borders of Lord Roland’s land and a particularly difficult lord. A lord who has repeatedly lobbied me for this very annulment.” She smiled without humor. “He’s been very bold in requesting your hand.”

Allyson stilled. She knew exactly whom the queen was talking about. “I would be very happy to disappear beyond his reach.”

“Then there is the matter of who would care for and protect your land. I believe this was the reason this marriage was arranged in the first place. A marriage your lord seems willing to consummate.”

“He says he is willing. I am not.” It was all Allyson could do to contain her rage and despair. Ten years wasted, caring for his lands and hers. He didn’t deserve her lands, and that was where much of her wealth was produced. Her people prospered under her management, and although she was leaving, she trusted her steward and planned to journey to her lands at least once a year. Roland never even visited his own.

Besides, she didn’t think he intended to make the marriage real. Not for a second. This was just an easy way to keep from troubling himself with finding another manager for his property. Now she regretted faithfully supplying him with his share of their revenue. Perhaps if she’d cheated him, he’d be happy to see her go.

Queen Callion sighed. “I see we are at an impasse. Very well, here is my judgment: you will spend one year together, under one roof. If after this time you still wish to have an annulment, provided you haven’t consummated by that time, it is yours.”

“I am twenty-five, your Majesty,” Allyson gritted out. “Do you realize how difficult it will be for me to find a husband at this time, let alone in another year?”

“What is one year to those you’ve already waited?” the queen asked.

Allyson flinched. The queen’s expression softened. “I will put my verdict in writing. This way even my successor cannot change it. Your interests are protected, Lady Riverdell.”

Hot blue eyes fixed on Roland with contempt. “As you wish, your Majesty.” She curtsied to the queen and walked out, her back straight. The door shut behind her.

The queen inspected Roland with cool command. “You will not force her. I will have your head if you disobey me in this.”

“I do not force women, your Majesty.”

She nodded and flicked her hand in dismissal.

Once outside the doors, Roland had to lope to catch up with his wife. He didn’t bother calling out. She wouldn’t have answered.

“Hello again.” He matched his step to hers.

“Parasite.”

His brows rose. The term was mild; her tone was not. Mildly annoyed, he asked, “So will you be traveling as a boy again or as yourself? I’m hoping for the woman. It’s bloody annoying to have men snickering behind your back because a boy is constantly staring at it.”

She stopped dead. Eyes cold, she informed him, “Actually, I was looking for a good place to stick a knife. Fantasizing, if you will.”

He widened his eye in mockery. “Well, that place would certainly hurt, wouldn’t it?”

“Believe what you will.” As if he were the lowest stable hand, she divorced herself from the conversation and walked on.

“You don’t like having your plans upset, do you? I had heard you were a perfectionist.” More curious than anything, he stayed with her. Women might fear him, but few ignored him. It was a novel experience, and it made him curious.

“Perfectionism is what made our lands so profitable while you were wasting your time bashing men with your sword. If something is worth my time, it is worth doing well.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “Too bad you had to turn into a man to achieve it.”

They had reached her room. One hand on her doorknob, she stared at him. “If that’s what it took to keep our neighbors off my back, that’s what I did. A soft woman would never have survived as long as I have. And according to the queen, not all men view me as mannish.”

“Ah, yes, our troublesome neighbor lord. I’ll have to pay the poor blind geezer a visit. It’s the sort of thing a husband would do.”

“Don’t put yourself out,” she said sweetly, and shut the door in his face. Well, that’s what a man got for being protective. He shook his head at the closed door and turned away. He had things to see to.

***

The saber swished by Allyson’s belly, tearing her shirt. A hair’s breadth closer, and it would have drawn blood. She laughed at her sparring partner. “Is that the best you can do?”

The handsome lieutenant grinned and pressed in harder.

Feeling playful, she pretended a fumble and let him catch her against the wall. Rage at the queen’s ruling, as much as resentment against Roland, made her smile as he planted one hand against the wall and leaned closer. His breath fanned her face as he slowly lowered his mouth.

A wolf whistle broke the mood. “Don’t mind me,” someone said.

The lieutenant stepped back as they looked to see who’d spoken. Roland leaned against a wall and watched them. His stance suggested he hadn’t a care in the world, but his mild demeanor was legendary for hiding a ruthless adversary. The hard glint to his eye made the lieutenant hastily sheath his sword and back off.

“My lady. My lord.” He nodded to them and quit the sparring room with all speed. He averted his eyes from Roland as he left.

“How unsporting! He didn’t even kiss you. Should I fetch him back?” Roland offered.

Irritated at her own embarassment, she said, “Don’t bother. If he’s as bad a lover as he is a fighter, I won’t find any satisfaction anyway.” She sighed and sheathed her own blade. She hadn’t expected much of the young officer, anyway. He was far too civilized, and civilized was the last thing she wanted in a man.

“I could replace him. Care to go a few rounds?”

Ugh! Tired of his games, she grumbled, “What do you want, Roland?”

He pushed away from the wall. “An obedient, respectful wife?”

She took a swig of water from the waiting jug and wiped her face on her sleeve. “Dream big, don’t you?”

“Is there another way?” He gestured to the hall. “Right now, I’m dreaming of filling my stomach. Join me in my rooms for something to eat?”

“I’ll join you in the glassed gardens,” she corrected. “After I’ve washed.”

He smiled as if he’d expected nothing less.

A half hour later, they were seated in the gardens, awaiting their order.

“I’ve never seen a woman get ready so fast,” he complimented her.

“I’ve never been one to dawdle and primp.” Her simple twist took minutes to prepare. She’d forgone washing her hair until later, since she’d yet to have her daily ride. Blessed with an abundance of energy and a love of exercise, she often wore work pants and boots, as she did now. The maroon tunic and dark suede vest were cut to allow easy movement. It was open at the throat, for she couldn’t stand tight collars; the figurative collars she wore were bad enough.

“I’m glad to hear it. It should make the journey to Riverdell that much more pleasant.”

“In a hurry, are you?” She studied the blooming plants and waving fronds that separated them from the other diners. Fortunately, there seemed to be few today.

She hated the way his patch made him look so roguish. It had given her a start when she’d first seen it, for she hadn’t known he’d lost his eye in the wars. It made him seem dangerous, and he didn’t need the help. “You’re welcome to leave any time you want.”

He leveled a look at her. “The queen’s terms start the moment we take up residence together. Wouldn’t you rather get it over with?”

Certain he was regretting his bargain, she grumbled, “We wouldn’t have to bother if you hadn’t stuck your foot in a steaming pile of dog vomit, dearest.”

He studied her, completely unfazed by her remark. “Perhaps you should explain why you’re so eager to run away from a prime estate and a conveniently absent husband?”

“Your absence isn’t as convenient as you imagine. As it happens I’m ready to find a real husband, if such a thing exists. From what I’ve seen the hunt might prove fruitless. So far our elderly steward is the most personable candidate I’ve seen, and I doubt I’ll get many babes off of him.”

“What is it with you women and stewards?” he asked, annoyed.

She was wise enough to let that remark alone. Ever since he’d found his mistress in bed with their last steward he’d been a touchy man. No doubt that’s why he’d chosen a grandfather as their next household manager. Twice cuckolded by his steward, even by an unwanted wife on the second go, would prove incredibly humiliating.

“As I said, he’s too old,” she said, perhaps more gently than she ought.

He locked gazes with her. “But I’m not. I’ve had enough of war. The thought of retiring to my own lands is appealing.” He looked her over with the dispassionate gaze of a professional elk buyer. “I’m ready for a son.”

Since it was such a sensitive topic (Marissa had rid herself of his first child, then taunted him about it when he banished her), Ally was careful how she answered him. Besides, hadn’t she ached for a babe of her own?

Eyes on the fronds behind him, she asked in a tone far more husky than she liked, “And what would you do with a girl? Marry her off to the first promising old man who’ll have her?”

Warmth glowed in the depths of his eye as he shook his head. “Her mother will have an equal say in the matter. You have my word.”

Fury spiked through her. “What good is that? It took you ten years to remember your duty to your lands, to me. What if you have another memory lapse?”

His expression hardened. “You never asked anything of me, other than to be left alone. We made that agreement ten years ago, and I honored it. Are you saying you wanted me to take you to my bed after Marissa left?”

“Of course not!” she scoffed.

“Then why are you so angry?” he asked softly.

***

Allyson saw Roland coming and turned sharply on her heel, hoping he hadn’t spotted her. Dressed as he was all in black, relieved only by his dark purple tunic, there was no way she could miss him. The tunic was embroidered in silver, but it looked completely wrong on a man who could easily have been a buccaneer. The man dared to wear a sword even in the royal halls! Only the queen’s captains were that bold, but she supposed the man was a knight, and renowned at that. Still, did he think there would be a battle in her Majesty’s parlor?

After their tense meeting that morning, she’d thought she’d be rid of him, at least for a while. The man shredded her nerves.

Why she should be nervous at seeing him so soon was a mystery, but since they’d had a falling out even when she’d been disguised as a boy, she couldn’t believe they’d get along any better now. After all, if he could resent her when she posed as a perfect stranger… A personality didn’t just change overnight, and that was one thing she hadn’t disguised.

Since she was dressed for court in a gown of gold and scarlet brocade and a red velvet cape, there was little chance he’d miss her, but she could hope.

She hoped in vain.

In moments Roland’s long stride had overtaken her. He stepped in front of her and stared. The moment dragged out.

Ally sighed and looked heavenward. “Yes, I occasionally wear something other than pants. Since you are accustomed to seeing me in little else, I suppose you’re entitled to stare. However, I’d appreciate it if you’d do it another time. I’m late for tea with Lady Gandulf.” She stepped around him.

He fell neatly into place beside her. “Forgive my lack of manners, sweetheart. It’s amazing what a dress can do for your figure.”

Exasperated, she said dryly, “And you’re an expert on such things, aren’t you? Tell me, did you have something else in mind other than running me down to comment on my fashion sense? I am busy.”

If his grin was any indication, she’d amused the brute.

“Actually, I was looking for an opportunity to publicly present you as my wife.”

She stopped dead in her tracks, as if a glass wall had just appeared right under her nose. She stared at him. “Absolutely not! I’ve no intention of acknowledging a husband I’ve no plans to keep. It might drive off some of my potential lovers! Why don’t we just go our separate ways and remain fashionably unfaithful? It makes for better marriages.”

“Ah, but I’ve got a theory about that. I’d like to test what happens when two people do try to get along…perhaps even share a bed. You never know what an adventure it might be to actually act married.” His voice dropped to a dramatic whisper.

“You’re quite mad, you know,” she said conversationally. “Delusional, even. Perhaps some lucky fellow got to club you over the head with a mace? I tell you what, the queen has excellent physicians. Why don’t you go have them bleed you and see if the world doesn’t make a bit more sense?”

As suddenly as his humor had shown, it disappeared. “I’m going to tea with you, Ally.”

A wise woman would have heeded his tone.

“You know, I could bleed you.” She started walking. “I wouldn’t even charge you for it. Consider it my service to womankind.” She gestured expansively.

Instead of answering, he took her arm. The only thing he displayed was a carefully constructed façade of calm deliberation. He nodded to the curious they passed in the hall, leaving a trail of whispers in their wake.

She wanted to kill him. “Really, Roland. Had I wanted to draw this kind of attention, I would have shaved my head and walked down the hall on my hands. Are you certain you don’t want to dust off your chivalry and spare me?”

He looked at her with interest. “Can you walk on your hands?”

Flustered, she sputtered, “I don’t…bah! Fine. Be that way.”

The man grinned like he’d just won a decisive battle and opened one of the queen’s parlor doors.

The aging Lady Gandulf looked up in surprise. She squinted. “What is this? Don’t tell me you’ve brought your latest lover with you, Lady Allyson! What wickedness!” She looked delighted.

“My lady,” Roland seated Allyson and kissed the old courtier’s hand. “If I did not think my love would skewer me, I’d proposition you. Rarely have I seen a woman with such style.”

Allyson rolled her eyes. If she didn’t need her ladyship’s trading ships so badly….

Their hostess patted her elaborately curled black wig and tittered. “Really, young man. Have a care. Your mistress is not known for her tolerance.”

Mistress! Wonderful. The blind old cat has no idea who he is. Allyson cleared her throat and tried to ignore the man as he sat too close to her on the settee. “Quite. Tell me, how are your children doing, Yanna? Does your son run the business as you wish he would?”

“Ha! If only.”

Allyson sat back and listened politely to her hostess vent. Occasionally, she got lucky and found business associates who liked to get right to the meat of things. More often, she didn’t. Yanna was a fine example of why Ally had been driven to take up knitting. Since the alternative was to go quietly mad as she listened to elderly gripes, she dug in her handbag and retrieved the beginnings of a patterned stocking.

Roland smirked at her and helped himself to a handful of dates. As he chewed, he eyed the Lady Gandulf.

“Why are you here?” he whispered in Allyson’s ear, the action stirring the fine hair with unwelcome sensation. Worse, he put his arm on the back of the sofa as he leaned over, and kept it there.

She sent him her most frigid look. As Lady Gandulf chatted blithely on, Allyson murmured, “Doing business with Yanna’s type is tricky. First you listen to their life’s story, then you deal. As I recall, you weren’t invited, so blame yourself for your boredom.” Though she desperately wanted to remove his arm, she didn’t bother. First, it would tell him how much it annoyed her. Second, she suspected he’d be glad if she caused a scene. He seemed to be in the mood to annoy her.

“Hm. Pity. It’s a lovely day for riding. I’m sure you’d rather be out of that dress, too.” The vibrations from his words made her ear tingle. He took the opportunity to peer at the front of her dress.

Giving in to the urge to fight back, she flicked her ear, conveniently flicking his nose in the process. Hard.

She smiled at Yanna and nodded at something the woman said. Yanna’s tone had demanded an affirmative response.

In retaliation, Roland began to fondle the back of her neck.

“Tell me, child. How long have you been with this lover? I like him,” Lady Gandulf said suddenly. Apparently, her eyesight was good enough to make out something interesting, for she wore a coy smile.

“Ah…” Ally stalled. The last thing she wanted was to reveal her companion’s true identity. It galled her that Roland had shackled her to him again. The last thing she wanted was to admit to it.

Roland wasn’t the least shy, however. “I’m afraid we’ve had a bit of joke on you, my lady. Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Roland Darchorse, Ally’s husband.”

Ally closed her eyes and resisted the urge to groan. Her goose was cooked now.

“Really…”

“You oaf!” Ally hissed at Roland the moment she escaped the parlor. He couldn’t have chosen a more chatty soul to confide in. Worst of all, she hadn’t been able to steer the conversation back to business, which meant at least one more session of being trapped in Lady Gandulf’s gossipy clutches.

“I think she liked me,” Roland said with false innocence.

She shot him a killing look. “I’m so pleased for you! Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go soak my head in ice water. The pressure inside is killing me.”

“I could massage it.” He reached for her.

Instantly her hand shot up to block him. “Don’t! I suffered enough of your ‘ministrations’ in the parlor. I prefer to choose my own men to soothe my aches, if you don’t mind. At least they follow orders and back off when told.”

All pretense of good humor vanished. The temperature seemed to drop several degrees as his eye narrowed menacingly. The softness of his words lent them extra weight. “I do mind. Be advised, lady, if I hear of any soothing going on, your lover will pay for it.”

They had entered a little-used hall. A glance about showed they were alone, so she stopped and demanded, “What do you mean?”

Without moving, he shrank the space between them. “Ally Cat, you should know.”

The mention of one of her least favorite aliases made her eyes narrow. “So you expect a show of faithfulness while you run amuck, savoring your own pleasures?” His hypocrisy infuriated her. According to rumor, Roland had been nominated “Realm’s Least Likely to Join a Monastery”. His reputation made hers seem saint-like by comparison.

Serious as a eulogy, he slowly shook his head. “We’ll both behave ourselves. Until this year is out and our contest is decided, the only appetites we’ll be sating is what we satisfy together.”

Bemused, she could only blink at him. That was one of the oddest things she’d heard a man say in years. It sounded like he wanted constancy. Fidelity.

Or maybe he’d just sampled one too many of Lady Gandulf’s brandied tarts.

He searched her eyes, perhaps confirming that she’d completely understood him. Without another word, he nodded and left her standing in the passage.

She shook her head. Strange man. Maybe he truly had suffered a blow to the head, because he’d never been this possessive before his years of warring. He was certainly suffering delusions if he thought she’d do anything other than what she pleased.

Shaking off his gloomy warnings, she straightened her shoulders and went on her way. Men, she’d long ago learned, were beyond understanding. If Roland persisted in trying to force his will on her, he was going to be in for a nasty surprise.

Allyson the Brassy yielded to no one.

***

Roland released his falcon and watched it soar into the gray skies. A cold wind ruffled the hair that escaped the hood of his cloak, but at least the snow was powder and easy on the elk. A warmer day would have made riding a slushy experience. Wind-borne, stinging snow was better than wet boots and cold feet.

Daniel had been his sympathetic and mostly silent hunting companion, but once he’d released his hawk, that changed.

“So, you took tea with Gandulf and your lady. I’m surprised you changed your mind so quickly about her.” Daniel tugged on the cuff of his leather falconer’s glove. Without looking up, he said casually, “I wonder why.”

While Daniel might have engineered the encounter, Roland didn’t feel it entitled him to any updates. Some things were none of his business. So he answered flippantly, “You need look no farther than the woman’s chest. I swear I haven’t seen peaks like that since the Alps.”

A choked noise accompanied Daniel’s wide stare. “You want her for her breasts?”

Roland smirked. “You were expecting something more poetic? You’re becoming quite the woman in your old age, brother.”

“Mouthy pup! I suppose your decision had nothing to do with staking your claim? I was surprised that you fought the annulment.”

“I live to surprise you.” Roland’s bird dove like a bolt of lightning and rose with prey in its talons. Rather like he planned to do with the man who’d betrayed him and Ally both. Their marriage was a convenient way to stay close to her and watch. Besides, it was fun to rile her.

“I realize the passes to Riverdell are blocked at the moment, but I found some information you will find useful. The name of the man who collected the yearly tithes on your behalf is Thorone, and he lives near Barough. You’ll recall it’s a two-day ride from Riverdell, near Van Sadis land.”

Roland tensed. Barough. He’d heard that name before. The falcon came to him and he lifted his arm to provide a perch and sent it off again, hardly aware of what he was doing. One of the men who’d sold him to slavers had called his leader ‘Barough’.

There was blood on the snow. He bent to pick up the fat partridge his bird had killed. He could hardly wait until spring.