Sir Gregory Arundell was the last person in the world that Maira wanted to see right now. Especially in her bed!

“My lord,” she said in surprise, not knowing why he was there or what he wanted.

“I came to escort you to the great hall for the meal,” he drawled. “When there was no answer at the door, I entered to find you were missing again.”

“I didn’t leave the castle walls, honest, I didn’t,” she told him, not wanting to be punished again. “I just went out for a walk in the courtyard to see the sunrise.”

“Really? It’s funny none of my men saw you there.” He slid off the bed and that’s when she noticed his sword attached to his waist belt. He noticed she wore hers as well. “Is it common for you to walk for pleasure inside the security of the castle walls saddled down with weapons I told you not to wear again?”

“I always wear my weapons. They were given to me by my father and make me feel comforted.”

“We both know damned well that the jeweled dagger was not given to you by your father. That belonged to my wife, Lady Catherine. It was stolen years ago and I think I know who did it.” He stepped closer to her and she took a step away.

“I am sure I don’t know what you mean.”

“Who gave it to you?”

“It was given to me as a gift at Rothbury. It was from a titled man although I can’t remember his name.” What she said wasn’t all a lie, just a twisted version of the truth.

“Are you sure it wasn’t from a thief by the name of Jacob? Because if I find you have been meeting with him in secret, there will be hell to pay.”

“Who is Jacob?” she asked, trying to keep the quaver from her voice as well as to sound convincing that she had no idea of the man. “I don’t know who you mean.”

“Sir Jacob Quincey is now nothing more than an outcast and a thief because he murdered a bishop three years ago, as well as tried to steal my wife.”

“He did what?” She hadn’t known about the wife part.

“That’s right.” The man straightened his tunic and fixed his weapon belt. “He’s a murderer who likes to steal things that don’t belong to him. You’d do well to remember that. Now, give me my late wife’s dagger.” He held out his open palm. When she did nothing to hand it over, he reached for it.

“Nay,” she said, pulling her sword from the sheath on her back. It was an involuntary reaction for her to draw her blade whenever she felt threatened. But when she saw the look of anger in the High Sheriff’s eyes, she wished she hadn’t reacted so quickly.

“You’d better not pull a blade on me unless you intend to use it. So, let’s see how good you are with the thing.” He chuckled and drew his sword, lunging for her in one swift motion. He took her by surprise. If she hadn’t moved to the side quickly, he would have struck her.

“You’d really strike down your own betrothed?” she spat. “What kind of a man are you?”

“What kind of a woman are you that you carry so many weapons and then refuse to use them? Fight me, or I’ll have you flayed.”

“I cannot believe what I’m hearing.”

“Do it,” growled the man, lunging at her again.

This time, Maira didn’t hesitate. She raised her sword and blocked his blow. The sound of metal clashing against metal echoed through the room. He continued to come after her, backing her into a corner.

“Not bad . . . for a wench!” he commented with a chuckle. Then he came at her fast and furious as if he had gone mad. She did all she could to hold him off, but with her back against the wall and nowhere to go, there wasn’t much she could do.

He reached out and flung her to the ground and then covered her body with his. “I will break your spirit, wench, one way or another.” He forced his dry, cracked lips upon hers as he kissed her. She closed her eyes and turned her head, unable to move because he had her pinned down. She was a small woman and without her weapons she was no match for any man.

Not wanting to succumb to the evil man, she did whatever she could to stop him. She bit his lip, drawing blood. The iron tang assaulted her tongue. He screamed out and sat up. When he did, she brought her knee up to meet with his groin. When he doubled over in pain, she shot to her feet, grabbing her sword once again.

“My lord,” came a man’s voice from outside the door.

“What is it?” the High Sheriff yelled, holding one hand to his groin and the other to his lip.

“The men are in the practice yard waiting for you so they can begin.”

“This is far from over,” snapped Sir Gregory through gritted teeth, getting to his feet. He reached out and snatched the jeweled dagger from her. Rather than fight him again, she let him have it. “Now, take off your sword and daggers and put them on the bed. I will send one of my guards to collect them.”

“I won’t,” she objected.

“You will do it, if I have to take them by force.”

When he reached out for her, she backed away. She didn’t want him touching her again. “All right, I’ll do it,” she snapped, unclasping the buckle of the halter, removing her sword first. “But when my father hears about this, you’ll be the one with hell to pay. He won’t let you treat me this way.” She tossed the sword onto the bed and then did the same with her daggers.

The man seemed to think about this for a moment. No one wanted one, or possibly all three bastards of the crown coming after him. Her words must have concerned him because he changed his decision.

“I will let you keep the weapons but you cannot remove them from this room. If I find that to be true, I will take them from you no matter what your father says. You have one last chance to correct your behavior. Do you understand? No wife of mine will be wielding blades.”

Maira nodded, biting her tongue hard to keep quiet, trying to restrain herself from saying what she really wanted to say. If she spoke now, she would most likely offend him again and then her weapons would be confiscated for good.

“Meet me later in the great hall for the meal, Wife.”

“I’m not your wife,” she said under her breath.

“We’re going to remedy that sooner than you think.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, feeling the thumping of her rapidly beating heart all the way up to her throat.

“What I mean is that in three days’ time, I will have the Bishop of Durham here to help celebrate St. Catherine’s Day. I am leaving in the morning for a few days to collect him and escort him back to the castle. But as soon as we return, he will perform the ceremony that will make you my wife.”

“Nay, you can’t do that,” she protested. “I was granted permission from the late King Edward to choose which man I marry. I cannot be forced.”

“On the contrary, I have sent a request to King Richard to revoke that privilege since Edward is dead.”

“Richard is my cousin. He won’t agree to that.”

“Are you so sure? Because I believe that he will.”

“Sir Jacob, you can’t keep sneaking inside the castle or you’re going to get caught.” Will followed behind Jacob as they stopped their horses at the edge of the woods just before reaching Durham Castle.

“I have to,” said Jacob, dismounting and wrapping a dark cloak around him. “I think I made a mistake by telling Lady Maira my plan. I did it impulsively without thinking it through. I have to make sure she doesn’t reveal my secret to the High Sheriff, or all my hard work will be for naught.”

“Do you really think she’d tell?”

“I don’t know. I thought I could convince her to side with me, but now I’m not so sure.”

“Just let it go,” Will urged him. “It is taking away from our training back at camp. The festival is in a few days and the villagers need more help to prepare for the attack.”

“Nay.” Jacob shook his head, looking at the ground. “I can’t concentrate, because all I can think about is Lady Maira.”

“You are infatuated with the girl, and that’s not good.” Will shook his head and made a tsking sound with his mouth. “She is going to be your undoing, my lord.”

“Nay, I don’t think so.” Jacob hoped Will wasn’t right. “If I can just talk to her once more, I am sure I can get her to see things my way.”

“And if she doesn’t?” asked Will. “Then what will you do?”

Jacob ran a weary hand through his hair, narrowing his eyes and surveying the castle. “I don’t want to think about that. All I know is that I have strong feelings for Maira, though I barely know her. I can’t and I won’t let her marry the High Sheriff. He took Catherine from me and I’ll not let him take Maira as well.”

“I think this is more about a vendetta against the High Sheriff than anything else.”

“Not true.”

“You don’t need to worry,” Will told him. “I hear the daughters of the bastard triplets have been granted permission to agree to whom they marry.”

“Then I’ll convince her to marry me instead.” Jacob felt possessed by this woman and he couldn’t let it go.

“Marry you? Why would she marry you?”

“Because I am going to be not only the lord of the castle, but High Sheriff, too. She’ll want me. I’ll make sure she does.”

“If she only wanted a man who was lord of the castle and High Sheriff then she would marry Sir Gregory, wouldn’t she?”

God, Jacob hoped not. He needed to talk to Maira and explain to her everything that happened because he didn’t think she really believed him. The last thing he wanted was for her to think he killed a bishop, which is something he would never do.

“I’m going to tell her everything, Will.”

“Everything?” asked Will in surprise. “Are you sure that’s a wise idea? It might do the opposite and frighten her away.”

“I want her to know everything about me before she makes her choice of whom to marry. I don’t want to keep secrets from the woman I want to be my wife.”

Maira sat at the dais next to Sir Gregory later that day for the meal, watching the High Sheriff make a fool of himself.

“More wine,” he said, raising his goblet. He shared a trencher and cup with Maira as was custom. But after seeing how he ate like a pig, she didn’t want to touch anything on her plate let alone the goblet. “Bring more venison and squirrel stew,” ordered the man, waving a hand in the air. He clamped his greasy fingers over the goblet taking a big swallow of wine. Then he handed the cup to her.

“Nay, but thank you,” she said, flashing a smile. “I’m not feeling well and don’t think I’ll eat or drink anything. If you don’t mind I’d like to go back to my chamber and lie down.”

“Go!” the man snorted. “But don’t even think of leaving the castle because I’ve put extra men on patrol to make certain you don’t try to sneak out again.”

“Of course not,” she said, pushing up from her chair. When she did, she heard little Ricker crying from across the great hall.

“Shut him up,” called out Sir Gregory. “I tire of hearing the boy cry all the time. Take him to the bedchamber and keep him there for the rest of the night.”

That angered Maira. She turned back to the man. “If you’d treat your son a little kinder then mayhap he wouldn’t be so frightened of you that he has to cry.”

“He’s not frightened of me. And I’m his father and will treat him however I want.”

“Well, I don’t like it.” She put her hands on her hips.

“Really.” He looked at her over the edge of the goblet and slowly put the cup down. “And how do you suggest I treat the boy?”

“A good father would protect his son. He would take him on outings and spend time getting to know him instead of constantly pushing him away. Instead of punishing the lad, you could try . . . playing with him. Aye,” she said with a nod of her head. “I’m sure little Ricker would like that.”

“I see.” He perused her, chewing his food and licking his lips. “Then that is what we’ll do.”

“Good,” she said, feeling as if she’d done something to help the boy.

“While I’m away, you will take the nursemaid’s place and tend to the boy yourself.”

“Me?” Maira asked in surprise. “But I thought –”

“Starting tomorrow morning, Ricker will be at your side every minute of the day.”

“Why me?” she asked.

“Because you will soon be his mother, just like you said. So you will play with him, go on outings, and do whatever it takes to make him happy and stop his bloody crying.”

“But that’s not what I meant.” Maira didn’t want to take care of a toddler. She needed to plan her escape and a way to get out of marrying the cur. She didn’t want to be saddled with taking care of his offspring as well.

“You’ll do it. Now, go to bed since you aren’t feeling well. In the morning, the nursemaid will bring the boy to you and you’ll take care of him until my return.”

“Aye, my lord,” she said softly, making her way down the dais. Once again, her mouth had gotten her into a situation where she didn’t want to be involved.

Maira made her way quickly out of the great hall, heading toward her solar. As she passed by the corridor with the tapestry hiding the secret entrance to the tunnel, she swore from the corner of her eye she saw the wall tapestry move.

“Tommy?” she whispered, looking over her shoulder and then down the dark corridor. She wanted to make certain the boy was all right after what he went through the other day. She also wanted to apologize since she promised him a pair of shoes and he still didn’t have any.

Going back to her chamber was probably the wise thing to do, but her curiosity and longing to see the little boy and his mother again made her head down the darkened corridor instead of up the stairs to her bedchamber.

Looking over her shoulder once more, she pushed aside the wall hanging and slipped through the small opening into the tunnel.

“I wish I would have brought a candle,” she mumbled to herself, heading down the dark passageway made of stone. The floor beneath her feet was nothing but earth. Using her hand on the wall as a guide, she slowly continued forward. Before long, she heard a noise behind her and stopped. “Tommy? Is that you?” When she had no answer, her heart picked up in pace. “Who’s there?” she called out a bit louder, wishing for her weapons at a time like this.

She turned around to head back out the entrance and when she did she crashed into someone. As she opened her mouth to scream, a large hand covered her mouth.

“Don’t make another peep,” mumbled a deep voice in her ear.