Chapter Six
Upon his return to Braven, Rory noticed something was amiss. The castle guards would not return direct looks. Mary scampered away terrified of him. Everyone seemed too preoccupied to even spare him a moment. Rory entered his hall with a sinking feeling. His suspicions and disappointment mounted as even Constantine was not there to greet him.
“Mary,” Rory boomed. The woman was huddled in a far off corner. “Fetch me my wife.”
“I cannot, my lord,” Mary all but whimpered.
Rory looked at her astounded. Would she dare to be so insubordinate? Obviously he had been too lax in his discipline of the servants. He approached her angrily, his intent clear.
“Does my sister hide to escape your wrath?” Juliette demanded. She became positive by his dark and somewhat sinister looks the rumors must in fact be true.
“Hold your tongue.” Rory snarled. He cared not Juliette cowered back. He wanted his wife. His ill-fated look returned to Mary. His eyebrows narrowed ferociously. “You will produce my wife.”
“She cannot, my lord,” came a deep calm voice.
Rory spun about to seek from whom it came. He stared intently at a large knight who stepped before him. The large man stood unafraid. Mary turned and fled from the room as Rory became distracted.
“Why can she not?” Rory asked with soft menace. He was familiar with this knight. Though Rory bested him on the field the man was a worthy opponent.
“Your wife, our lady, appears to have been kidnapped,” the knight replied.
“What treachery is this?” Devon demanded of the man.
“’Tis not treachery, my Lord Devon, ’tis justice,” the knight replied.
“What mean you justice?” Rory asked.
“We grew tired of the animosity you threw at our lady. We sought only to defend her,” the man responded arrogantly. Though he cared nothing for the lass’s wellbeing, he only wished to anger Rory as he had the help of the others behind him. This should drop the all-powerful and legendary Lord Rory Broc down a peg or two. His wife had been stolen right out from under his lordly nose.
Rory’s thoughts raced. His animosity? He loved Constantine with all of his being. Now she was gone. Yet where? Her father would have returned her, of this he was positive. Who had his precious wife? Was she safe? Damnation, she must be terrified without his protection. She had no way to defend herself. She must be so frightened and alone, curled in a corner whimpering for him to save her, and sobbing gently as threats would have been cast at her howling. A tiny hand pressed to her quivering mouth to quell any noise. Silent tears trailing their way down pale silken cheeks. Rory’s chest near burst as his reasoning left him. He threw back his head and howled out the most blood curdling battle cry of his life. He then launched himself while taking flight at the smug-looking knight whose eyes widened in shocked surprise.
Juliette screamed in terror. By God, she had thought Constantine the only one to possess such mutated vocal cords. His lord’s own had her dear sister’s pale in comparison. No wonder she feared him so. Juliette watched in horror as Lord Broc pummeled the huge man before him. Two other men tried to offer aid to the knight to no avail, Rory made short work of them, they were also given a sound thrashing as Rory smashed his head into one and fists and foot into more.
Still he continued his rampage of the huge knight. One smash to his nose had blood splatter in all directions. Rory lifted his foot and kicked into the belly of another who sought to aid the knight. He downed a new man with one solid blow to the head knocking him senseless. Rory was beyond reason. He battled as no other had seen him battle afore, his strength an awesome and frightening sight to behold.
“Do something,” Juliette cried to Devon, her small hands clutched at his tunic, she was half hidden behind him.
“Why on earth for? Rory is in no danger,” Devon replied with a touch of smugness. Most certainly they had it coming. They really should not have allowed his wife to be taken. Most assuredly they should be grateful Rory had not pulled his sword.
“He is killing his own men,” Juliette cried.
“Nonsense. Look, that one still moves,” Devon replied. Sure enough when Juliette looked a poor man was crawling away in defeat. Yet a solid blow to his belly from Rory had him huddled over now motionless.
“Who else seeks my wrath?” Rory growled, his facial features twisted into a hideous scowl of rage. All could tell the next one to be downed would never breathe again. Juliette was positive every long strand of hair on her head was now standing tall. By God, she had never encountered such a man. He prowled the room as though stalking his victims. His motion sheer stealth, every movement calculated. His people shook as one, their eyes widened in fear. The knights lay sprawled upon the floor. The large knight who had first challenged him lay slumped. Rory grabbed him up by his bloodied tunic and lifted him up off his feet as though he were but a small child.
“Where is my wife?” he growled into his face and shook him roughly.
“’Tis no wonder Constantine fears you so,” Juliette whispered on an awed breath.
Rory dropped the knight and spun about to face her. “The only thing my beloved Constantine feared was her separation from you. Now she is gone. But God as my witness, I will retrieve her. This I vow.”
Juliette sucked in her breath at his agonized expression. Lord have mercy, he, Lord Horrible, loved her sister. As surprised as she was, none was more shocked than his own people. Rory glanced about the room in disgust. He had tried so hard to win them over. They had failed him. Yet he had failed Constantine. It would never happen again. Saddened, though his shoulders were held high, Rory stormed from the room. He would go to his chamber and deftly search for clues.
Once gone, Devon’s own anger exploded. “Do you realize what you have done? Can you even comprehend the consequences of your actions?” His furious gaze was then leveled on the huge knight now struggling to stand. “Get you gone from my sight and never return.”
Once upright the knight retrieved his fallen man from the ground and both limped out of the castle. Devon glared at each other man individually. “Any who wish to join them may do so,” he ground out coldly in disgust.
The others slumped, sat or lay feeling solemn. Perhaps their actions had been a tad hasty and judgmental. The harsh coldness of winter would soon be upon them. ’Twas not a good time of the year to have no home. They dispersed shortly, not quite sure how to rectify the situation.
“Why did you not seek to aid your brother?” Juliette questioned astounded.
“Why did you not? You kick like a mule and no doubt would have been of great help,” Devon replied.
Juliette’s look became enraged. “You liken me to an animal?”
“Nay, not all of you, just your legs, perhaps your teeth,” Devon said smiling. Juliette launched herself at him, yet Devon had been prepared for the attack. He captured her easily, shifting her bottom half to the side. “Calm yourself, my little berserker. My brother did not need my help, of this you must be certain. His own people turned on him for nothing. He does care a great deal for your sister. If you know of her whereabouts I would be very grateful if you would but tell me.” Devon set her right and gazed into her eyes.
Juliette looked up at him at a loss. She had no idea who would risk the wrath of such an amazingly powerful warrior. Most assuredly it must be someone completely daft!
* * * *
Rory prowled around his chamber restlessly. He picked up Constantine’s pillow and breathed deeply her sweet scent. His head bowed dejectedly. He wanted nothing more than to take her small body into his embrace and hold her clasped tight to his chest. She would know beyond doubt she was then safe from harm. He slumped upon the bed, his head resting within his hands.
“My lord?” came a cautious voice.
Rory looked up as Mary hesitantly entered the room. She took in his lost expression, his devastation, and aloneness. She felt guilt consume her. “You care for the lass,” she said awed.
“Aye, Mary,” he replied.
“Yet you worked her to exhaustion,” Mary said with an air of confusion.
“Nay, Mary, she sought the work to help her deal with the loss of her dear sister,” Rory said. A revelation dawned as to why his people were so aggrieved with him.
“Her bruising?” Mary asked.
“A terrible mistake,” Rory answered, consumed with guilt. Aye, he had bruised her. Another mark against him.
“You threatened her in the great hall, we all heard,” Mary said, trying to understand.
“Nay, Mary. No threats have I uttered to her. We were sorely pressed to hear over the noise she created ’tis all,” Rory said on a sigh. He returned the pillow to its place of rest and ran a large hand over his face.
“I fear we have been unjust, my lord. In seeking to aid our dear lady we have placed her very heart at risk,” Mary said saddened. The harder she thought, the more she realized the Lady Constantine’s bravery was based in love and trust, and perhaps the longing of her sister as her lord suggested.
“Mary, do you know of your ladies whereabouts?” Rory said with hesitant excitement. He approached her carefully, without any animosity lest he frighten her.
“Aye, my lord. Never fear, she is fine. We too care for her a great deal and would not put her in danger. She but remains in the care of Lord Nicholas Christopher. Lady Juliette’s own betrothed,” Mary said, now smiling.
Bewildered at first, Rory’s first reaction was to grab up his steed, race to the castle and run the man through. Yet he realized the man most probably had Juliette’s wellbeing in mind. Damnation, if the man cared for Juliette this much, he would never let the lass go. Poor Constantine. Perhaps they could put aside this one transgression and allow their little wives to visit after all.
Rory’s first concern was to retrieve Constantine. He hoped she had not been as frightened as Juliette had been. He would then indeed be forced to run the man through. Perhaps they could meet on the field. The king would not be overly happy if they were to do damage to one another. He must take some time to think on a plan. Lord Christopher’s army was impressive. If Rory were the only one to enter into battle he would be demolished. That could not be helped. He would not risk his brother’s life. Rory would go alone. He would eat, rest, and face his opponents. Though positive his dearest wife must be terrified without him close by, Rory felt certain Lord Christopher would not dare harm one so defenseless. There would be no honor in that. Lord Campbell would not wed a daughter of his to one who possessed no honor, he was certain.
* * * *
Juliette was shown to a lovely chamber down the hall from Devon. After they dined, Devon led her through the halls, her small hand poised upon his arm. Rory had chosen to eat in his own chamber. They walked into the large room where the hearth burnt brightly against the cold companionably and Juliette turned to stare up into his face. She noticed how truly remarkable his features were. His wavy blond locks glowed in the torchlight. Juliette had never gazed into such clear blue eyes. She was also impressed her pummeling of his nose had left no mark. Most assuredly, he must be very strong not to have been bruised by her vicious and deadly assault.
“I am sorry if I hurt you,” Juliette said in earnest. Suddenly she felt an overwhelming sense of embarrassment. Her emotions became confused.
“I am uninjured, fear not. Yet whether I am still able to sire offspring remains to be seen,” Devon replied with a smile.
“It would be a shame, my lord, if you proved unable. The earth would be deprived of such comely children,” Juliette said ducking her head.
“Fear not, my lady, I will endeavor to procreate,” Devon said and laughed as she blushed deeply.
“Of this I am certain,” Juliette replied.
Devon kissed her hand and bid her goodnight. He closed her door behind him whilst Mary aided her with her night clothes.
“’Tis you who sent word of my sister,” Juliette enquired of Mary.
“Aye, my lady. Please do not think harshly of me. My actions were noble if unfounded,” she replied with embarrassment. “I have come to care a great deal for your gentle sister. Actions transpired that led me to believe she was being ill-treated.”
“She was not,” Juliette said with conviction. She could not get Lord Broc’s agonized expression from her mind.
“Nay, my lady. Please forgive me. I only sought to protect her,” Mary replied, so terribly saddened Juliette had not the heart to be angry.
“’Tis not my forgiveness you needs must seek. Knowing my sister she would not begrudge a mistake made of caring,” Juliette said kindly.
Mary offered her a smile so filled with gratitude Juliette could not resist hugging the woman. She then left Juliette alone to seek her slumber.
* * * *
“Do not fret so, my brother. No one would dare harm her,” Devon said.
“No, they would dare not,” Rory replied, eyes narrowed.
Devon was hard-pressed not to shudder at Rory’s intensity. He sat at the great table sharpening his broad sword with long easy strokes. Rory’s gaze was centered. His thoughts focused.
“I am truly sorry brother,” Devon said.
“’Tis nothing,” Rory replied.
Devon knew it was. He had been betrayed by his own people. Those he had sworn to protect. They had allowed another to take his gentle wife knowing she would be afraid and unable to defend herself. Taken her callously while he was away and had only offered to aid in her wellbeing. He cared nothing they only sought to protect her in their ignorance. They had not even bothered to confront him they were so cowardly.
“What do you intend?” Devon asked.
“I intend to retrieve my wife,” Rory ground out. He was not in the mood for a discussion.
“Brother,” Devon began.
“What, brother?” Rory suddenly snapped; his head rose to offer Devon a foreboding look. “I return home and am outraged that my people suffer. Little ones are gaunt and in need of clothing. Homes falling apart, the castle a mess. Winter is approaching, nipping at heels, and I saw the distress. I had hoped their fear of me would lessen not intensify. I acquire a wife of wealth for them, not even having laid eyes upon her, hoping to gain a dowry that would ensure their existence. I strive to show my men I will fight alongside them without failing if needs be. I only ask loyalty. ’Tis so much to ask? I will retrieve my beloved Constantine alone.”
“Nay, you will not face an entire army alone!” Devon cried fearfully. “I will stand with you.”
“Nay, my dearest brother. I have already lost my wife. I could not stand the loss of my brother and best friend as well,” Rory said. “I need time to plan.” Rory rose to his feet and placed a hand on Devon’s shoulder. He then walked from the hall solemnly and retired for the night.
Devon also rose to leave. His head slumped forward dejectedly. He knew not what to do.
Another had been in the shadows watching in silence. She gritted her teeth with conviction. This terrible wrong must be righted. They had judged him even before they had met him. Mary left the castle on swift feet, thoughts of slumber forgotten, she too needed time to plan. They had been sorely unfair to their lord. This must not continue. She had much work that needs must be done.
* * * *
Mary was not the only one to be slinking amongst the castle grounds in the early hours. Rosecliff felt gratified he remained undiscovered. The entire castle seemed to be in an upheaval. Rosecliff only prayed it was not due to the Lady Juliette’s excessive use of vocal cords, although it would serve Broc right. He should never have stolen his lord’s betrothed. Though the thought still nagged that Broc might have done them a favor. Nevertheless, Rosecliff was on a quest for his lord. He needs must discover if the Lady Juliette did indeed bay like ten packs of wolves at a full moon.
Stealthily, Rosecliff wandered the halls until he had come about Broc’s brother helping Juliette retire for the night in the late evening. Their exchange had been brief which led Rosecliff to ponder yet again. He himself would strive to engage in conversation with one so beautiful. Perhaps Broc’s brother was daft. Rosecliff remained pressed near a wall until the serving maid retired. He waited, biding his time until before dusk, when the castle settled, until he felt certain Lady Juliette slumbered. He then, with stealth, approached her room. Rosecliff opened her chamber door. He entered quietly and could hear the lass’s softly expelled breath. On careful feet, he made his way to the bed. Juliette lay sleeping. Her angelic features bathed in the moonlight. Rosecliff smiled down at her still form. How beautiful she was. Whether or not she bellowed as one dying as if tortured, he could not help but feel sympathy for her. Poor lass would no doubt be terrified of him. He was so much larger than the gentle child. He must painstakingly go to great measures so as not to frighten her. Rosecliff placed a gentle large hand over Juliette’s mouth.
She awoke instantly. Juliette could make out the man’s large features in silhouette against the lone candle light and slightly flickering hearth fire. She was unaware of his identity and Juliette became frightened. Fearing another kidnapping was eminent, Juliette waited not. Both small feet came up swiftly and deftly slammed into her aggressor’s belly. Aware from her last attack she had not much time, Juliette took hold and plunged her sharp teeth into the man’s hand. He pulled back to disengage her and managed to successfully dislodge her grip. Juliette lunged directly for the man’s hair feeling this was still the greatest tactical move.
Rosecliff howled, taken off guard by her vicious assault, ’twas not a woman but a demon come to life! He danced back quickly while Juliette clung to his hair swinging wildly about the room. Rosecliff grabbed at her wrists to release the pressure on his hair yet was unprepared as Juliette slammed her foot solidly into his groin. Groaning loudly Rosecliff doubled over and slumped to the cold floor.
“Has it never occurred to you just to yell?” Devon enquired. He stood nonchalantly, hair tousled from sleep, in his breeches, bare chested, leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his massive chest. At first hearing the struggles emanating from Juliette’s room, he was concerned and had raced to save her. Though seeing the distress of the poor man, Devon felt a certain empathy for him.
“You could have offered aid.” Juliette glared at him, breathing heavily.
“How true. My good man, do you require aid?” Devon asked down at Rosecliff as he groaned once more.
“Be serious,” Juliette yelled outraged.
“I am serious, my dear. The poor man looks as though he will never sire children,” Devon said and smiled deviously. Indeed, poor Rosecliff still rolled about on the floor in agony.
“She has killed me,” he squeaked.
“Nonsense man, she has not killed you. That privilege belongs to my brother,” Devon informed him grimly. He put a hand under the man’s arm and pulled him to his feet. He then made his way to the door.
“What about me?” Juliette demanded as the men moved toward the door, her face reddened in frustration and embarrassment, she stomped a foot.
“Does thou thirst for more action, my little berserker? Perhaps later today you could decapitate some hapless nights. Or tussle with a bear. How does thou feel about wrestling with wild boars?” Devon laughed and ducked, slamming her door as a hairbrush was thrown wildly at him.
* * * *
“What do you here?” Rory demanded angrily as the sun rose, dressing, while his brother brought a strange man into his bed chambers. He had only just fallen asleep so great was his worry for his beloved. Only to be awakened by a new threat. Again his people had let him down by allowing yet another intruder to breach his walls.
Rosecliff shrank back terrified. The man looked wild. He had been told of Broc’s reputation. He did not want his head mounted and paraded around on a pike for all to see.
“I only bring word to Lady Juliette,” he whimpered. “Please, my lord, have mercy.”
“What word have you?” Rory asked coldly. It was no doubt how to sneak Juliette away.
Rosecliff shuddered. He had no choice. “My lord seeks to know of Juliette’s...”
“Juliette’s what?” Rory demanded.
“Her...voice.”
Confused, Rory stopped his tirade. Her voice? What was this nonsense?
“What mean you he seeks to know of her voice?” Rory growled, now positive the man was stalling.
“’Tis the truth, my lord, this I swear,” Rosecliff whined. “Lord Christopher only wished to seek if the Lady Juliette suffers from the same ailment as your wife.”
“My lady wife is ill?” Rory asked with tremendous concern.
“She howls as one possessed. We have never heard the like. I fear the dead would rise again just to run. By the Saints, my lord, never has candle wax been so coveted, for one’s ears. I meant not to take Juliette, just ask her if she but howls as her sister. This I swear.” Rosecliff replied anxiously.
Devon threw back his head and howled with laughter. “’Tis not the sweet Juliette’s voice he needs must fear but her prowess. The lass fights like a mad wolf.”
Rory narrowed his eyes at him. “Be still brother, think you this is amusing? My poor wife only howls when in distress.”
“Begging your pardon, my lord, but ’tis Lord Christopher’s castle that is distressed,” Rosecliff answered annoyed. Most certainly his lord had never sought to purposely upset the banshee. He took offence Broc even thought such a thing.
Rory settled vicious eyes on the man who took note and shrunk back now terrified. “If any harm has come to my wife I will disembowel you. Tell me quickly how she fares.”
“She is well, my lord, I swear. She has been harmed not. Lord Nicholas only feared you would not take her back.” Rosecliff whimpered.
“Why would he think such a thing?” Rory asked incredulous. “She is my wife.”
“’Tis her caterwauling. When she lets loose, all reach for their swords fearing an attack is eminent. I am most certain half the castle is now deaf. Truly you wish her return?”
Rory grabbed the man up off his feet and glared deeply into his frightened eyes. “You tell your lord I demand the safe return of my wife. Send a message we are to meet on the field tomorrow after daybreak. Return swiftly or I will seek you out with your demise of the most importance on my mind. Do you understand?”
Rosecliff nodded quickly. He was then escorted roughly from the castle by both men.
“Think you he was lying?” Devon asked, a frown to his face.
“Nay, brother. Truly, who would make up such a ludicrous tale?” Rory replied.
“I have met Lord Christopher during the tournaments. He seems a decent enough sort of fellow. Perhaps he will allow Juliette to visit,” Devon said.
“Perhaps.”
“What think you Rory?”
“I have an uneasy feeling about Constantine.”
“Most certainly Lord Christopher will not cause her harm. Do not fret.”
“’Tis not that brother. My little wife may try and wreak some havoc on her own. He had best keep a close eye on her. Or I will be sorely vexed if she inadvertently causes herself harm.” Rory’s gaze again turned murderous. He could not shake the feeling poor Constantine was huddled in the shadows fearful without him. He was beginning his plans for her safe return.
* * * *
“Gregory, ’tis a mess. Constantine has been taken, I am told, to Lord Christopher’s, whilst Juliette now resides with Lord Broc. Have they all gone mad? Stealing two defenseless lasses in the middle of the night. What the devil are they about?” Emit cried and continued to pace erratically about the room.
“Calm yourself my friend. No harm has come to either. I am told both are quite well and causing their own damage,” Lord Campbell said soothingly. It was so like Emit to fuss as a mother hen.
“How can you remain so calm? The poor children are most likely terrified and sobbing somewhere all alone.” Emit ceased his pacing and looked close to shedding a few tears of his own. Though he knew the girls thought of him as overbearing, he remained steadfast in his conviction it had been in their best interest. He most assuredly loved them both. They were as close as he would ever get to having children of his own.
“Most certainly our dearest Constantine will be alone if she has been moved to tears,” Gregory said and chuckled.
“Oh my, think you she has howled?” Emit asked, eyes raised.
“Most certainly. I am told Lord Christopher’s household runs for cover when she but approaches,” Gregory replied.
“Oh dear.”
“I am also told Lord Broc’s men have taken to wearing protective devices when coming within reach of our gentle little Juliette.”
Emit scowled. Though happy Juliette appeared to be able to handle herself, the method was a bit un-seemly. He had not been happy at all one of their castle knights had endeavored to teach Juliette that particular move along with a few others. The gentle seasoned bear of a knight had daughters of his own and knew the perils some women faced. Regardless, Emit had thought it would only cause trouble in the future. Fortunately Constantine sought not the same activity. He was certain one bellow from her lips and the entire castle... if not those for miles, would come to her aid. Or perhaps by that time it would be her attacker who would require aid of his own.
“Should we seek an audience with the king?” Emit fretted.
“Nay. Fear not my friend. All will be well. Let the girls have their adventure. Soon enough both will be bound to their homes with babes of their own. Neither knight will allow harm to come to either, I’m certain else I would be donning my chainmail. Most assuredly it will be over soon. I am told our sweet little Constantine has been roaming the gardens. Lord Christopher’s people are a bit disgruntled...and gassy.” Gregory chuckled again.
“Spiteful little vixen,” Emit said with wide eyes. Though he had to wonder what they had deprived her of. He remembered one experience of his own when he sent her to bed without dinner. His tummy raged for days after. He really should have a word with the old crone in the village, Constantine adored, about her teachings.
“All will work itself out. I just hope neither blame the lasses for their transgressions. They are too close to be separated for long periods of time.” Gregory fretted over this. That was his largest concern. If someone became too angry and disallowed them communication he couldn’t fathom how they would retaliate. One of the reasons he agreed to Juliette’s betrothal was he felt certain both Broc and Christopher would allow them access to one another. Perhaps he was at fault for not making this point clear to both parties.
“You will think of something. Of this I am certain,” Emit offered kindly. He liked not the now saddened expression on Gregory’s face.
Gregory returned his friend’s gentle look. “Perhaps something will come to me.”
* * * *
Rosecliff sat his horse gingerly. Damnation, how could such a dainty foot cause such damage? He had been kicked by horses with less power behind their blow. His poor lord. Rosecliff knew not which was worse. The terrible ear-shattering battle cry or the berserker. He shifted uncomfortably. One thing was certain. It was going to take him a very long time to return home. Drat the vixen.
* * * *
A new day dawned bright and clear. Juliette wandered the castle restlessly. She was still aggrieved with Devon and his callous wit. The man seemed to be around every corner she took until she retired to her room the evening before. Lord Broc scowled at everyone’s approach, muttering to himself, then retired to his room, and Mary had not been about. Juliette was bored. She missed Constantine and wished she were here this very moment to help her occupy her time. Drat. All of whom roamed the castle gave her a wide berth. It was not her fault she had rendered one of the guards inactive yesterday. He really should not have snuck up on her. He claimed to only have been coming from the kitchen, but one never knew. The gentle knight who had taught her the battle move had told her men were sly devils. Yet when the man almost choked upon the apple piece he held within his mouth, it had given her a moment’s pause. Perhaps she had been a tad hasty. It was not her fault her nerves were shattered. One kidnaping and one attempted kidnaping would frazzle anyone.
“There you are, my little berserker,” Devon said with relief. He had been a bit fearful he had lost her.
Drat. Juliette thought she had finally lost him. “Why do you insist on following me about like a giant puppy?”
“Someone must keep a close eye on you. Rory took out half the castle guards; do you seek to take out the rest?” Devon chuckled as she turned crimson.
“’Twas not my fault. I was frightened.” Juliette said, her bottom lip drooping while she scowled.
“’Tis a good thing the man has sired offspring, or I fear his wife would be sorely vexed.”
Juliette grimaced with distaste. “I did the woman a favor. At least on last eve she would not have been in need of a bucket of water to clean her filthy sticky hands.”
Devon looked at her confused. A small smile then played on his lips. “My brother told me of your attempt to waylay him. Just what was it you and your sister were seeking?”
“We only wished his audience a short time,” Juliette mumbled, filled with embarrassment.
“I am certain he would have been quite informative whilst knocked senseless,” Devon teased.
Again Juliette blushed. She looked around hoping to spy an escape route. Devon saw her eyes dance about and to his own embarrassment for just an instant he refrained from lowering his hands to protect his manhood.
“Come now, I only play with you,” Devon said.
Juliette scowled. “If you seek play, my lord, perhaps we can find you a few knights to decapitate, perhaps a bear or some wild boars to tussle with.”
Devon threw back his head and laughed with delight. She was a charming little minx. Most of the women he met played coy. They batted their lashes and cast shy glances. The only thing Juliette seemed to bat was at himself. Lord Christopher was a lucky man. For some inexplicable reason, this thought angered Devon. He wondered just how fond of Lord Christopher Juliette was. It was obvious the lord must care a great deal for her having been so foolish as to kidnap Rory’s wife. Yet his man professed at wanting information on her vocal cords.
“Do you know much of your betrothed?” Devon asked.
“Nay. We have met a few times. I must admit my fear for Constantine was too great to offer much attention,” Juliette declared. She was rather surprised at the question. She noted how Devon’s look had gone from amusement to now anger. “Most certainly your brother cannot be more angered of Constantine’s taking than my betrothed is of mine.”
“Perhaps,” Devon said with a shuffle of feet.
“What is it you are not speaking of?” Juliette demanded.
Devon shrugged, then sighed. “Do you wish to know why that man was in your chamber?”
“I already know why. Lord Christopher sent him to save me, thinking I was in great peril,” Juliette said with a haughty toss of her long locks.
Devon chuckled at her vanity. “He sought only to find out if you bay as your dear sister does.”
Juliette grew outraged. “’Tis a lie.”
“Most assuredly, my little berserker, I am being quite truthful,” Devon replied, then laughed loudly as her anger exploded and she began to pace.
“He only sought to find out if I bellowed as Constantine? I am betrothed to a man who fears my vocal cords? What kind of knight fears battle cries?” Juliette yelled.
“A man who has never once engaged in real battle,” Devon said. He felt rather sorry for the little hellcat. It would not be easy on her knowing she might have a better chance in combat than her future husband.
Juliette glared at him. “You are enjoying this, are you not?”
“Nay. I seek only to offer you the truth,” Devon said with a kind smile.
Juliette was angry. He was enjoying her discomposure. Perhaps she should wipe that smug look off his face. Juliette lunged before Devon knew what she was about. She caught him soundly on his jaw with a small fist.
“Ouch,” both cried in unison. Devon rubbed at his jaw. Juliette leaned against the cold castle wall holding her paining hand. She was fighting back tears. By God, she felt as though she had punched solid stone.
“Damnation, Devon, cease your assaults on the poor gentle lass, she has been through enough,” Rory demanded as he strode forward. He had come looking for his brother and took note of Juliette’s near crumpled state. Devon moved his mouth like a fish, his eyes wide.
“It was her own doing,” he spluttered.
“Nonsense. I have seen no evidence the little lass fights like a mad wolf.” Rory growled. Indeed, soon he would have him believe she had downed a seasoned knight. Rory helped Juliette to walk with his hand about her waist leading her away.
Devon stood there scowling. He then laughed with merriment. The lass was amusing. Though his jaw pained, he would place a wager she would never again seek to strike him there. Although, he had better be prepared just in case. He’d be sorry to see her go.