Lord of a Thousand Nights
This scene occurs right after Ian has saved Reyna from being abducted by the knight she thought was going to protect her.
"Put the man on it. I will take the lady," Ian said. He was still angry, but she didn't care in her gratitude that she would not have to ride alone through the night.
"Who is he?" he asked as he lifted her onto his horse.
"Sir Reginald."
He swung up behind. His arms circled her as he took the reins. "Your husband's knight? Edmund's brother? Hell. Still, it makes more sense than the Hospitaller." He began leading the little troop back to Black Lyne Keep. "Why did he tie you up? Didn't he trust his lover to complete the bargain she had struck before the murder of her husband? I give the man credit and must congratulate him on seeing more clearly than me."
His words barely penetrated. She felt as if her spirit had been wrung dry of all emotion and caring. It hung inside her like a damp cloth impervious to any wind, even that of Ian's anger.
She huddled against him all the way back to the keep, knowing only relief that he had come, had found her, and had saved her from the terror.
Come with me, girl. You will be safe and will never be frightened like this again.
Ian handed Reyna over to two servants who took her upstairs. He gave Gregory orders to have Reginald treated for his wounds but locked in the prison cell beneath the kitchen. Then he climbed the steps with a mind black with fury.
He stared at Reyna's door. If he entered that chamber . . . . Only the echo of her terrified screams when he found her made him hesitate. All the same, violent, angry, and insulted passion almost submerged his better sense. With snarling resolve he entered the solar instead.
A night candle glimmered in the shadows. The books had been stacked aside, and a cup of wine and some bread set on the table.
He sensed a movement and turned around. Margery lay on his bed, her snug cotehardie flowing around her curves. She rose up on one arm and looked at him.
"Did you find her?" Her tone held something other than concern.
"I found her." He met her bold gaze. Her red hair fell in soft waves over her shoulders. She was not a stupid woman, but then all women could read men well in these things. This one knew whom he really wanted. It mattered to her, and that was the problem.
He waited for her to rise and leave. She didn't.
"Soon you will be returned to your husband," he said, reminding her of the cost. "I will do nothing to stop that."
She did not reply, and he wondered if she didn't believe him. Maybe she thought she could change his mind. With many women there was a fine line between him using them and them using him, and with this lady that edge would be very blurred. For one thing, it had occurred to him that the most likely people to have killed Robert of Kelso, besides Reyna, were Thomas and Margery. Thomas would be the Armstrong to whom Maccus would give these lands if they were free, and his relentless insistence on Reyna's guilt suggested he wanted her dead as well as Robert. They had not been at Black Lyne Keep when Robert died, but someone else could have done it for them.
The flickering light played over the hill of her hip and the dipping cloth on her breast. Her eyes held a blatant invitation.
He debated, but not very long.
He heard the door open, and rose up on his arm.
A glimmering candle moved through the room as Reyna glided into the space between the bed and the hearth. Her beautiful hair fell like brushed silk down to her hips. She wore the thin gown she had donned as the courtesan Melissa, and he could make out the fine stitching where it had been mended at the shoulder. She moved toward him, her gaze lowered, with an indescribable expression of warmth and resolve on her face.
Margery noticed the intruder and giggled.
Reyna looked up. Her gaze flashed over the bed.
She turned away and didn't miss a step as she aimed for the table. "Forgive me for intruding. I thought you were still in the hall. I came to fetch a book."
He knew that wasn't true. She picked up the top book, not even looking at it, and turned back to the door, managing not to see the bodies entwined ten paces away.
He watched the dignified retreat of the dream made real. An invisible hand squeezed his heart. She had come to him, for whatever reason, and he knew that she never would again.
Margery sighed in mock exasperation. "Really, you naughty boy. It is very unkind to make us line up."
The door closed softly behind Reyna. Ian looked down at the smug satisfaction in Margery's eyes.
"Get out," he said, moving aside. "I am done with you."
Copyright © Madeline Hunter