Lords of Darkness and Shadow (98 page)

“We will marry, have no doubt. But these events….”

“Then if we will marry, I would do it now. Please, Sean. That way, no one can ever rightfully keep us apart.”

He hadn’t the will or the heart to refuse her.  He wanted it as badly as she did, probably more. William Marshall, therefore, had to amend his promise; it was difficult to say no to such a beautiful lady. Sean received his bride before finishing his task, leaving the task of breaking the news to Jocelin to the Marshall.  Though William didn’t mind that he was to be the bearer of unwelcome information, he minded the fact that his bargain was somehow twisted in Sean’s favor.

Even as Father Simon married Sean and Sheridan with Gilby and the Marshall as witness, still, William could only hope that Sean would follow through and keep his part of the bargain. Once, William had asked Sean to trust him. Now William would have to do the same.

But those thoughts were violently dashed as they quit the chapel and ran head-long into the king, preparing to take Vespers with his retainers. John took one look at Sheridan and Sean knew they were in for a world of trouble.

“… the game was afoot. I had stepped into a new world of deception and subversion that I could hardly begin to comprehend.  Everything I had worked for was in danger of shattering but, strangely enough, I did not care. I had my wife and that was all that mattered….”

The Chronicles of Sir Sean de Lara

1206 - 1215 A.D.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Sean had always thought fast on his feet. In his vocation, it was an essential and practiced skill.  As he looked at the king’s sagging face, his senses rapidly calculated the situation, the odds, and the path of most convincing progress. Never in his life had he faced something so critical; now it wasn’t only his life at stake, but his wife’s. He fought down his shock for the sake of thinking clearly.

The Marshall had not followed them from the chapel. He and Father Simon were still inside, aware that the king and his entourage were at the threshold. With the focus on Sean, they were able to slip away unseen. Realizing this, Sean’s peripheral senses reached out to Gilby and Sheridan, standing just to his right. The old man would be inconsequential to the king; he was one of the Tower physics, an old man that hardly presented a threat.

As Sean faced the king, many thoughts ran though his mind and it was a matter of selecting the most plausible one. He fixed John straight in the eye.

“Sire,” he said smoothly. “I was on my way to seek your audience.”

John wasn’t looking at Sean; he was looking at Sheridan.  “You are supposed to be riding to the Marches,” he commented casually. “Why are you still here? And who is this?”

Sean kept his composure. “The army is mobilized, sire, though getting out of the city now under siege will take some difficulty,” he reminded him yet again what a folly it was to be sending an army to the Marches while London was under attack. “I was distracted from my departure by this lady I now hold captive.”

A leering smile spread across John’s lips, full of indelicate suggestions of lustful thoughts. “And does your captive have a name?”

Sean’s expression didn’t change. “Good news, sire,” he answered. “I have within my control an excellent investment for the future of your reign. Be presented to the Lady Sheridan St. James.”

John’s eyes widened. He clapped his hands together as an excited child would have. “Sheridan St. James,” he reached out, fingering a tendril of blond hair. “By God’s Rood, d’Athée was correct. She is exquisite. But what is she doing here? D’Athee told me the last he saw of you and Lady Sheridan, you were both fleeing towards the Lanthorn Tower.”

It took all of Sean’s self control not to break the man’s neck as he toyed with Sheridan’s hair.  If he was going to pull this off and save both their lives, then he had to be convincing. He had to remain in control. But it was growing more difficult with each passing moment.

“We were, sire, until I was ambushed and the lady escaped,” he said evenly. “Be that as it may, she has been recaptured. And she is now my wife.”

John stopped toying. He looked at Sean as if the man had lost his mind. “She is
what
?”

“My wife. I have just married her.”

“De Lara, if this is a joke.…”

Sean shook his head, moving to grab Sheridan by the arm in a less-gentle and more-controlling gesture. It was meant to be a dominating action.  But Sean managed to very discreetly pull her to his other side, putting himself between John and Sheridan.

“No joke, I assure you,” his voice lowered. “I caught the woman hiding in the church. Were we to simply hold her hostage against the rebels, it would be a sentimental prisoner and nothing more. The allies would not surrender simply for the sake of Sheridan St. James.  However, to marry her means that I, as her husband, inherit control of Lansdown, her wealth and her men. Men that are currently laying siege outside of the city. One command from me and fifteen hundred men will return to Lansdown.”

The gleam of lust in John’s eye flared, dimmed, and then turned into something else. Sean watched the king’s expression with such inward scrutiny that, for a few moments, he forgot to breathe. He could only pray the man believed him. The seconds ticked by with agonizing slowness as the king digested the statement.

But it was thankfully not for long. John’s expression gradually slackened. Though naturally suspicious, he could not deny the Shadow Lord’s train of thought nor his sacrifice for the king’s cause. His features began to bloom with the light of understanding.

“Amazing,” he breathed, his gaze moving from Sean back to Sheridan. “So you have married Henry St. James’ daughter and heiress.”

“The St. James army is now my army and will do as I command.”

It was apparent that the king was thrilled with the prospect. He clapped his hands again, a disturbingly gleeful gesture in the face of an impending siege.  But Sean was determined to keep control of the conversation before the king could do or suggest anything that would cause him to snap and give himself away. He stepped away from the king, respectfully, still gripping Sheridan by the arm. He tried not to appear as if he was hurried, merely going about a duty.

“I will take her for safekeeping now, sire,” he said as he walked. “I will send word to the St. James captain to return to Lansdown and then I shall meet up with my army preparing to leave for the Marches.”

Sean’s departure was swift but the king didn’t notice. All he could see was that a prize was escaping him and he would not let such a trophy go so swiftly. He took a few steps after Sean, calling out as the distance between them grew.

“I should like to become better acquainted with your wife,” he said in a tone that suggested it was a command. “Perhaps over a meal after Vespers. And I should like for you to attend me before you leave for the Marches.”

Sean knew exactly what he meant. Nine years had given him that gift of insight. He was marginally thankful the man hadn’t made demands for her at that very moment, but still, it would be a turbulent evening ahead. Though his body tensed, he remained controlled on the outside; he had to.

“As you wish, sire,” he answered.

He whisked Sheridan down the long axis of the chapel, turning the corner and realizing they were far from where he wanted to take her. The Flint Tower was in front of them, looming against the dusk.  Sean took her into the Tower with Gilby on their heels.  He had to get away from the king, anywhere.

The Tower was cold and damp. Sean took Sheridan up to the second floor, pausing once they reached the adjoining building where the nobles were sometimes housed. It was dark but for a few torches smoking lazily.  Pausing to catch his breath, he turned to look at her.

Sheridan, thankfully, was composed in spite of what could have been a horrible happenstance. She smiled timidly as their eyes met.

“Now what?” she asked, trying to make light of the situation. “Do you plan to take me somewhere and ravage me?”

He almost frowned at her but she was smiling so charmingly at him that he cracked a smile. She knew how serious the situation was, or at least she sensed it. His smile softened as he gazed down at her. A hand came up to stroke the same hair that the king had touched.

“You will have to wash your hair,” his voice was husky. “I cannot stomach the man’s scent on you.”

She could see how anxious he was, which was unusual given the fact that the man was perpetually in control of himself. She pressed against him, curling against his massive body. Sean wrapped his arms around her, gazing down into her lovely face.

“All in good time,” she murmured. “What do we do now?”

He lifted an eyebrow. “This is not how I had planned our wedding night but I am afraid I will have to turn you over to Gilby’s care while I tend to the king.”

She nodded, masking her disappointment. “He wants to have supper with me.”

Sean’s face hardened. “He will be sorely disappointed. The man will never be near you again.”

“But… what are you going to tell him?”

“That you are ill, or asleep, or that you have run off in terror. I do not know at the moment. Anything I can think of.”

She could see how much the very idea distressed him. She could not know that he had been dreading this moment since almost the very moment he laid eyes upon her in the ward those days ago. Now it was coming to pass, that which he feared most.  The king was on to Sheridan’s scent. Though she sensed Sean’s distress, she could not truly know how badly it was affecting him.

“I am sure that Gilby shall take good care of me while you are doing your duty,” she assured him quietly. “You must return to the king quickly or he might become suspicious.”

He almost snorted;
he is always suspicious
. But he would not say what he was thinking, what she could not grasp at the moment. One had to be in the trenches for as long as he had been in order to know just how serious this situation was.

“Not before I get you settled,” he said, taking her hand and leading her down the hall.  “I would make sure you are safe and cared for before I return to the king.”

Orienting himself, he knew exactly where he was and what chambers, or apartments, were in close proximity.  The length of the structure, moving north to south, was several hundred yards long. It was a massive structure of apartments and rooms.  Most of the upstairs chambers were for visiting nobles, not assigned to any one particular house. Sean chose a random apartment that was small but functional.  They were away from the bustle of most of the Tower so that Sheridan could easily remain out of the public eye.

The little antechamber was small and chilly, with very little furnishings. In fact, it looked as if it had been unlived in for some time. The sun had almost completely set, giving the room an eerie feel. Sean let go of Sheridan’s hand as Gilby shut the door and threw the bolt. As Sean made a fire in the dark, cold hearth, Gilby took the lady’s arm gently and guided her to the only chair. 

Sheridan sat in the darkness, watching Sean’s broad back as he worked the fireplace. Gilby drifted into the bedchamber and emerged a few moments later to declare that there was a serviceable mattress but no linens. Then he announced he would go in search of some food for the lady and left the apartments entirely. Sean remained silent as he sparked the flint that eventually gave birth to a small flame.  Sheridan left her chair and went to kneel beside Sean, her arms going around his neck and her head against his massive bicep. It was a comforting, consoling gesture.

He patted her arm with his free hand, stoking the little flame until it picked up into a friendly blaze. She leaned against him, feeling his massive strength beneath her arms, acquainting herself with the scent and feel of him.  It was wonderful.

“What did you mean about sending my army back to Lansdown?” she asked one of many questions on her mind. “Are you really?”

He sighed heavily; she could feel it as well as hear it. “Things are by far more complicated than they were an hour ago,” he replied. “The Marshall will be sending word to Jocelin of our marriage, but I must have your declaration on a document to de Moreville verifying our marriage and the fact that I now have control of the St. James army.”

She lifted her head from his arm, looking at him. “Neely will not take the news well.”

“As I would not expect him to, which is why I require your verification.”

“Are you going to send the army home?”

He looked at her, then. “No.”

“But you told the king.…”

“I told him many things to save both our lives,” he interrupted her softly. “You know the truth, Sheridan. The king knows only what I tell him.”

She gazed into the clear blue eyes, seeing his vulnerability for the very first time. She’d never seen that before, ever. It was at that moment the seriousness of the situation began to sink in.

“Why are you going to the Marches?” she asked, almost a whisper.

The fire was picking up steam. Sean stood up and led Sheridan back over to the chair. He took it, seating her on his lap. She curled up against him, a deliciously wonderful moment between them.  He had never held her on his lap before. He knew the moment her rounded buttocks settled on his thighs that he liked it tremendously. He held her close.

“I have orders to ride for the Marches,” he murmured, his lips against her forehead.  “The king seems to think that I am needed more on the Welsh border than at a city under siege.”

“But why?” she was enjoying the warmth, the strength, from him tremendously. “I do not understand why he would send his bodyguard to battle.”

“More than a bodyguard, I am a knight. I have been swinging a sword longer than most.”

“I know that, but I would think that he would rather have you here.”

He debated how much to tell her. Though she understood politics by virtue of her father’s teaching, still, he did not want to frighten her. But he felt he had to be honest with her. He’d lied a great deal in his life, to a great many people, but he made a firm vow at that moment that he would never lie to Sheridan, no matter what.

“’Tis a test, Sheridan,” he said quietly. “The king has doubts about my loyalty stemming from the time when I prevented him from raping your sister. He is a suspicious man by nature and my actions fueled some doubt in his mind. He has asked me to ride to the Marches to assist Clifford in fending off de Braose’s attack against disputed holdings. He has also asked me to raze Lansdown to prove that I am more loyal to him than to the House of St. James, which presents something of a problem considering I married the heiress. Lansdown belongs to me now.”