Read The Commander's Desire Online
Authors: Jennette Green
Tags: #Romance, #historical romance, #historical, #arranged marriage, #romance historical, #scotland, #revenge, #middle ages, #medieval romance, #princesses, #jennette green, #love stories
The Commander's Desire
“
Give me your blades,” he
growled down at her.
Fear pounded in Elwytha’s chest, and she
licked her dry lips. “You found no blades when you pawed through my
clothes. The maid found none on my person. Perhaps that is because
I have none.”
“
I don’t trust
you.”
She smiled.
As well you shouldn’t.
However, she said, “How can we have a marriage with no
trust?”
“
Come with me.” He forced
her toward the door. “You will not return to this room.”
“
But my clothes!”
“
You will have new clothes.
Clothes with no holes for pockets. Clothes that provide no access
to the blade at your thigh.”
“
Nonsense.” Unthinking, she
struggled and then, to her consternation, he picked her up and
tossed her over his shoulder. She cried out in fear and horrified
humiliation. “Put me down!” She pounded on his broad back. “Put me
down, you monstrous serf!”
He strode silently through the halls. She
squeezed her eyes shut, unwilling to see the others witnessing her
humiliation. “Put me down. Put me down at once!” she gasped. She
bit her lip, trying to stop the weak tears of a woman, not a
warrior. She sniffed and finally stopped struggling, and hung down
his back. His belt about his jerkin was within reach. If only she
could loosen it, she could cinch it around his massive neck! It was
only a hopeless fantasy, of course.
“
Where are you taking me?”
she demanded, voice muffled. Perhaps if she pretended submission he
would return her to her feet. And if she found a dagger, she’d
gladly plunge it through his heart.
“
To my chambers.”
“
Nay!” she gasped out, and
struggled in earnest then. “I have decided you are unacceptable to
me. You have none of the finer qualities I require in a
husband.”
Also by Jennette Green
Her Reluctant Bodyguard
Murder by Nightmare
(a novelette)
Desire
Jennette Green
This is a work of fiction. Names,
characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the
author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance
to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events,
or locales is entirely coincidental.
THE COMMANDER’S DESIRE
A Diamond Press book / published in
arrangement with the author
Published by Diamond Press at Smashwords
Copyright © 2008, 2010 by Jennette Green
Cover design by Rae Monet
All rights reserved.
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal
enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to
other people. If you would like to share this book with another
person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If
you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not
purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com
and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work
of this author.
Library of Congress Control
Number:
2010936492
Library of Congress Subject Headings:
Man-woman relationships—Fiction
Love stories
Historical—Fiction
Scotland—Fiction
Middle Ages—Fiction
Princesses—Fiction
Revenge—Fiction
Arranged Marriage—Fiction
Diamond Press
www.diamondpresspublishing.com
Published in the United States of
America.
Dedication
To my husband, Dale. Without your love and
support, I could never have come this far.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
Castle Cor na Gaeth, Galwyddel, 715 A.D.
October
“Peace.
Are you sure it will work, brother?” Elwytha pushed at the
warrior circlet that banded her head. It felt constricting, and not
for the first time, she wanted to tear it off.
Apprehension simmered in her as she watched
her brother slouching on his carved wooden throne, stroking his
thick black beard with his fingers. Four years her elder, he had
ascended the family throne when their oldest brother, Thor, had
died six months ago. Richard shared her dark hair and startling
blue eyes—the color of a loch on a bright summer day, when the
water reflected the sky.
Richard smiled, and she wasn’t sure if she
liked it. He said, “They are eager for peace, since our forces have
decimated theirs in the last five battles.”
Elwytha wondered if this was true. Their
castles had been at bloody war for over a century. Why would either
side wish for peace now? More puzzling, however, was why Richard
would want it. Especially after their enemy’s latest despicable
act, which had stolen her brother’s life. “If we are winning, why
not kill them all?” she asked. “Why strive for peace?”
He shook his head. “Sister, your heart is too
true, too pure. Of course I do not want peace. I wish vengeance,
and I want to annihilate them all.”
She waited, feeling troubled. Vengeance. King
Thor had been her favorite brother. Gentle for a warrior. He’d made
her a swing in the castle grounds when she was five, had been her
champion all of her life…and she missed him terribly. One horrific
day six months ago he’d been cut down in their woods by the enemy
Prince’s Commander—stabbed in the back in cold blood. The very
cowardice and foulness of that act…the evil of it blazed pain and
fury through her heart yet again.
Elwytha burned for vengeance as her brother
did, but something disturbed her about Richard’s plan. The
sneakiness of it. The deceit. No matter if the Prince played those
unscrupulous, unjust games. Did they have to sink to his level,
too?
She said, “This is the only way?”
“
Yes.” Richard gave her a
direct stare. “Vengeance for our brother lies in your hands. Are
you ready to make the bastard pay?”
“
How will I know him?” she
consented, fingering the blade strapped to her upper thigh, hidden
beneath the flowing blue lines of her gown. A slit in the fabric
gave her direct access to the weapon. It was one of many weapons
she wielded with a skill matching her brother’s. War had been their
play since babes.
He laughed, an unpleasant one, which revealed
his straight white teeth. “You will recognize him because he’s as
ugly as sin. He looks like the monster he is.”
Elwytha had killed in battle before, but
never like this. Premeditated murder. And she’d do it in the palace
of their bitter enemy, Prince Rex. In truth, he was their last
remaining enemy. None of the other petty kings of Galwyddel dared
attack her home any longer, for each had tasted the bite of their
blades and wished no more. Only the huge kingdom of Northumbria, to
the far east, remained a threat to Castle Cor na Gaeth. But for now
they had peace with King Osred—as long as they paid the tribute he
demanded.
So their last enemy—rooted in hatred and
watered by the bloody war spawned by their mutual
great-great-grandfathers a century earlier—remained the Prince, and
his fiendish Commander.
She said, “You are sure he will accept this
marriage contract?”
Her brother smiled. “The Prince
will not be able to resist when he sees you. And he will grasp at
the chance to keep his throne. Never fear, sister mine. All will
commence as I have planned. I’ve written everything in this
missive.” He tapped it on his leg and extended it to her. “Make no
move to kill the Commander until you hear my battle horn,
announcing my arrival to witness the nuptials in two
weeks.”
“
I will not truly have to
marry the Prince, then?” Her flesh prickled at the very idea. The
Prince had a repulsive reputation.
“
Never, sister. I will
rescue you as soon as you slay their Goliath.”
She bowed her head. “Yes, brother. I will
leave at first light.”
“
My guard will escort you to
the palace with a white flag of protection. Godspeed.”
“
Success,” Elwytha promised,
swallowing another churn of apprehension. Tomorrow she would face
the enemy Prince. Would she be able to maintain her charade of
peace? She had enjoyed make-believe as a child. But acting a part
for two weeks seemed nigh to impossible.
* * * * *
Castle Iolaire, Galwyddel
“
Enter.” Elwytha’s escort
had deserted her at the Prince’s drawbridge, which had been lowered
so she could cross the deep, swift flowing burn that protected the
castle entrance. Elwytha had never visited the enemy keep before,
and in a glance had taken in the deep moat about it, the high stone
walls at the front, and the tall, spiked wooden poles that
surrounded the castle at the rear. It looked
impenetrable.
Now she walked silently beneath the arched
entrance into the courtyard of the ancient fortress. Men in thick
leather chest armor, inlaid with linked metal pieces, walked beside
her. Enemy men. Their weapons were sheathed because of the white
flag she carried in one hand, and the scroll of peace she held in
the other. She felt several of them looking at her, perhaps eyeing
the warrior circlet upon her head. No doubt they thought it was a
crown for the princess she was. Her lips tightened, suppressing a
smile at their foolish gullibility. None knew of the two knives she
wore beneath her flowing aqua gown, which was made of the finest
linen and decorated with strips of intricate beadwork. Or the
dagger at her ankle, just above her delicate kid slippers. Fools,
all of them.
Of course, she was no better—a liar. An
ambassador of peace, while she plotted murder. Discomfort squeezed
inside her. How could she carry off this farce?
A helmeted soldier who smelled like old sweat
took the white flag from her, and pushed open the door to the
palace. “Enter,” he ordered, as if she were a subservient maid, and
not the princess of Castle Cor na Gaeth.
With a lift to her chin, Elwytha walked with
stately elegance to the double, curved wooden doors ahead. Two
guards opened these, and before her lay the main hall of the
palace.
A soft gasp escaped her as startling white
blinded her eyes. The floor was made entirely of inlaid quartz
pebbles, and they sparkled in the light streaming through slit
windows in the stone walls. Overhead, candles in circular
candelabras burned, brightening the room still more. Rich
tapestries in elegant dark reds and blues and purples covered the
walls. Men in helmets stood in two lines before her, lances crossed
overhead, marking her pathway to the Prince, who sat upon his
throne at the far end.
The Prince sat erect on a polished,
elaborately carved wooden chair, with a plush footstool before him.
He wore dark pants and boots, and a fine white tunic embroidered
with gold threads. A bulbous crown of gold, encrusted with jewels,
sat upon his head. Elwytha had never seen such a splendid crown
before.