A Knight of Passion(39)

Her heart rate ratcheted up another notch. By all that was holy, Sir Fostar had chosen this morning to bring the sentence of forfeiture against the duke and duchess? Riana cursed. This was the moment she’d waited for—Arundel and all the land the duke and duchess owned would become property of the Scottish parliament—but she was now caught in their web.

She glanced at the hallway behind her. The duchess was sure to attempt escape. But Sir Fostar would have posted men around the keep before barging in, so escape was impossible—for Riana as well. She scanned the dark heads in the room below, but found no sign of Sir Fostar. Where was he? Would he be able to protect her?

Half a dozen men started up the stairwell. Riana straightened from the balcony. A tall, red-haired man reached the landing first. His gaze paused on her face, then raked down her body. Trepidation rippled through her, then she mentally laughed at the thought that he could do anything to her that hadn’t already been done. Another man appeared behind him and he, too, took Riana in with a hard glance. The other men made the landing and filed past, each glancing at her before hurrying forward.

She stepped towards the first man. “I wish to see Sir Fostar.”

A condescending snort broke from him. “I wager you would.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Watch your tongue. He will not be pleased if you mistreat me.”

The second man raked her body with his eyes. “We know how to treat a woman.”

Despite his leer, Riana recognised the false bravado in his voice. Apparently Sir Fostar didn’t countenance rape amongst his men.

The man in the lead seized her arm. “She goes with the duchess.”

“You have found her?” Riana demanded.

“Aye, the bitch was in the stables.”

So it was the duke they now sought. Riana hadn’t thought to ask where he was when she met with the duchess. He could be away from Arundel. Surely he wouldn’t escape?

The warrior pulled Riana towards the stairs. They stepped aside for the other men who pounded up to the second floor, then he pushed her in front of him. Once in the great hall, he escorted her outside. Relief flooded her at sight of Sir Fostar standing with a group of men near the centre of the crowded bailey. The duke’s men-at-arms stood near the gate, faces grim but swords sheathed. They clearly had no wish to fight for a nobleman who would see the English Crown rule Scotland.

Riana and the warrior neared Sir Fostar, and he slid his eyes from the man he spoke with to her. His brows snapped into a frown. He shifted and dread slipped icy fingers through her veins. She understood the reason for his reaction. Lord Camden, Earl of Lochshire, stood to his right. The earl would surely do everything in his power to see that she suffered the same fate the duchess did. After Stuart died, he had asked for Riana’s hand in marriage. He was well known for his taste in boys and she had refused him, making clear she would not spread her legs for a man who f*cked children. He had never forgiven her.

The warrior brought her up alongside the men and stopped. Sir Fostar nodded, and the warrior left.

“Lady Ellis…” he began.

“I see we have another traitor,” Lord Camden cut in.

Riana levelled a cool gaze on him. “You must know it was I who told Sir Fostar that the duchess was fraternising with the Disinherited.”

The earl’s brows shot up. “He said nothing of it to me.”

“Sir Andrew knows that Lady Ellis aided in exposing the duke and duchess,” Sir Fostar said.

Lord Camden pursed his lips. “I will speak with Sir Andrew. Until then, Lady Ellis will go with me.”

“She is no criminal.”

“Do not be a fool,” the earl replied. “She is not above lying to protect herself.”

“There has never been a hint of suspicion that I am a follower of Balliol,” Riana said with a hauteur she felt to her bones. The despicable dog deserved to be flogged.

“If that is the truth, you have nothing to fear.”

But she did, though it wasn’t Lord Camden’s cock she need fear, but his hatred of her. He would gladly f*ck her, then send her to the gallows with the knowledge that even Sir Andrew would hesitate to battle the earl’s five hundred men-at-arms to avenge a dead woman.

Lord Camden grasped her arm. Riana glanced at Sir Fostar. Anger whipped a hard lash across her insides when he gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head. How had she come this far to be undone by a cur such as Lord Camden? If she had but known today was the day Sir Fostar would come.