A Knight of Passion(42)

The older man’s face softened. “Lord Camden holds no sway over me. But if he leaves with you, Riana, we cannot stop him, save by battle.”

She nodded, then faced Bryant. “There is no need for you to risk your life either, my lord. I can fend for myself.”

Her pictured her fending for herself against a band of men in the Scottish Highland wilds, and the terror he’d experienced upon learning she’d left Chilgoriam dug deeper into the gaping wound in his soul. He opened his mouth to threaten a beating if she didn’t willingly follow him now—and every day for the rest of her life—but stopped. Realisation rolled over him like an avalanche. She could have escaped with Siusan and Glen to France without thought for the next assassin the duchess would send to kill him. Instead, she had returned to this hell—to save him.

She loved him.

It hadn’t occurred to him her feelings could have grown to such proportions, and yet.

He gave a mental laugh. Just as it hadn’t occurred to her that the last twenty-four hours had been the worst of his life with the fear that she lay in some dark, remote place, bleeding, or worse, dead.

She didn’t realise he loved her.

And how could she know? Only a few days ago, he had come to her bed by accident, then married her with the intention of using her to control the duchess.

Bryant grasped her hand and brought it to his lips. She stood frozen when he pressed her slim fingers to his mouth.

“Lady, the hounds of hell could not tear me away from you.”

Her lips parted in surprise. “My lord—” She broke off, moisture appearing in her eyes.

“We must hurry,” he said. “Or the hounds may have a go at me, after all.”

Her eyes cleared. “Aye.” She glanced at Sir Fostar. “You will be safe?”

“Sir Andrew will stand by me.”

Just as Bryant knew he would stand by her.

* * * *

Five minutes later, they reached the alcove on the north-western corner of the castle where the passageway was. Riana pulled back the tapestry that hid the niche and motioned Sir Bryant and Sir Dunbar inside.

Her heart raced. Sir Bryant had come for her…had admitted publicly that he cared for her. She couldn’t let him risk his life without knowing she was not longer his wife.

Sir Dunbar slipped past her, then Sir Bryant. Riana grasped his arm. “My lord, I must tell you—”

He yanked her to him and crushed his mouth against hers. He plunged his tongue inside. The taste of him, salty, sweet, and male assaulted her. Riana’s head reeled. She sparred with his tongue, starved for him. Her core clenched and moisture flooded her channel. By all that was holy, if Sir Dunbar weren’t here, she would beg him to f*ck her. Sir Bryant pulled back, breathing hard. Riana clung to him, her heart thundering in her breast.

He gave her a shake. “You will never again run away.”

She blinked his green eyes into focus.

“Do you understand?” he demanded.

She nodded. And meant it.

Minutes later, they exited the passageway. Morning sun streamed down in yellow shafts past fast-moving clouds. They had just reached the trees when the pounding of boots on moist ground rose from around the walls. The three halted and Riana jerked her gaze to Sir Bryant, who exchanged a glance with Sir Dunbar.

“Apparently, Lord Camden is determined to have your wife,” Sir Dunbar drawled.

Bryant nodded and snaked a hand around Riana, pushing her behind him as he turned. The earl appeared from around the castle with a dozen men-at-arms. Fear ripped through Riana. The duchess walked alongside him.

Riana grasped Sir Bryant’s arm. “My lord.” Muscle tensed beneath her fingers.

“Quiet,” he ordered.

The earl halted in front of them, the duchess at his side and his men behind him.

Malice glittered in the older woman’s eyes. “It is just as I said, she is running.”

Anger swept through Riana. She stepped from behind Sir Bryant. He reached for her, but she sidestepped him. “It was not I who fraternised with Lord Alasdair.”

The duchess’ brows shot up. “What do you call spreading your legs for one of the Disinherited?”

“I call it being your whore.”

“Riana,” Sir Bryant growled.

She kept her gaze on the duchess. “It was not I who welcomed Lord Alistar into Arundel, then plotted with him to finance Balliol.”

The duchess gave a nasty laugh. “You expect anyone to believe your lies? You wish to better your station in life. What better way than to ingratiate yourself with an earl?”