The Marriage Parley

CHAPTER THREE

This was the man she was going to marry, and Margaret could not drag her gaze from him. He was exactly what she had expected and yet nothing like it.

Morty left last, still grumbling, and the tent opening swished closed behind him. And they were alone.

Tied to the post, he did not look one whit less threatening and she might have made a big mistake in agreeing to be alone with him.

His flaxen hair and pale blue eyes spoke of his Saxon heritage, also his height and the breadth of those shoulders. Like most knights, he was powerfully built, but unlike other knights she knew, Richard of Elford carried no spare flesh.

Their eyes locked and heat spread beneath her skin. She had been ogling him and he had seen her do so.

"Thank you." He pulled at his binding. "Your man tied me well, so you have nothing to fear."

She didn't like that he read her nervousness. "I am not afeared of you."

"No?" A smile spread over his carved, rugged face. Not a pretty face but a man's face made of uncompromising strength. Fine lines spread from his eyes and bracketed his mouth as if he laughed well and often. "We can count that a good beginning."

"Indeed." She used her most repressive tone. Their marriage would take place. She needed it to take place, but she had more than her own needs to think of. If Sir Richard thought he could cozen and charm her into conceding to all his demands, he would discover that not all women were ruled by their female hearts. Or even the bits that rested a good stretch south of their hearts which were as responsible for nearly as much mischief. "Shall we parley?"

"You have heard what my people had to say." He inclined his head. "Perhaps some wine before we begin?"

Strolling to the table, she let her amusement show. They did not have to be enemies to reach an agreement. "Now I see the true reason behind only having one hand tied."

"You have unearthed my secret." His smile could charm a nun.

Margaret was relieved her hand did not shake as she poured the wine. So much depended on her and Sir Richard reaching an agreement. Without a lord to lead her men, she was reliant on household knights and marshals. De Guilles did not have the terrain protections of Elford. It lay clear in the path of a marauding force and the news that she had no lord had already spread throughout the kingdom.

She had become an easy mark, both her demesne and her person, and scavengers like John of Arles were circling.

Richard's gaze tracked her as she approached him with a goblet of wine. The warmth in his eyes made her shiver. This man proposed no cold marriage in name only, or she did not know men.

Careful to keep a safe distance, she handed him the wine.

His fingers brushed hers and the warmth crept down her arm. She let go of the goblet as soon as she could.

"To us." He raised his goblet. Those blue eyes met hers over the rim and challenged her to join him.

Margaret raised her goblet. "Whether or not there is an us remains to be seen."

"How disappointing." His eyes gleamed and a small smile played about this mouth. "In case there was any doubt in your mind that I favored this match, let me put your mind at rest. I want you."

Those three words stroked over her like a cat's paw and settled deep in her belly. She liked that he wanted her. Her imagination wanted to play with all the possible meanings of those three words. Her own reply sounded breathless. "I also favor this match."