was not certain you would come.’
‘What choice had I?’ At his frown, she wondered if perhaps he regretted his demand for this marriage. Hope flared anew. She stepped closer. ‘There is no need for us to wed.’ If the Queen would not see reason, perhaps William of Bronwyn could be convinced to do so.
To her dismay, he disagreed. ‘I will not take you from here without the benefit of marriage.’
‘Why not?’ She sought desperately to correct his flawed reasoning. ‘There is no need to concern yourself with my reputation. You can do nothing to ruin it further. That was accomplished long before you arrived at this court.’
William shook his head before directing her towards the chapel’s door. ‘Belittling yourself will not change my mind.’
He made light of her reputation? Did he believe she degraded herself to him out of hand? The questions racing through her mind gave her pause. No man of self-worth would willingly take a harlot to wife.
She knew nothing of this Bronwyn except for the fact he was at court. And while he possessed no title, he was on friendly terms with the Earl of Wynnedom. From what the Queen had claimed, both men were involved in something with King Henry.
Without making it obvious, Sarah studied him. The man was clean. Even though his hair was overlong, light from the wall sconces reflected off the recently washed strands.
The two of them were close enough for her to smell sandalwood—a beguiling scent that called to her senses. Ignoring the effect that scent had on her, she took in his court clothing and well-heeled boots.
The leather wrapping on the scabbard hanging from his side was new. And the hilt of the sword was far too ornate to belong to a lowly man-at-arms.
Oh, yes, this man was drenched in self-worth from the top of his head to the bottom of his feet.
Sarah drew her gaze to his face. From the intensity of his piecing stare, she knew he’d been studying her as well. She needed to be careful and make certain he would discover nothing she didn’t wish him to see.
This could be her last chance to convince him to change his mind. She lowered her head and looked up at him from beneath her eyelashes. ‘My lord, I seek not to belittle myself.’ She softened her voice to a whisper, beckoning him to lean closer. ‘I wish only to warn you of the truth.’
Sarah peered up, making certain she’d captured his attention, then continued, ‘You are the Earl’s man. As such, marrying the Queen’s whore can do little to help your status.’
‘Status? I care nothing for what others may think.’
In all her years at court she’d yet to meet one person, man or woman, who cared naught about the opinions of others. She tried again. ‘You may not care at this moment. But some day you will.’
Sarah placed a hand on her chest and glanced into the chapel before appealing to his common sense. ‘Would you have your children know their mother was rumoured to be nothing more than a harlot?’
He stood upright and answered her question by rolling his eyes briefly to the ceiling, before saying, ‘If all rumours were true, I would be a monster from Hades.’
The sudden look of terror distorting her features at his comment surprised him. Surely she didn’t believe such nonsense? ‘Lady Sarah, fear not, for I am human born.’
She remained silent and he wondered for a moment if perhaps he had made a mistake in demanding this marriage. He cared little if his wife-to-be held any regard for him—it would be easier if she didn’t.
While she might consider this entire episode a failure, for him it had provided an opportunity he couldn’t let pass. He wanted someone to help run his household, and bear his children.
His blood warmed at the thought of this woman in his bed. He would gain more than a wife for his keep. He would also have a woman who was not only pleasing to his eyes, but one rumoured to be well versed in bed.
The one thing he didn’t want was a wife who feared him. He could live with her disdain, and cared not if they never found any tender feelings for each other. But he’d had enough of fear.
When he’d left Sidatha’s Palace with Hugh and the others, he’d vowed to put that life behind him. No more would he suffer the taste of the lash. No more would he kill to put food in his belly. And no more would he intentionally seek to make another fear him. Especially not his wife.
One of the women already inside the chapel to witness this union raised her voice. ‘It is only fitting that the whore be given to such a lowly brute.’
Another woman snickered, then added, ‘His rough treatment of her will not be harsh enough in my opinion.’
The urge to give these women the tongue lashing they deserved was wiped away by the look of resignation settling on Sarah’s face. She’d heard the spiteful words and had chosen to ignore them. How many times had she been forced into this same situation?
From the lack of surprise, or outrage, on her part, William could only assume the answer to his unasked question would be—many times.
But something…the paleness of her face, the odd brightness shimmering in her eyes…told him she was not immune to the barbs directed her way. The women’s comments bothered Sarah a great deal.
His resolve to see this marriage through strengthened. No, he hadn’t made a mistake. Even if she feared him now, Lady Sarah was alone in this court. She was without a champion, without a friend.
He’d been a captive all of his adult life. He knew what it was like to be alone in the world. Taken captive before he’d had a chance to be anything other than an overgrown youth, he’d soon learned to keep to himself. He’d quickly been taught to trust no one.
William turned to stand at her side and offered his arm. ‘Come, Lady Sarah. We were ordered to be gone from court by sunrise. But before we join Lady Adrienna and Hugh, we have a marriage to make.’
She stared at his arm without moving. ‘I wish not to wed you.’
‘I know.’
‘Sir William, we are not suited. Would you not rather have someone of your choosing?’
Not suited? They were well suited from his perspective. She’d been given the choice of a cell, or leaving the court. Lady Sarah needed someone to protect her. A woman alone would not fare well outside these walls. Regardless of its appearance, this court was little more than a jewel-encrusted prison, where one did what they were told to do.
‘We are suited for each other more than you realise, Lady Sarah. And if you remember correctly, I did choose you.’
‘That was nothing more than a whim of the moment. Futures are not built on whims.’
‘Many decisions are based on the whim of a moment.’ How many times had he escaped death by making a snap judgement based solely on the man he fought at that moment? But he wasn’t going to explain that to a woman who already showed signs of fearing him. ‘Our marriage will not have been arranged by strangers. Does that not count for something?’
‘No.’ Her answer was a mere
