Page 7 of Border Lord’s Bride

And in order to succeed, he needed another tactic, something far more devastating, something that would cut the young pup to the quick. Then an idea formed. The perfect solution to Horatio's problem. He knew Lucius's weakness. It was the reason he'd returned home.

His sisters.

Horatio closed his eyes, trying to block out the laughter of the woman sitting behind him and the shouts of the two men near the fire who wrestled each other like they were playing out of doors. The thump of a body against a wooden table made him startle.

He stood and backed into the shadows of the chamber as other men joined the fray. Horatio watched the ruckus, and as he did, his plan took on dimension. He needed at least two of these thugs as part of his plan.

The girls were the key. Lucius would return to the Templars or die. Horatio cared not which.

He pressed himself against the rough stone wall in the shadows. His cheeks heated, his fists curled and uncurled as hatred seethed green and evil within him. He would use the girls to get everything he wanted. Everything.

Lucius stretched in the chair he'd slept in by the hearth in the great hall, trying to work the kinks out of his neck. He'd slept in worse conditions, but never in his own home. He had a perfectly good bed waiting for him upstairs, yet he hadn't been able to bring himself to sleep in it or the chamber that had belonged to his father, and to Marcus after that. There were too many memories lingering abovestairs, memories he wasn't prepared to confront just yet.

Lucius stood and stretched again and noted the light seeping through the shutters was brighter than normal. He crossed the chamber and threw the shutters open. A blast of cold air greeted him, as did the sight of the estate blanketed in snow that had fallen during the night.

"Did you sleep well, my lord?"

At the sound of Elizabeth's soft voice, he tensed. "You used to call me Lucius."

"With your permission, I would be delighted to do so once more."

He closed the shutters. "You don't need my permission." A frown tugged at his mouth as he turned to face her. She was dressed in a dark woolen dress and a cloak, and held a second cloak draped over her arm. "You are leaving."

"Nay, you'll not be rid of me so easily, Lucius." She placed an added emphasis on his name. "I've come to take you on an outing." She held the cloak over her arm out to him. "Once you break your fast we'll be on our way."

"Where?" he asked suspiciously.

She smiled sweetly, and he knew from the days of their youth that the glint of determination in her eyes meant he wouldn't get anything more from her until he agreed.

He accepted the cloak. "If I do this, will you leave then?"

Her smile slipped a notch. "I'll make you no promises. Marie has oats and bacon set out for you in the kitchen."

As she waited for his reply, her gaze moved to the chair he'd slept in and the woolen blanket now lying on the floor alongside it. Her face remained blank, but in her eyes he could see a momentary sadness before she dropped her gaze to her feet.

He'd always been able to read her emotions by her eyes. At the thought he stiffened. What did he care what emotion she was experiencing, especially on his behalf? Elizabeth had betrayed him, and here was no forgiving that. He tossed the cloak over his shoulders and pushed past her, heading toward the kitchen. "Very well. Let's get this charade over with, so then you can leave."

Before his sisters had risen from their beds, he and Elizabeth were out of doors. She led him to the stable, where two horses were saddled and ready for them. Elizabeth moved to the mounting block and easily slipped onto the back of her horse.

Lucius frowned, irritated by the knowledge she didn't need his assistance to mount. Was she avoiding his touch? Or was she making a show of her independence? He mounted his horse and forced the thoughts away. He could not afford to care about her feelings or her motives. His presence on this outing was merely a means to get her to leave, nothing more.

As she turned toward the door, he noticed a dark bundle attached to the back of her horse. "What's in the satchel?" he asked as he followed her.

She stopped her horse and turned to him. "Gifts from you to your tenants."

"What are you about?"

She ignored his tartness. "You need to meet your people. They are eager to meet you. And since it is customary for the lord of the manor to deliver coins to the crofters and servants at Christmastide, I asked Hadwell if you could do both at the same time. He agreed and gave me the funds."

His gaze narrowed. "You are overstepping your authority."

"As the future mistress of this estate, I must think of its people."

He drew a deep breath. "You are not mistress here yet, and will never be if I have my way." At the hurt in her eyes, he softened his tone. "Besides, coins are to be dispersed on Saint Stephen's feast day, the day after Christmas."

She held her chin high. "It would better serve your people to have the coins early this year, for they have suffered much by the loss of your father and brother."

A rush of pain moved through him at her words. He hated to admit she was right. Those of his people who remained at the estate deserved kindness this year more than any other. At the mention of his tenants, his thoughts wandered to those who'd left. Where had they gone and what was their condition? The borderlands could be a treacherous place for clan members living on their own.