Page 36 of The Protector’s Promise

Almain’s men looked at him as if he’d gone mad, but she sensed no rush of cold from them. They had not brought any malintent to Court’s hall. They’d only gone along with their leader.

“We shall stay to celebrate.”

With that, he walked around the dais to the side where she and Court stood and sat next to Court as if he’d not threatened him moments earlier.

Would they really sit and eat with this man as if nothing had happened? It appeared so. But Marion was afraid to let go of the stone. What if it was controlling Almain’s behavior? What if he reversed his position as soon as they released it?

Court finally decided for them, letting the stone fall into her hand as he pulled away. She looked at him as he walked around to the other side of the table. Following, Marion sat alongside him and caught Kenneth’s glance. He had not known she would declare herself betrothed to Court. She had not known herself. But oddly, he did not look surprised. She smiled, hoping to reassure him and the others that all would be well. After the day she’d put them through, they were owed an explanation. And she would give it to them.

After she and Court had the opportunity to talk about what had transpired. And whether or not they were indeed going to become man and wife.

11

They must have appeared to Almain like any other couple, but he and Marion were anything but. She played the part well, smiling and laughing as if she’d not just set down one of the most powerful men in England. Court wasn’t sure what to think of her performance, aside from being grateful for her timely entrance. But he needed to know her mind.

Now.

“If you will excuse us,” he said, at the risk of further insulting Almain by being the first to leave. “I must escort my lady to her room. You will, of course, be shown to yours when you are ready to retire.”

Almain lifted his goblet, a signal that his wine was not yet empty. “A splendid night to you both,” he said, looking at his men. “I shall speak with you about Halbury in the morning before we depart.”

Court escorted Marion from the hall then, pausing only briefly so she could have a word with her men. She took his arm as she followed him down a darkened passageway and up a spiral staircase.

“My bedchamber is not this way, my lord,” she said beside him, her voice like a gentle breeze on a cool summer night.

“I know well where it is.”

She followed in silence until they reached his destination. Opening the studded door that led to his own chamber and adjoining solar, Court gestured for her to enter. She did, and he was pleased to see his room had already been prepared for the night. Candlelight glowed from every corner of the room. Though large, it was sparsely furnished with only a bed, two chairs and a hearth, which was not needed on a warm day such as this one. Court needed little, though he aspired to much. And yet . . . now that he’d achieved that which he’d always wanted, his own castle and lands, he found the victory a hollow one. The only thing he cared about was the woman standing so close he could reach out and touch her.

But he did not.

If he laid a hand on Marion, they’d not have the conversation they so desperately needed to have.

“You came back,” he said, unsure of where to begin.

“I did.”

He couldn’t do this. Court gestured for her to sit in one of the chairs, far enough that he could not reach her.

Once seated, Marion opened her hand and revealed the stone, entangled in the gold chain to which it was attached.

“Did you feel it?”

“Aye,” he said. “It felt like I was seeing everything as it should be even without a vision. What happened?”

Marion looked down at the stone in her hand. “I do not know. From what I’ve learned, the stone has only ever been in the hands of the protector or the protector’s nemesis, not both at the same time.”

When she looked up, Court nearly lost his resolve not to touch her. She was so very lovely.

“I thought you’d betrayed me,” she said.

He had assumed as much—and decided he couldn’t really blame her. If she’d mistrusted him, he was to blame. “So why did you return?”

She looked at him with such intensity the hairs on his arm rose.

“I felt his malintent,” she said, “when he walked into the hall. I should have known then that he was purposefully deceiving you, but you agreed to the attack so readily, and I was too angry to consider it logically. It was only after I calmed down that I reconsidered.”

“Moordon is truly your father’s?” He still could not believe it. He’d never heard of a greater coincidence, and yet mayhap it was not surprising at all given everything else that had transpired between them.