Desire

She went back to the window.

'What is it?' Joanna asked.

'A small party of men is approaching from the village.' Clare peered at the cloud of dust in the distance. She spotted a familiar yellow banner.

'Oh, no.'

'Clare?'

'By the hem of Saint Hermione's gown, I have never known a man to show poorer timing. What an idiot he is.'

'Who?'

'Sir Nicholas.'

'Oh, no, surely not.' Joanna rose from the stool and hurried to the window. Her mouth tightened at the sight of the party of mounted men. 'I vow, this could prove to be somewhat awkward.'

'That is putting it mildly.'

'Do you think that Sir Gareth knows anything about the kidnapping?'

'How could he?' Clare frowned. 'We hushed the matter up quite thoroughly. I made it clear to everyone that I had been a willing visitor to Seabern Keep. And I did not mention the incident in my letter to Lord Thurston. Sir Gareth cannot be aware of it.'

'I hope you're right,' Joanna said grimly. 'Because if the Hellhound of Wyckmere is given cause to believe that his bride has been ravished by another man, I fear there will be the devil himself to pay.'

A sudden thought struck Clare. 'Do you think that he would withdraw his suit if he were to learn that I had been kidnapped?'

Joanna looked alarmed. 'Now, Clare?'

'Mayhap a previously ravished bride would not be to Sir Gareth's taste.

He is a very proud man for one who was born a bastard.' Clare paused.

'Or mayhap because of that fact.'

Joanna scowled. 'Do not even contemplate such a notion. There is no telling what would happen were Sir Gareth to suspect the worst, and I, for one, do not want to find out.'

'Hmmm,' Clare said. She turned toward the door.

'What are you going to do?' Joanna called after her.

'I am going to welcome our visitors, of course. What else?'

'Clare, I beg of you, promise me that you will not do anything rash.'

'I vow, you are beginning to sound just like Beatrice the recluse with all your warnings and dire prophecies.'

Clare gave her a quick, reassuring smile. 'Do not fret. I shall consider carefully before I move the next piece in this game of chess.'

She hurried out the door and along the corridor to the stone steps in the corner tower. She flew down them to the great room of the hall, where confusion and alarm seemed to reign.

Eadgar came up to her, his face creased in lines of grave anxiety. 'Tis Sir Nicholas and several of his household knights, my lady. They are already in the courtyard. What am I to do with them?'

'We shall first determine why they have come from Seabern without any notice. Then we shall invite them to sup with us and stay the night.'

'The night?' Eadgar looked almost faint at the thought. 'But we have a house full of guests. There is no room for any more.'

'I am certain we can find space for a few more pallets here in the hall.'

Clare crossed the hall and went outside to stand on the steps. The courtyard was even busier than the hall. Grooms ran from the stables to take the horses as the newcomers dismounted. Several of Gareth's men appeared. Their eyes were watchful and they held their hands close to the hilts of their swords.

A large, familiar figure flung his helm to his squire and climbed down from his horse.

'Greetings, my lady.' Nicholas's voice boomed across the courtyard.

Clare groaned.

Sandy-haired and blue-eyed, Nicholas of Seabern was not an unhandsome man. Clare thought his features rather coarse, but she knew that some woman found his thick neck, bulging chest, and sturdy thighs appealing.

She had once overheard a giggling maid confide to a friend that Nicholas's male member was as well muscled as the rest of him.

Clare had no desire to discover the truth of that statement.

'Welcome, Sir Nicholas,' she said coolly. 'We were not expecting you.'

'Word has reached me that the chase is on.' Nicholas smacked his hand into his palm with great relish. 'I've always enjoyed the sport to be had from a rousing hunt.'

'What hunt?' Clare glared at him. 'What are you talking about, sir?'

'I hear that you have finally been cornered and forced to choose a husband. Past time, if you ask me.'

'No one did?'

'What's more, I have it on good authority that a suitor for your hand has arrived on Desire.' Nicholas chuckled. 'I could scarcely let a stranger have the field to himself.'

'This is not a hunt, sir, and I am not a helpless hart to be run to earth and captured. I have a choice in the matter.'

Nicholas chuckled. 'And have you made your choice, madam?'

'Nay, I have not.'

'Excellent. Then it is not too late. I shall join the chase.'

'I fear the lady jests.' Gareth materialized behind Clare. He stood with arrogant ease on the top step, one big hand resting lightly on the hilt of the Window of Hell. 'The hunt is over.'

'Who are you?' Nicholas demanded.

'Gareth of Wyckmere.'

'The one they call the Hellhound.' Nicholas grinned. 'I have heard of you, sir.'

'Have you?'

'Aye, you've got a reputation that would do credit to the devil. So you're here to woo the lady, eh?'

'She finds it amusing to pretend that she has not yet selected a husband. Who can blame her for attempting to prolong the entertaining game of courtship? But in truth the matter has been decided.

I am the only suitor who meets any of her requirements.'

'Not necessarily,' Clare muttered. She was annoyed by the way the two men towered over her.

Between the two of them they managed to block out the spring sunshine.

She found herself standing in the shade.

Nicholas's eyes narrowed as he took Gareth's measure. 'I know well that Lady Clare has certain very specific requirements in a husband. I would not want to see her settle for less than she deserves.'

'You need not concern yourself with the matter,' Gareth said.

'But I must.' Nicholas switched his attention back to Clare. 'We have been friends and neighbors for years, is that not right, madam?'

'We have certainly been neighbors for years,' Clare said.

'Aye, and because of that close relationship, I feel it is my duty to be certain that any husband of your choosing knows exactly what he is getting in the bargain.' Nicholas smirked. 'A man should not be surprised on his wedding night.'

A deep sense of alarm unfurled within Clare. She sniffed delicately and smelled the heavy, dangerous tension in the air between Gareth and Nicholas.

There had never been violence of any kind on her fair isle. She would not allow it to flare up now.

In that moment Clare knew that she would have to abandon her half-formed plan to turn the situation to her own advantage. She was suddenly faced with another, more pressing problem.

She had to find a way to keep Gareth and Nicholas from each other's throats.