At His Command-Historical Romance Version Read Free Page A

interrupt. “Harry imprisoned Lady Amice?”
    Anger at Harry, at himself, flashed through him. He’d been so reluctant to come here he hadn’t considered how far some might go to get their hands on a wealthy widow. And a lovely one, at that. Henceforth, duty would be his only concern.
    Cyril said, “Harry and his men swarmed our castle and held Lady Amice under guard in her room until she’d agree to marry him. They gave her only bread and water, forbidding contact with anyone. For four days.”
    Amice looked as though she might faint. Her skin was pale as an angel’s. Her beauty made him want to stare.
    Nicholas guided her to a chair and helped her sit. He couldn’t resist tucking his cloak around her. “But you could never marry your husband’s cousin. Such a marriage is forbidden by the Church. You share a bond of affinity.”
    “All rational people know that,” Amice agreed. “But Harry said some ignore the prohibition and he too would find a way around it. Mayhap get a dispensation.” Her small, white hands gripped the edges of his cloak, holding it close as if to protect herself from painful memories. “Each day, I tried and tried to find a means of escape. Each evening, he’d come to me and ask if I’d marry him. By the fourth day, I was so hungry, so desperate to be free, I lied and said ‘yes.’
    “He believed the pretense of my acceptance and allowed me some freedom.” Someone handed her a cup of steaming broth, which she accepted with a nod. She took a sip. “Harry and his men lowered their guard when I appeared to prepare eagerly for the wedding. This morn, amidst the bustle of activity on the day of our supposed marriage, I managed to ride away.”
    Cyril added, “After Harry went out to find you, his men tried to steal from your coffers. I locked them in your chamber and went to the village to raise a search party. I must go disband it.” Wringing his hands, he turned and went back the way he had come.
    “Steward, wait,” Nicholas called.
    The short man halted, his hair taking a moment to settle.
    “Before you go, show my men Martin and Thomas the Tall where they can contain Harry.”
    “If I weren’t so wet and hungry I’d demand this instant to know why you’re here,” Amice said. “You’ll be shown to your chamber, and then we shall eat. I’ll have your complete tale then. You’ve heard mine.” Holding her head high, she swept out of the room, damp skirts dragging at the rushes covering the wood floor.

    Amice clenched her teeth as she strode to the chamber she’d use during Sir Nicholas’s visit. How dare he order her people about? At least Cyril had looked to Amice for confirmation before following his order.
    She’d show Sir Nicholas who was in charge. She didn’t need some man, who knew nothing about her, ruling her or her home. At nine and twenty, she’d gained enough knowledge and experience to manage her household. Her husband’s death had freed her of a man’s rule. Of his commands and his demands.
    Amice let Ginelle help her out of her ruined garments as servants brought hot water for her bath. “My lady, he is so handsome. Those eyes, the bluest I’ve seen. Such a fine face. And he seems strong, yet kind as well.”
    Amice didn’t need to ask to whom Ginelle referred. She’d never met a man as attractive as Nicholas. His air of authority, the ease with which he took control and the alacrity with which he made decisions and people acted upon his orders, annoyed and made her respect him at the same time.
    “Shall I attend him?” Ginelle offered, her brown eyes round with hope.
    The thought of her pretty maid alone with Nicholas made her uneasy. Best keep temptation away.
    “No. Please lay out my lavender gown.” She’d wear one of her finest out of respect for Nicholas’s standing with the king, not because she cared what he thought of her or wanted to look her best for him. And fall prey to the sin of vainglory.
    She eased into the water, aching