Mary Reed McCall Read Free Page A

need? Why couldn’t he be satisfied with what he’d already gained? But he couldn’t rest. He craved more power, more influence, more security, like his body thirsted for water or air. And he knew that when it came down to it, he’d do anything necessary to achieve his purpose.
    Right now that meant being married to Elise de Montford.
    Gray cursed softly again. “You know what this will mean, Alban. I’m not made of stone.”
    His friend didn’t reply at first, but his quiet expression told him more than words ever could. “It might not be so bad,” Alban offered. “’Tis not as if you need to fall in love with her to enjoy her. I know of many men who see their wives seldom at best. They needs only be alone with them when they wish to, ah…” Alban’s face reddened, and he coughed. “Well, what I mean to say is that you needonly forsake your privacy when you wish to get heirs on her.”
    Get heirs on her? Gray fisted his hands as tight as the knots in his stomach. God’s bones, he’d never allowed himself to think that far ahead. He’d always taken precautions to ensure that his seed never took hold in any of the women he’d bedded. There had been many of them, but he’d never made a mistake.
    After Gillian died, he’d known that he wasn’t worthy to bear the responsibility of being any child’s sire. He didn’t want to be a husband, either, especially not to the bewitching creature who was his rival’s sister, but it appeared that he’d have no choice in the matter. Not unless he wanted to risk losing all he’d worked so hard to gain.
    “Bloody hell,” he muttered, running his hands through his hair. When his arms fell to his sides, it was with a sense of defeat greater than any he’d ever known on the battlefield. ’Twas no one’s fault but his own. He’d gotten into this mess by himself. He and his damned ambition. If he’d done as instinct had prompted, if he’d stood firm and refused the king’s outrageous plan for peace from the start, he wouldn’t be in this chamber, drinking water like a parched sea sponge and avoiding a woman.
    A woman who now shared his name and his life.
    With a growl of frustration, Gray picked up his empty goblet and hurled it against the wall, not caring that the emerald-encrusted vessel would be ruined from the impact. It was inescapable. With or without his liking, his marriage to Elise de Montford was achieved, and he needed to accept it.
    Bitterness gripped his innards. Striding to the door that connected to the great hall, Gray swung it open and scattered several revelers who’d been drifting past. Then he gestured to the opening with a flourish, even as he mustered a sardonic smile. “Come, my friend, and accompany me. It can be postponed no longer. ’Tis time for me to join my lady wife and celebrate the joy of our marriage.”
     
    Catherine watched Grayson emerge from the far end of the enormous hall, grim purpose etched in every sculpted line of his face. Without wanting to, she tensed, her hand tightening around her tiny silver cutting knife so that it gouged into the bread trencher in front of her. “Sweet Jesu, Eduard,” she murmured. “What if he’s discovered our deceit?”
    Eduard leaned in, his whisper a sinister reminder of all that she stood to lose if she failed in the task he’d given her. “Control, Catherine. Don’t let your weak-minded tendencies get the best of you. He knows nothing. ’Tis impossible for him even to suspect.”
    Despite that reassurance, Catherine couldn’t suppress the shudder that rippled through her. Eduard rolled his eyes. “Really, Catherine, your constant quivering begins to wear on me. ’Tis not as if you’re an untouched maid about to be deflowered.” Grasping her hand, he pushed it and the knife she held to the table. “Just don’t fail to act that part when you join Camville in his bedchamber, or complicationswill arise that might be less than pleasant for you and your