Page 76 of The Guardian's Witch

“Good, I see you understand,” said Bryce.

“You know he’s not a traitor. Why are you doing this?” She stumbled to keep up with him.

“Things have started you cannot begin to understand. He’s a good enough man but...”

Remorse echoed in his voice. “I can’t help the traitor although with your cooperation I may be able to get his sentence commuted to the Tower of London.”

“My cooperation? What must I do?” Her mind was a mixture of hope and fear.

He brought her to a halt. They were on the far side of the room out of earshot. He stood in front of her, his arm braced on the wall beside her head, his right knee between her legs. With her back against the wall her capture was complete.

He took the back of his free hand and stroked the side of her face. “How soft and tender to the touch.”

An uncomfortable shiver raced through her.

“What you must do—we will marry once things are settled about Alex.” The conviction was back in his voice.

“You want to marry me?” Lisbeth was confused.

His caustic glare was followed by a lecherous smirk. “Yes, marry you.”

She was appalled at his nerve. “I’m already married. Even if Alex is found guilty.” Her heart sank at the thought. “No gentleman would ask such a thing...” She lifted her chin and met his icy stare.

“Ah Lisbeth, where politics is concerned there are no gentlemen. You’re caught in its web, as I am.”

She scanned the room for support.

“And don’t seek help from the Steltons. You wouldn’t want anything to befall them like it did Richard?” He took her chin with his forefinger and tipped up her face to peer into her eyes. “Would you?”

The mention of Richard and Bryce’s veiled threat didn’t go unnoticed. She didn’t answer. She didn’t trust herself. She shook her head.

“Good, then we have an agreement.” He pushed away from the wall and, with an afterthought, turned to her. “And none of your little tricks or I’ll have your tongue cut out. What a pity since I can think of such wonderful things to teach you to do with it.”

“How are you involved with Richard’s death?” she finally demanded.

He brushed his hand down her neck. His hand rested around her throat. “He was a causality of war. Not necessarily the Welsh War.”

All those years ago, when they were children, she’d seen the glint of the blade when Richard and Bryce played soldier, and again when Richard was on the battlefield. It was Bryce. Knowing didn’t make it any easier but it did make her more determined.

He stepped back from her, placed her hand on his arm, and took her to the center of the room.

The closer she got to the king, the greater her resolve. She would never let Alex be branded a traitor. She would do whatever was necessary.

When Bryce was waylaid by some courtiers, she took advantage of the interruption and wandered away from him. She knew he watched her. She forced herself to keep her face from showing the loathing she felt for him.Alex. The thought gave her determination and eased her fear. A plan started to form. All she needed was courage. There would be no turning back once she set things in motion. She must not fail.

“Your Majesty.”

“Yes.” Edward turned to the soldier.

“Sire, we searched the dungeon where the prisoner was held. We found these on the floor.”

Everyone turned to see Gareth’s dress gloves handed to the king.

Gareth felt his belt. His gloves were gone. When he looked up he was surrounded by the king’s guards.

Bryce looked at Lisbeth, a smug smile on his lips. “My men have volunteered to assist your guards. They stand with them ready to protect Glen Kirk and you, sire.”

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