Page 1 of A Husband for Esyllt
Prologue
“Thank you. You can leave us.”
At Esyllt’s command, the two guards bowed and left the room. Once the sound of their footsteps had been swallowed by the spiral staircase, she looked at the man they had deposited on the chair she had readied in preparation for him. Following her instructions, they had not only covered his eyes and bound his wrists but they had also tied him to the back of the chair.
A smile curved her lips.
He was not going anywhere, at least not until she’d had what she wanted from him.
Taking advantage of the fact that he couldn’t see her, she looked her fill. Far from ranting and writhing in protest, Lord Sheridan’s squire was sitting stock still and his breathing was even and calm, much calmer than her own. It unnerved her. If he didn’t feel in a position of inferiority, then she wasn’t quite sure how she would gain the upper hand. Intimidation had never been her weapon of choice, and she wasn’t sure how to wield it in front of such a man. That he was a seasoned warrior was obvious from his physique, and that he was used to dealing with womenintent on seducing him was all too clear. The way he had ogled her during the banquet had been indecent.
That was the only word she could think of to describe it. Indecent. And it had made her body burst into flames.
Esyllt swallowed hard. Had she not been too presumptuous? Perhaps. She had neither the strength to fight a warrior nor the skill to handle a seducer. In truth, she even lacked the will to go through with this mad plan of hers.
Still, he was here now, so she had better not waste the opportunity, because there would not be another.
Silently, she edged closer. After one last glance at his perfect chest molded in a tight tunic, she set about untying the cloth from his eyes. The gesture was disturbingly intimate, something she had not anticipated. Perhaps she should have asked one of the guards to do that for her because, sitting as he was, the squire’s mouth was level with her breasts. Though she reminded herself that he was not here for her pleasure, she could not help but shiver at the thought of him placing his lips on her.
Damnation, she should have approached him from behind to untie the knot, it would have been a lot less intimate. From such close quarters, he could probably smell the floral water she liked to dabble between her breasts and if he moved but an inch forward, he would touch her.
When the cloth finally fell to the floor, she took a step backward to look at him.
The man lifted his eyes to hers. Oh, those eyes! She had no choice but to call them green, but they looked almost transparent, and his dark coloring only made them more piercing. Black stubble covered his jaw, and his short hair was disheveled, testimony to the fact that he had been dragged to her bedchamber straight from bed. His mouth was set in a hard, disapproving line. Oh, that mouth! The sensual curve of his lips made her blood run ten times faster in her veins.
“Would you care to explain what is happening, my lady?” he said when it became obvious she was too fascinated to speak.
A shiver traveled down Esyllt’s spine. The gruff voice made it clear he was beside himself with fury, even if he appeared calm. She had better get this over with as quickly as she could.
“Your master and I are to be married at dawn.”
His arched brow indicated he was already aware of the fact and did not see what it had to do with his abduction. She carried on, making sure to look anywhere but at him. It was one thing admitting to her rash plan, quite another doing so while looking him in the eye.
“It is not my wish to be married again, much less to an Englishman, but I have not been given any choice, as you can imagine. I’m only a woman, after all. My personal preferences do not count. The whole thing has been decided without my consent by the local Welsh lords for reasons I do not agree with.”
That was the least she could say.
Freshly widowed, she was to be used as a pawn in their game of domination. At first, she had been surprised to hear Gruffydd ap Hywel, one of her late husband’s friends, who was fiercely opposed to the English rule, demand that she marry a man he considered an oppressor, but she had quickly seen that he merely meant to use this union as a way of ridding himself of a powerful lord. Once married and settled in a hostile land, away from allies who would never even get to hear of his disappearance, Lord Sheridan was to be disposed of. Though she didn’t agree with those underhand methods, Esyllt had not been able to voice her protests. She was only a woman, as she’d said, and thus unfit to have an opinion, much less behave in accordance to it.
She looked at the man on the chair, hoping he would sympathize with her plight. His stern stare indicated that he did not, however, so she carried on.
“I cannot refuse to marry Lord Sheridan. However, ifhewere to decide that he would rather not marry me after all, then it would be quite diff?—”
The man did not even let her finish. “What makes you think he would change his mind now? He’s been negotiating this union for weeks, enduring endless discussions in the process, he’s traveled for days in foul weather to come and claim his Welsh bride. He’s hardly going to cry off now because you took his squire hostage.”
Despite the uncomfortable and humiliating position she had put him in, the man spoke calmly. Esyllt could not help but admire his equanimity. Her task would have been a whole lot easier if he had been a more impressionable man. Alas, there was nothing meek about him.
“I am not taking you hostage,” was all she could say.
“Am I to assume this is how guests are treated in Wales then?” A glance at the ropes binding him to the chair made his meaning clear. “A most endearing custom, to be sure.”
Esyllt bit her bottom lip. His composure was unsettling. True, she posed no real threat to him but still, she had imagined a proud warrior would be furious to find himself bested by a woman. He didn’t appear furious, only mocking.
The time for arguing was over. She had to get on with the second part of the plan.
“In a moment Lord Sheridan is going to walk into this room. My men have gone to get him. When he enters, he will find his bride and his squire... coupling.”
The word, or rather the image it created in her mind, sent heat to her cheeks.
