The Conquest Read online

  "Aye," Tearle answered. "She has her heart set on Colbrand, but she knew her father favored you, so she made sure you were no longer a contender for her hand. She made everyone laugh at you."

  Severn looked at Tearle. "A woman did this?" he whispered. "This was no Howard trick?"

  "I can guarantee it was no Howard trick." Tearle glanced at Zared. "Perhaps Lady Anne thought it was a great joke."

  Zared could see blood staining Severn's neck as his anger seemed to rise from somewhere deep inside himself.

  "A joke?" he said. "I have been made to look like less than a man, and she believes it to be a joke? She has made even the lowest of the low laugh at me. Me! A Peregrine. Who is she? Naught but the rich daughter of a trumped-up merchant, while I…" He trailed off, no longer able to speak.

  "Where is she?" Severn managed to croak out after a while.

  "Eating dinner, I believe," Tearle said cheerfully. He released the woman from his grip, but she did not move.

  "I will show her what it means to be laughed at," Severn said.

  "My lord," the woman cried, "you cannot—"

  Severn pushed past her and left the tent, the woman following him, begging him not to harm Lady Anne.

  "What have you done?" Zared hissed at Tearle.

  He smiled innocently. "I do not yet know what I have done, but based on your brother's temper, I can guess."

  Zared didn't waste more time talking to him but ran after her brother. Maybe she could stop the worst of whatever Severn planned to do. Maybe she could prevent him from making the Peregrine name more of an object of ridicule.

  Zared ran, Tearle right behind her. "I'll kill you for this," she yelled over her shoulder at him. Why in the world had she ever believed him when he'd said he could get Anne Marshall married to a Peregrine? After Severn made his accusations to Hugh Marshall people were going to laugh at them even more than they had.

  She reached the Great Hall just as Severn reached the high table where Hugh sat, his daughters on either side of him. Hundreds of men and women ate and drank at the long tables set up in the hall.

  Zared started to run to her brother to stop whatever foolishness he intended, but the accursed Howard man grabbed her about the waist, put his hand over her mouth, and pulled her into a shadow. No one would have noticed had he torn her arms off, for all eyes were on Severn, his handsome face enraged as he glared down at Anne.

  Severn didn't look at anyone else in the hall except her. He leaned across the table, grabbed her by the shoulders, and pulled her up. She screamed at him, and more than a dozen men drew their daggers and started for Severn, but Hugh Marshall put his hand up to halt the men. He was fascinated and eager to see what the big man was planning for his daughter.

  When Anne was halfway up Severn caught her waist and dragged her across the table. When Anne saw that her father was going to allow no man to rescue her she began to fight for all she was worth. She beat Severn with her fists and kicked out at him, trying to hit him, but she succeeded only in knocking over wine pitchers, goblets, platters of meat, trays of vegetables.

  "Unhand me!" she screamed. "Father!"

  When the guests realized the performance was sanctioned by Hugh they sat back down and began to enjoy the spectacle.

  Once Anne was on Severn's side of the table he tucked her, screaming, kicking, clawing, under his arm and hooked his foot over a bench. He pulled the bench to the middle of the space between tables—the space left for acrobats and other such performers— and sat on it.

  "Help me!" Anne screamed. "Someone, I pray you, help me."

  Severn tossed Anne across his knees, flung all but one of her petticoats over her back, and applied his hand to her firm little buttocks.

  Whack! "That is for the mud in my helmet," he said. Another whack! "And that is for the mud on my face."

  It was at that moment that the diners began to understand what it was about. They knew enough about the slovenly Peregrine ways, and they had had ample time to observe the too-fastidious ways of the beautiful Lady Anne, and all they had to do was put one and one together.

  Hugh Marshall was the first to laugh. It was a joy to him to see his too-clever daughter brought low in such a way.

  "And for the sawed lances," Severn said, applying his hand at each sentence he spoke. "And the honey. And the banner."

  Anne stopped struggling at the first sound of laughter. Her fear was replaced by anger and hatred. She clenched her fists, gritted her teeth, and refused to cry at her humiliation. For humiliation it was. He was not hitting her hard, just enough to sting—and that, if possible, made her even angrier.

  The huge old Great Hall echoed with laughter, the laughter of everyone: guests, servants, entertainers, children, even the dogs started scampering about.

  At long last Severn pulled Anne's skirts down and stood her upright before him while he still sat on the bench. The crowd quieted as they waited to hear what Severn had to say.

  "That should teach you to play tricks on men."

  With him sitting and Anne standing they were nearly at eye level. He wore a smug look of triumph. She spit in his face.

  The crowd hushed.

  Severn, after a second's anger, grabbed her by the back of the neck and pulled her to him, and after a second to look at her he put his mouth on hers.

  The crowd began to laugh and applaud, and when Severn continued holding Anne and didn't break the long, hard kiss they began to stamp their feet in approval.

  Anne fought him throughout the kiss, but she was no match for his strength.

  When at last he pulled away from her Severn picked her up in his arms, walked toward the table, and proceeded to drop her, bottom first, onto her father's half-eaten plate of food.

  "I suggest you keep closer watch on your daughter," Severn said loudly, then he turned to leave the hall.

  The people were laughing again, but now, he thought, they weren't laughing at him.

  Throughout Tearle had been holding Zared against him. He hadn't had to hold her mouth to keep her quiet, and he probably hadn't had to hold her at all, but he refused to release her.

  As Severn started to leave, the beautiful Lady Anne left behind on a large plate of pork, Zared jerked away from him. "Now Hugh Marshall will never allow his daughter to marry a Peregrine," she hissed.

  "Halt!" Hugh Marshall shouted, and the entire hall grew quiet instantly.

  Severn stopped where he was, his hand ready to go to his sword in order to defend himself. Zared stepped from the shadows, ready to fight beside her brother.

  Slowly Severn turned to look at Hugh Marshall.

  Hugh stood, and when Anne tried to get off the table he pushed her back down.

  "I have something to say to you, Peregrine."

  "I can hear you."

  There wasn't a sound from any of the hundreds of people in the big room. They held their breaths. Would the fierce old Hugh declare war on the poor Peregrines for the way his daughter had been humiliated?

  Anne turned and glared in triumph at Severn, her arms across her chest, her bottom in pork roast, her feet in cabbage stew. She hoped her father would order a particularly vile death for the man.

  "It is my wish," Hugh said into the silence, "that you…" He took a breath and looked about the room. "I would be honored, sir, if you'd take my daughter in marriage."

  The roof nearly fell in at the explosion of laughter.

  Zared's mouth fell open as she watched her brother's chest swell in pride. Swaggering, Severn made his way to the high table, then leaned across Anne as though she weren't there, tore a leg off a roast pig, sat on the table near Anne's head, and began to eat.

  "How much gold do you give me to take the wench off your hands?"

  The crowd was laughing so hard they could hardly stay on the benches, and how Severn loved it! He was going to take his time in the wedding negotiations and enjoy this moment when the crowd wasn't laughing at his family.

  Zared stood where she was, watching as Sev