A Kingdom of Dreams Read online

  She started to walk out of the woods, but his voice stopped her in her tracks. "Jennifer," he said in that tone of implacable authority she was coming to loathe, "you'll ride beside me the rest of the way."

  "I'd rather not," she said flatly, without turning. She would have drowned herself rather than let him see how much he'd hurt her, and so she added, haltingly, "It's your men—I've been sleeping in your tent, but Gawin has always been there. If I eat with you and ride beside you they'll… misinterpret… things."

  "What my men think matters not," Royce replied, but that wasn't entirely true and he knew it. By openly treating Jenny as his "guest," he'd been rapidly losing face with the tired, loyal men who'd fought beside him. And not all his army obeyed him out of loyalty. Among the mercenaries, there were thieves and murderers, men who followed him because he kept bread in their bellies and because they feared the consequences should they dare to disobey. He ruled them with his strength. But whether they were loyal knights or common mercenaries, they all believed it was Royce's right, his duty, to throw her down and mount her, to use her body to humble her as the enemy deserved to be humbled.

  "Of course it doesn't matter," Jenny said bitterly as the full force of her surrender in his arms hit her with all its humiliating clarity. "It isn't your reputation 'twill be slaughtered, 'tis mine."

  In a tone of calm finality he stated, "They'll think whatever it suits them to think. When you return to your horse, have your escort bring you forward."

  Wordlessly, Jennifer cast a look of utter loathing at him, lifted her chin, and walked out of the clearing, her slender hips swaying with unconscious regal grace.

  Despite the fact she'd only looked at him for a second before she'd walked out of the woods, Jenny had registered the odd light in his eyes and the indefinable smile lurking at the corner of his lips. She had no idea what was behind it, she only knew his smile increased her fury until it completely eclipsed her misery.

  Had Stefan Westmoreland, or Sir Eustace, or Sir Godfrey been present to see that look, they could have told her what it presaged, and their explanation would have upset Jenny far more than she already was: Royce Westmoreland looked exactly as he did when he was about to storm a particularly challenging, desirable castle and claim it for his own. It meant that he would not be deterred by the odds or the opposition. It meant that he was already pleasantly contemplating victory.

  Whether the men had somehow glimpsed their embrace through the trees, or whether it was because they'd heard her laughing with him, as Jenny walked stiffly back to her horse, she was subjected to leering gazes and knowing looks that surpassed anything she'd had to endure since her capture.

  Unhurriedly, Royce strolled out of the woods and glanced at Arik. "She'll ride with us." He walked over to the horse Gawin was holding for him, and his knights automatically went to their horses, swinging into saddles with the ease of men who spent great portions of their lives on horseback. Behind them, the rest of the army followed suit, obeying an order before it was given.

  His captive, however, chose to flagrantly disobey an order that had been given, and did not join him at the front of the column when it moved forward. Royce reacted to that piece of tempestuous rebellion with amused admiration for her courage, then he turned to Arik and said with a suppressed chuckle, "Go and get her."

  Now that Royce had finally reached the decision to have her and was no longer waging an internal battle against desire, he was in excellent spirits. He found the prospect of soothing and winning her while they rode toward Hardin infinitely appealing. At Hardin, they would have the luxury of a soft bed and ample privacy; in the meantime, he would have the undeniable pleasure of her company for the rest of today and tonight.

  It did not occur to him that the gentle, innocent temptress who'd surrendered in his arms both times he held her, who'd returned his passion with such intoxicating sweetness, might no longer be quite so easy to soothe. In battle he was undefeated, and the idea of being defeated now, by a girl whose desire for him was nearly as great as his for her, was beyond consideration. He wanted her, wanted her more than he would have believed possible, and he intended to have her. Not on her terms, of course, but he was willing to make concessions—reasonable concessions that, at the moment, seemed vaguely to call for splendid furs and jewels, as well as the respect she would be entitled to receive as his mistress from all who served him.

  Jenny saw the giant riding purposefully toward the rear of the column at the same time she remembered the laughter she'd seen on Royce's face when she left him, and the wrath that burst inside of her made her head pound.

  Swiveling his charger in a tight circle, Arik reined in sharply beside her and coolly raised his brows. He was, Jenny understood with infuriated clarity, silently ordering her to ride to the front with him. Jenny, however, was so overwrought she was beyond being intimidated. Feigning complete lack of knowledge as to the reason for his presence, she pointedly turned her head and began to speak to Brenna: "Have you observed—" she began and broke off with a start as Arik deftly reached out and grabbed the reins of Jenny's mare.

  "Unhand my horse!" she snapped, jerking on the poor little mare's reins with enough force to pull the mare's nose to the sky. The horse swiveled and danced sideways in confusion, and Jenny turned her pent-up fury on the invulnerable emissary of her enemy. Glowering at Arik, she hauled back on her left rein. "Take your hand away!"

  Pale blue eyes regarded her with cold indifference, but he was, at least, forced to speak, and Jenny reveled in that tiny victory: "Come!"

  Her rebellious eyes locked with his pale blue ones, Jenny hesitated, and then, because she knew he'd merely force her to do his bidding, she snapped, "Then kindly move out of my way!"

  The mile ride to the front of the column was possibly the most humbling event of Jenny's young life. Until today, she'd been kept out of sight of most of the men or else flanked by knights. Now, male heads swiveled as she came abreast, and lewd eyes stayed riveted on her slender form as she continued past them. Comments were made upon her person, the general shape of her person, and the specific shapes of her shapes—comments of a nature so personal that she was sorely tempted to whip the little mare to a gallop.

  When she reached Royce at the front of the column, he could not help smiling at the tempestuous young beauty who was regarding him with such blazing defiance; she looked exactly as she had the night she stabbed him with his own dagger. "It would seem," he teased, "that I've somehow fallen into disfavor."

  "You," she replied, with every ounce of scorn she could put into her voice, "are unspeakable!"

  He chuckled. "That bad?"

  Chapter Eight

  By the time they were nearing Hardin castle late the following day, Royce was no longer feeling quite so affable. Instead of enjoying her wit as he'd hoped to do, he found himself riding beside a young woman who responded to his teasing comments or serious observations with a blank, polite stare designed to make him feel like a court jester with bells on his hat. Today, she had changed her tactic. Now, instead of treating him to silence, she responded to any remark of his by asking him a question about things which he could not and would not discuss with her—-such as the date he planned to attack Merrick, the number of men he intended to bring with him, and how long he meant to keep her prisoner.

  If her intent was to illustrate to him in the clearest possible way that she was the victim of brute force, and that he was the brute, she'd achieved her goal. If her intent was to annoy him, she was beginning to succeed there, too.

  Jennifer was not unaware that she'd managed to ruin the journey for him, but she was not as delighted with her success as Royce supposed. In fact, as she scanned the craggy hills for some sign of a castle, she felt little more than exhaustion from the strain of trying to understand the enigmatic male beside her, and her own reactions to him. The earl had told her he wanted her, and he obviously wanted her badly enough to tolerate two days of rudeness from her, which was somewhat soothing to her