slice of the blade. Riana jumped at the ring of steel against steel. Sir Bryant swung his sword low. Lord Camden deflected the blow and retreated a step. His face contorted in rage and he leapt forward, parrying left, then right. Sir Bryant met each strike, then swung his blade downwards and sliced Lord Camden’s thigh. The thin fabric slit open and blood stained his hose. Lord Camden jabbed. His sword nicked the sleeve of Sir Bryant’s gambeson.
Riana’s heart leapt into her throat when Sir Bryant dodged the swipe of the earl’s blade across his belly. Sir Bryant pivoted, bringing his sword across the earl’s sword above the hilt. Lord Camden cursed, and Sir Bryant thrust. The tip pierced the earl’s side. His rage-filled cry split the air as he charged.
Sir Bryant backed away, his sword glinting in the sunlight. Riana squinted at the flash of light. Lord Camden swung hard, forcing Sir Bryant’s blade down, and leapt forward. He snagged Sir Bryant’s ankle with his own and yanked as he punched his belly. Sir Bryant hit the ground with a thud. Riana leapt forward, but was seized around the waist and pulled against a large body. She clawed at the arm banded around her. Lord Camden raised his sword above Sir Bryant’s heart and drove it downwards.
“No!” she screamed. Tears streamed down her cheeks.
Sir Bryant deflected the blade with his free arm and rammed his sword into the earl’s belly.
Riana froze.
Lord Camden stiffened. He stared at Sir Bryant in wide-eyed disbelief.
“You will never again fuck another woman.” Sir Bryant gave a vicious twist of his sword inside the earl’s belly.
Blood gushed from the wound. Sir Bryant yanked his sword free and rolled to the side as Lord Camden clutched his belly and crashed to his knees. The earl’s mouth worked as if he was trying to say something, then he fell face-forward onto the ground. Only Sir Bryant’s deep breaths broke the thick silence.
Then the duchess spoke. “You will hang for murder.”
Sir Bryant shoved himself to his feet. “The right of single combat protects me, Your Grace.”
Riana didn’t breathe in the tense moment that passed before the earl’s men turned and headed around the castle walls. A moment later, the duchess stood without protection.
* * * *
Sir Bryant caught Riana to him as she flung herself into his arms. He stumbled back a pace at the force of her weight head-on. She was crying into his gambeson.
“Forgive me.”
She gave him a feminine punch to the stomach. He sucked in a breath.
“You are a fool for coming here,” she blubbered. More tears followed.
“This is not the reward I had in mind,” he said.
She looked up. Tears shimmered in her eyes. She stared for a moment, then his heart stilled when she slid her hand up his chest and around his neck. Riana lifted onto tiptoes and pulled his mouth to hers. She brushed his lips with her own, moist and swollen from the effects of her tears. She leaned in to him, pressing her lush breasts against his chest, and flicked her tongue at his mouth. Her taste burst across his senses and the still-strange rush of emotion washed over him. He loved her.
Sir Bryant crushed her to him. He sucked her tongue into his mouth, tasting, sparring, thrusting as he was going to do inside her channel. His cock jerked to life with painful hardness. He pushed his tongue deeper. She moaned.
She was his.
But wait. She wasn’t his. Not fully. They were no longer man and wife.
Bryant broke the kiss, breathing hard. Her fingers tightened around his neck. She struggled to meet his lips again. He pulled free, grasped her hand and started around the castle walls.
She tripped, and he righted her. “My lord,” she cried. “If you wish to spread my legs—”
“Spread your legs?” He gave her a hard yank, dragging her alongside as he would a recalcitrant mule.
“That is the reward you spoke of?” She hurried to keep up with his stride.
“Lady, before I spread your legs even one more time, we shall be fully and truly married.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Riana stepped from the bathtub and into the waiting bath linen held by the young girl Mrs Carpenter had instructed to assist with her bath. Warmth from red-hot coals in the fireplace bathed her skin. She shivered, then recalled her similar reaction only five days ago, when she had stood naked beside the hearth in the bedchamber meant for Sir Dunbar.
A lump rose in her throat. Father Vaughn had