In the Shadow of Midnight - By Marsha Canham Page 0,150

right man.

This man, she realized dreamily.

With this newfound pride in her own femininity bristling through her like a rash, Ariel lifted her head out of the snug cradle of his shoulder, intending to share the discovery with him. But Eduard was asleep. Soundly, deeply, blissfully asleep, with just the vaguest hint of a smile on his lips to suggest she did not have to tell him anything. He already knew.

Chapter 21

Eduard was still asleep several hours later when a loud, urgent knock sounded on the outer door. The room was dark save for the low flame of the night candle, and it guttered to the brink of extinction as a sudden draft rushed across the bed. Eduard, quick as a cat, was on his feet and melting in the shadows as Henry came barging through to the bedchamber.

“Ariel? Ariel—are you awake?”

Ariel, scrambling to pull the bedsheets up to shield her nudity, pushed her hair out of her eyes and stared at her brother as he drew near the bed.

“Ariel … rub the sleep out of your eyes,” he hissed urgently. “We have trouble. Brevant has just been to see me. A man was admitted to the castle not an hour ago bringing news that the king’s ship has dropped anchor in Christchurch. The Leopard himself will be upon us before noon.”

Ariel was struck dumb—by the news, and by the sight of Henry standing beside her bed, superimposed in front of the naked, amber-lit spectre of Eduard FitzRandwulf, his back against the wall, his sword gleaming in the revived light of the candle. Her vision clouded briefly with the threat of a faint, a faint that grew proportionately stronger as Henry’s nervous pacing carried him around to the foot of the bed.

“If we are to have any chance to steal the princess, it must be done now, before the rest of the castle is awakened to make preparations for the king. Brevant has looked high and low for FitzRandwulf, but he is nowhere to be found. In the process of looking, however, he found something else. He—” Henry stopped and his breath huffed from his lungs on an angry curse. His foot had become tangled in something, and, thinking it to be an article of Ariel’s clothing, he bent over to pick it up. While he was down there, his eyes were drawn to another crumpled heap … and another. He was able to identify each without too much difficulty once he recognized the black studded surcoat he clutched in his hand. A man’s belt, a shirt, a pair of braies … a pair of cuffed leather boots …

It took another moment of stunned disbelief while he gaped at the bed, at the obviously naked and dishevelled figure of his sister, before he could straighten completely and turn slowly to acknowledge the glint of reflected light coming from the shadows.

Eduard lowered his sword. He was still in the half-crouched position he had assumed when he thought it was Gisbourne’s men bursting in on them. To judge by the look on Henry’s face, he was not all that sure he would not have welcomed the sight of soldiers more.

“You … bastard!” Henry exploded.

“Henry,” Ariel gasped. “Please … I can explain …”

“Explain?” The hot fury of her brother’s eyes shot back to the bed. “Explain what? Explain what you are doing naked in bed together? Christ Jesus, girl, I think I can guess that much by myself. Or perhaps you were going to explain why? Why you are naked in his bed, stinking of sweat and lust, when you were supposedly so eager, so determined to savour these fleshly delights with your intended groom!”

“Henry … I know it comes as a bit of a shock—”

“A shock? A shock to find you spreading your charms for the Bastard of Amboise? Nay, nay, sister dearest—” He paused and folded his arms across his chest. “It comes as no shock. A surprise, mayhap, that it took you so long to cull the stallion out of the herd.”

“Henry, I would have a care,” Eduard began, his voice low and held in check with an obvious effort.

“No!” barked the enraged lord. He held out a hand and thrust his finger up in warning. “You should have a care, sirrah. You should not speak yet. You should not utter one bloody word until I fetter this overwhelming desire to tear your heart out through your throat. What,” he demanded, turning back to Ariel “were you thinking? What could you