Gemma blinked. Her eyes were playing tricks on her. It could not be Nicholas. Her fingers were as cold as the icy river waters outside the castle walls, and her heart seemed to have stopped. Everything had ceased to move, and she reeled, feeling she was standing alone in the world, facing the man who had terrorized her dreams for seven years.
She wanted to move, to run, to flee from all she was feeling right then, but her feet stayed firmly fixed to the hard-packed earth beneath them. It was as if she were in a dream. Everything in her mind told her to run, but she could not. Something was holding her feet there, though danger was breathing down her neck.
"It cannot be," she said in a small voice, the words trailing off into nothingness.
"Ah, but it is," Nicholas's deep voice penetrated the fog forming around her brain. "'Twould seem your family's plot to be rid of me did not work. I am here and ready to take my revenge."
The world crashed around her, but she held her head up. She stared at the men on horseback behind him. They regarded their new surroundings and spoke to each other in hushed tones. These men were not going to be of any assistance. Feelings of despair and weakness erupted within her, but she pushed them back.
"How dare you show up here? You tried to turn our family over to the Empress Matilda, and it did not work. Have you come here to finish the job? Are you behind the accidents in my home? Do you hate me so you would harm my father?"
Her green eyes were now on fire. The sneer on Nicholas's face had gone and was replaced with a look of boredom, though his eyes shined as he faced her, refusing to back away.
"I have dreamt of this moment for so long," he said. She boldly met his gaze, knowing if she did not, he would sense her weakness With false bravado, she tried to remain aloof, calm, and in command, all the while throwing up a façade of control. The safety of her people depended on her every move.
Familiar brown eyes stared straight through her. They were a glowing brown with a hint of gold. His dark hair was long, but not as long as it was when he was younger. It fell over his eyes and down his neck and fluttered in the wind just enough to draw attention to the strong line of his neck and his broad shoulders.
"Why would…" She started so speak, but he did not let her finish.
"I have lived my life to get revenge upon you and the family who uprooted my parents and made them slaves. I have toiled and battled my way to knighthood under Stephen and then the heavy hand of King Henry. I have fought hard for the king, and he has rewarded me more thoroughly than even he could understand."
His face had hardened since she last saw him, but in the most fascinating way. He was attractive to her then, but now, now he was a man and he looked the part. She could never have imagined how handsome he would become. Why had she yet to have him removed from the bailey and thrown out into the river?
"Why are you here?" she said with confidence she did not feel. Her hands clenched at her side as she stood as tall as she could in his rigid presence.
"Haven't you figured it out, Gemma? My dear, sweet Gemma," he spat out. There was a growl in his voice. "Did you or did you not send your father's seneschal Oliver de Toeni to the king for assistance?"
"Y-y-yes, I did," she stammered, "but I do not see what that has to do with you. You still haven't told me why you are here." Her thoughts raced to a heart-stopping conclusion. Henry had sent him to protect the castle until her father was well again. She would have to put up with him for a fortnight or two, and then he would be gone. It would take some effort, but she could manage to avoid him in that time and care for her father.
Her hopefulness dissolved quickly when he spoke again. "I have a letter from the king that explains it all, my love. We are to be wed."
Gemma spun on her heels and strode with purpose toward the great hall. She could no longer stand before him without falling apart, and she would not wed this man. It made no sense to her. Angry retorts filled her mind as she walked as quickly as she could so she could be alone to determine how to be rid of him. His power over her senses was all consuming. Structured thought was no longer possible.
Her father knew she refused to marry, and the same person who taught her love was for fools was the one who now stood on her land and demanded her hand. Why had the king done this? She did not know the king at all, of course, but her father had spent time with him and found him to be a demanding but fair man. He was a king who had taken control of the lands, which were in disarray under the rule of Stephen, but did not overstep propriety with his vassals.
Once inside the hall, she peered back and took a peek out into the bailey. Nicholas's men followed him to the stables. Oliver was there. He had returned with Nicholas but had said nothing. Hope faded as she realized Oliver would protect her if he could, but he had said nothing. Her heart sank once more.
The seneschal handed the reins of his destrier to a stable boy and walked toward the hall to join her.
"This cannot happen!" she said. She was in a panic as he sat down near where she was pacing in front of the fireplace, rapidly moving back and forth as if she were chasing away her demons. "I will not marry that brute. He tried to harm my family once, and now Henry has sent him to protect us? This does not make any sense. I will not stand for this!"
Oliver said nothing. He simply watched her.
She stopped for a moment and threw her arms in the air.
"I fear what he has said is true." Oliver lowered his head and wiped sweat from his brow with his forearm. "'Tis too late to turn back. I went to Henry and saw him straight away. He had his eye on Blackstone Castle, as it remains a key defense for him. He wanted to make sure all is well here. It did not take him long to send Nicholas. It is my understanding he has the king's highest regard, and he has served him well."
"I do not care if he led all of England against the devil himself and won," Gemma said, as she slowed her steps and tried to lower her voice. "He is the last man I would wed, should I ever agree to such a disgrace."
"I am confused, milady," the seneschal admitted, running a gloved hand through the shock of gray hair on his head. "You know of Nicholas de Reymes?"
"Know of him? His family sent him to spy on us long ago. They wanted to help Matilda take over our castle so she could finally take England from Stephen. I was young, eleven, no, twelve years old, so young, and I thought I was in love but he…" She finally trailed off, having said more about what happened between her and Nicholas than she has ever said to anyone. She raised her head. "Father has never mentioned the de Reymes' to you?"
"So you do know him then." Oliver de Toeni stood as one of the men-at-arms came to help him remove his chain-mail. "And nay, dear. I do not know much of the de Reymes' family. Your father told me a story long ago when they disappeared, but I cannot remember it. It had something to do with your family, but I remember him waving the story off as if it were untrue. I'm not sure he believed it. He has not mentioned them since then."
She nodded as she ceased to move. Glancing off at the flames dancing in the fireplace, she wondered what happened and where it all went wrong.
"I cannot marry him, Oliver. I cannot."
"You can and you will," he said. "We have no other options, so you have no choice. If your father awakens, he may object. However, if he does not, you will be wed in five days. It is to protect the lands. The king cannot have a lady commanding one of his key castles. You are strong, but others only know of your sex and would assume Blackstone an easy target. Without your father, and with your brother missing, he felt he had no choice. You will marry de Reymes."
"He cannot force me! My father is still alive," she shot back.
"As far as Henry is concerned, you father is unable to make any decisions or to uphold his duties as vassal. This means he can make any orders he wishes," he stated, as if he was repeating what was told to him. He softened his voice. "My dear, the king could order this with your father in his best health. There is nothing to be done."
"I will not do it. I will not let that man touch me. He will not be the lord of this castle!" she spat out. Her anger renewed itself with heightened intensity. "Do you not understand, Oliver? He betrayed us!"
"Gemma, I…" He began but did not finish. He pulled off a glove, reached up, and scratched the back of his neck.
"I wish to be alone," she said in a tired voice.
After a long minute of silence he said, "Your father wished you to marry Phillip Bigod. I know he was not your first choice, nor am I sure he would be a good husband. However, a marriage would have protected you and your family from this mess. This is your only option now. I am sorry, Gemma."
She ignored him and moved slowly but deliberately away. Taking a candle, she went to the steps to retreat to her quarters in the solar. There she could think of a way out of this mess without every man and woman within the castle walls staring at her, wondering what was going on.
It wasn't Nicholas who broke her reprieve; it was Phillip Bigod. Gemma had been in her room for a short time, desperately trying to think of a way out of her current predicament, when Leda went up to see her.
"Milady, there be no one else around, so I came to find ye. Phillip Bigod awaits ye in the hall. There be much confusion outside for some reason, and he arrived just a bit ago. Once questioned by that Nicholas person, he be allowed to enter. He wishes to see ye."
A loud sigh escaped Gemma's lips before she stood, wiped her eyes, and smoothed out the skirt of her kirtle. Someone must tell Phillip to go away. She could not imagine why he had come, other than to ask yet again for her hand. He made her skin crawl. Any woman would come to a nasty end as his wife, of that she was sure. Even now, she would rather face Nicholas and his wrath than to be chained to an oafish lout like Phillip Bigod.
She briskly entered the darkened hall and saw Phillip standing near the fire. There was nothing about the man she liked. He was shorter than most men, and he had a rash of red hair atop an abnormally round head. The man was built like the other Bigod men, with a wide, barrel-shaped midsection that seemed too large for his thin, scrawny legs. Like his father, he always dressed well, but that was the only redeeming quality in his appearance she could find.
More significantly, he was a miserable person with delusions of being important. His smile never reached his eyes, and he always seemed to be looking over his shoulder. There were stories of him beating servants in his home. She imagined what a man like Phillip would do to his wife and children over time. His family home, Renoir Castle, was less than an hour on horseback from Blackstone, which was too close as far as she was concerned.
In an attempt to appear as if nothing was wrong, she smiled as brightly as she could and walked toward Phillip. She tugged Leda's hand so she knew to stay nearby.
"But milady," Leda said in a loud whisper, "I must prepare food for the late arrivals and those who missed the meal this eve."
"This will just take a moment."
"May I talk to you alone, milady?" Phillip said to her as she neared with Leda right on her heels.
"Phillip, you know that would not be proper. There is nothing you can say to me you cannot say in front of Leda."
"I came to see about your father and to offer help finding your brother," he said. The tone of his voice made Gemma uneasy. It was the same feeling she always had when he was near.
"Thank you," she said, remaining composed. She marveled at how fast news, especially bad news, seemed to travel. "Father is not well. Though he seems healthy, he does not rise from his sleep."
His voice lowered and his eyes closed into a squint. She watched as he licked his lips and took a small step toward her. A shudder went up her spine. "I could help. I can offer protection. All you have to do is to take me up on my offer. We could be wed as soon as the morrow. You will never have to worry again. My family will protect you and your father."
"That is quite enough," a deep voice boomed through the hall. All three jumped. Nicholas walked toward them with long, swift strides. He had removed his mail and helmet yet still resembled a lord on the warpath. Gemma was awestruck. He was truly no longer the boy she remembered.
Startled, Phillip backed away from Gemma a few steps but tried to puff himself up. He thrust his chin upward and pushed his chest forward. His breathing quickened, and he looked like a stuffed pig.
"Cook, you are dismissed. 'Twould seem you have work to do," Nicholas said in a dismissive tone that angered Gemma all over again. "Phillip, I allowed you to come to offer your condolences, as it seems we are to be neighbors, but I will not have you undermining me. Gemma and I are to be wed. I will offer all of the protection she and her father could possibly need. Henry has men out searching for Gavin. 'Twould seem everything is taken care of here."
His tone was so dismissive Leda all but scampered away toward the kitchen, and Phillip was struck speechless for a moment. He finally spoke after what seemed like the longest and most awkward silence Gemma had ever endured. "Her father wanted us to marry."
"Things have changed. If he truly wished it, 'twould be done by now. Be gone, Bigod, and I will not see you near my wife again."
"She is n-n-not your wife," he said.
"She will be soon enough," Nicholas said and focused his attention on Gemma. "Go to your quarters. I will join you shortly so we can speak in private."
Gemma felt like smacking him across the face, but she was glad to see that Phillip had been reduced to a shivering weakling in his presence. At least something good had come of this. Perhaps he would leave and never return, saving her from enduring his presence ever again.
"I will be in my chamber," she whispered, "but you are not welcome." She spun and walked toward the steps once again.
"We shall see," he said as Bigod slipped from the hall and retreated toward the stables to retrieve his horse to depart. He left as he was asked, but Gemma feared he would not be gone for good no matter how many times someone scared him off.
She ran into her chambers and threw herself down on her bed. Pushing her fur coverlets aside, she buried her face in her hands. Something had to change soon, or she was going to lose her mind.
What happened next offered no relief. She heard him coming. It had to be Nicholas. He must have watched to be sure Phillip left and then came straight for her. His presence invaded her private quarters before he said a word. The room was tidy and cozy with a small fireplace. Now, he was invading her personal space. It was leaving her breathless, and she felt like a caged animal.
"I think we need to clear a few things up, milady."
She jumped up from the bed and whirled around, her green eyes locking with his. Her light brown tresses whipped around with her. Planting her hands on her hips, she stared at him defiantly. "I have nothing to say to you, you traitor. Please leave. Go away. I will think of something else to protect my sister and my father. I do not need anything from you or that arrogant Henry!"
"Careful, little one," he said with a chuckle, "that is our fair king you are talking about."
"I care not," she said. "He sent the worst possible person to help us. You tried to turn my family over to his mother once, so I guess 'tis fitting enough he would send you here."
"I did nothing of the sort." He sat on the wooden stool situated near the arched doorway. "'Twas your family who destroyed mine. Who did you tell about us, Gemma? They came and they took my parents away. They dragged them from our home like common thieves. They have, until recently, toiled for a noble family as slaves. I was sent away, far away, to become a knight, so I might pay off my family debt for daring to believe I could have a future with you. We were not good enough for your father, so he destroyed us."
"You jest!" Her eyes filled with tears as she lashed out at him. "You! You did it! My father was a loyal vassal to Stephen, and this castle was wanted by both sides. Your parents were offered wealth and position to find a way to get into this castle. They used you to get to me. All in the name of financial gain. I never meant anything to you." She picked up a leather boot sitting near her bed and hurled it at his smug face as hard as she could.
With a simple motion, Nicholas moved out of the way. His arms crossed near his chest. The boot fell harmlessly to the floor. "You speak nonsense, milady, and I am tired of this conversation already. I will hear no more of it. I simply want to know who you told. I want to know who ruined my family."
"I told no one," she said, not quite believing what he was saying. How could he be so wrong? Did he not know what his parents had been up to back then? Had he truly felt something for her?
"Quit behaving like a child. We will be wed in a matter of days. Due to the circumstances, that is all of the time I can offer you to prepare. There is no time for anything else. I will be taking over the security of this castle. I have already begun putting my men in position where I need them. You are going to have to get used to this."
"But Oliver…" she began.
"Oliver remains your father's seneschal. He seems trustworthy enough, but he will now answer to my man, Willis Gromme. And before you say anything, I do not care what you think about that. Someone within these walls is a danger. No matter how I feel about you or your family, there is someone killing innocent people, and the king wants this castle secure. Therefore, I will do what I have to do to make things right once again. I will not hear any nonsense from you about what you think is best. Those who disagree with anything I say or do are free to leave."
"I would leave if Father was well; I swear it!" she said with as much force in her voice as she could muster. "I would take Isabel and run far away. My uncle lives in Wales. He would take us in. You can have the castle; just leave me be!"
With a snicker, he stood, shifted from one foot to the other, and then walked toward her. He put one hand on her upper arm so she could not move away. "While I have to admit there was a time when I never wanted to see your face again, I have changed my position. You are full of fire and life, Gemma, and our marriage bed will be anything but boring."
She gasped as she tried to free her arm from his iron grip, but he only held her tighter. "I will never share a bed with you, you brute!"
Nicholas laughed as he took her other arm so she was forced to face him. "I once thought you were the work of Satan himself. Now, because of your bad luck, I have rich lands and a comely wife, as annoying as she is, and I strongly believe I can make a home here. You took my home once, so now I will take yours."
"You, you…" She had no words left. The urge to fight sprung up anew, but words still failed her. She twisted to get away. As a result of her efforts, he pulled her body up against his.
He put a strong arm around her waist and lifted her up so she was face to face with him, her feet far from the floor. His breath was sweet and warm against her skin. Angrily, she kicked but did no real damage.
"Little one, you are a handful. You have five days to prepare. We will marry. You will share the marriage bed, and you will give me sons."
"I hate you," she said between clenched teeth. His body was solid and unyielding. She had never been this close to a grown man other than her father. This was a different experience all together. It was exhilarating and frightening at the same time.
"So be it," he said, his eyes shining. He threw her to her bed and pinned her down. "Don't fight me. I only wish a taste."
As if in a trance, Gemma stared as his mouth came closer to hers. She wanted to bite him, but something else took over. No matter how much hatred she felt for him, there was something else. Perhaps left over feelings from long ago were coming to the surface. Her stomach felt warm and her hands were shaking, but she stayed still. He was too strong, and he would not let her go. To her chagrin, a small part of her did not want him to release her. An odd curiosity bloomed. She wanted to see what would happen next.
His lips touched hers. The kiss was light, not the attack she was expecting. As his lips parted hers, his tongue swept into her mouth so quickly she wondered if it actually happened. A strange sensation settled in her stomach and grew as he continued. Using more pressure, his warm lips lingered on hers. It was warm and inviting but had a raw power that left her unable to think clearly.
At a leisurely pace, his lips left hers and they wandered down her neck, as if he was searching for something. It was like a question without an answer. She gasped as her body responded against her will. Her breath quickened, and she felt a need for something she could not explain.
Suddenly, he was gone from her. He was standing over her looking down with an odd expression on his face. Cool air washed over her where his warmth once was. "'Twould seem this part of our relationship will not be a problem. If only I can find a way to keep you out from under my feet otherwise, this will do."
Gemma, trembling and shocked at her response to his kiss, sat up. She grabbed her other boot and threw it at him. It sailed over his head and joined the other, landing harmlessly on the floor near the wall behind him.
"And we will have to do something about that temper of yours."
She said nothing. He walked calmly out of the room, leaving her to her thoughts and to catch her breath.