Chapter 1

England, 1067

Their arrival was inevitable. We’d held out as long as we could, but now the Normans were at our front gates. 

We neither had the manpower nor the leadership to push back their hordes. King Harold had lost. William had won. We must accept that defeat. To not do so would mean bloodshed. Something my people had seen enough of already.

“They’re outside our very gates, Carrion!” I angrily informed my fiancé, who was busy enjoying his morning tea and toast in the great hall.

The pale-faced lord waved his hand dismissively through the air. “We knew this would happen. They are testing us, my love. They can’t get through our defenses. They are impenetrable.”

My love. They can’t get through our defenses. Impenetrable. All lies! We both knew there was no love shared between us. And those men would get through our gates. History had taught us that nothing was impenetrable. It was only a matter of time before the Normans breached the perimeter and were standing inside the very walls of this keep.

“We need a plan, Carrion. We can’t ignore them forever. They won’t just go away.”

“Lord Farnsly is sending reinforcements as we speak. I sent the missive a month back. He has pledged two hundred men. We cannot lose.”

We cannot win, I thought darkly. They would starve us out or poison our wells next. But I wasn’t about to let either happen to the good people of Bailliot. 

“I understand Lord Farnsly means to assist us, but we need to discuss what happens if the man is held up.” Or, more likely, never shows.

Farnsly was a notorious coward who considered himself above king and country every time he was tested. I wasn’t about to place my faith in his incompetent hands. Not when the stakes were so high. 

“You’re far too pretty to worry about this Elsbet,” Carrion smiled, exposing a field of crooked teeth. “This is men’s business. Go about yours before you become overwrought.”

I leaned forward, fingers splayed wide upon the scarred trestle table. “My people are my business. I will neither ignore them, nor the men pounding at our doors!”

Carrion smiled ferally. “You must be used to that by now, Elsbet. Men pounding at your door to get in. Do as you always do and dismiss them. That seems to have worked for you in the past.”

Not impressed with his metaphor, I shook my head. “You are a fool! I don’t know why my father ever pledged me to you.”

A malevolent shadow fell over the lord’s pockmarked face. “The man is dead, so his motives don’t concern me. But lucky for you, his marriage contract does. I think tis time we settle this matter once and for all.”

“Meaning?” I demanded, my dark hair spilling over my shoulders in a thick mass of curls that landed just below my waist.

“Meaning,” he returned, his milky blue eyes cutting into my light brown ones, “it’s high time we wed. I wish to seal this deal that was long ago made between our two families. Tis especially important with the arrival of the barbarian Saxon troops on our land. I intend to protect you with my name, Elsbet. Otherwise, you could helplessly fall prey to any of those who try to usurp me. We wed tomorrow.”

Rearing back as though burned, my full lips thinned into a sneer of disgust. “Marry me? That ceremony is not set to take place until next summer, milord. And, as you are well aware, I’m challenging the contract. How many times must I tell you, milord, I will not marry you!”

Carrion’s mouth became equally harsh in measure. “You are a woman, Elsbet. Your opinion doesn’t matter. How many times must I tell you that?” His smug grin spread across his face like a disgusting plague. “The priest shall wed us at noon and I shall have torn your maidenhead by the proceeding hour. Tis decided and nothing you say can change my mind. I am lord here. You are not but my consort. Learn to live with that, milady.”

Bourbon-toned eyes met milky blue ones. “Do not push me, Carrion. You’re not equipped to fight a double-fronted war. That I promise you!”

Carrion arose. He stood only a handful of inches above my diminutive five-foot frame, but it was enough to make his point. “Women don’t fight, Elsbet. They submit to the strongest conqueror. Just know that I am that man.”

“We shall see about that, milord,” I stated, ominously. We shall see about that.