The Arranged Marriage (6 page)

Chapter Four

“So what brings a Princess out here
without a chaperone?” Ison asked Rohesia, still acting under the
pretence of Sir Huntingdon. He thought it would be wise to get into
the role of being someone else for a time, fearing that if he
remained as ‘Ison’, he would kindly throttle her.

They had made themselves comfortable
in The Loyal and Ison’s men had separated to take it in turns to
rest and watch guard. Some of the men had hunted and cooked the
food in the large stone fireplace rather than disturb the kitchens,
and they had all taken a share of wine they had brought with them
on their travels.

Once Rohesia had dressed she joined
them all by the fireplace and dined with them as if she were no
Princess. Ison had not known whether to be charmed or angered with
the way she behaved.

“I have some problems at home.” She
replied in answer to his question, embarrassed by her audience. Her
eyes had been wary, and it was obvious that she had taken some
liking to this ‘Sir Huntingdon’ as he had caught her looking at him
several times. He made hints to his men before he spoke. If he was
going to pry further into her reasons for fleeing then he assumed
she would need privacy. His men noticed his signal and one by one
made their excuses to leave.

“Would you like to explain some more
my lady? You look burdened.” He didn’t know how he managed to sound
caring when all he wanted to do was to shout at her for her
audacity.

Rohesia thought for a moment and then
knew it would do no harm to disclose her intentions to this man in
front of her. He had saved her life after all and had showed her
nothing but respect since. He certainly was a gentleman.

“My father arranged a marriage for me
that I do not agree with. I have had my fill of taking orders and
now I intend to go to the Foreign Lands to make a life of my
own.”

Ison’s stomach had started to do back
flips as his anger restricted itself to his insides.

“I see,” He replied, not seeing at
all. “Maybe your father was just looking out for you?”

“He was not. He was looking out for
himself as all men do,” She shook her head and looked up at Ison.
“My father has remarried and has the potential to provide a second
heir.”

He pretended to look
confused.

“That means,” She continued. “He was
willing to follow up on the promise he made my mother on her death
bed that I could choose my own husband, for love, not duty. But as
soon as I find someone who would be of quite amiable choosing he
goes and revokes his promise.” She slapped her hands on her knees
and released a sigh. She pushed her tears back as she realised how
ridiculous she must sound right now.

“I’m sorry Sir Huntington. I must
sound like a very spoilt daughter,” She advised, announcing her
thoughts. “I pray that I am not,” She smiled. “Well maybe just a
little, but in this case I do feel I’m quite justified. The man he
has arranged for me to marry is a supposed ogre with little brains
or respect for woman. He is not a nice man and above all my father
would not disclose his reasons for doing this. That angered me all
the more.”

He was entranced as she spoke, a lot,
and felt his temper soften. She had not known the reasons why her
father had chosen him, or the fact that her father could not
produce more children. At least she was not a coward, he thought as
he realised she was not running away from her duties – only the
duty of marrying him. He decided to turn the conversation in a
safer direction.

“My lady, I mean no disrespect, but
how were you planning on making it through these woods and then
through the Moors? With no one to escort you?”

“
I have you to escort me
now.” She smiled. He could not help but smile with her. This woman
was infectious.

“Aye, but you did not know that on the
start of your journey. Do you know what could happen to you out
here?” He just about managed to catch his lecturing
tone.

“I am aware,” She advised him. “But I
knew I had The Loyal as a place to stay. Plus, I know the Mookai
would have captured me but not killed me – a woman travelling alone
– and then they would have taken me to their leader with whom I am
acquainted.”

Ison’s head snapped up at this piece
of information. It was rare that the Mookai were acquainted with
anyone outside the Moors, and if they were it was purely due to a
selfish reason on their part. The only reason he rode with amnesty
was because Fabian – the leader – had sought him out once upon a
time in desperation. His younger brother had fled the Mookai and
headed to the Foreign Lands, and they needed Ison to bring him
back. He remembered the controlled frustration of the Mookai leader
when he had sought him out. Ison had only been in Dondayas days,
however he had honoured the request for aid and sent immediate
orders to men he knew in the Foreign Lands. They had found the boy
quickly and sent him home with a guard to Ison who had returned him
back to the Moors. Instead of payment, he was granted with full
amnesty to travel through the Moors, and given a gold dagger that
was a sign of utmost respect. He still valued it with his
life.

How did Rohesia know the leader of the
Mookai? He wanted to ask, but acting under the pretence of being a
stranger to these lands he should know nothing about Fabian. It was
a question he would have to save for a later date.

“
So, this ogre you were to
marry. Is he really that bad?” He said, sounding
nonchalant.

She nodded, her eyes suddenly bright
and wide.

“From what I have heard he is known as
a Bloodhunter, or as some would say ex-bounty hunter. That means he
is used to killing, not gentleness such as a lord or prince would
be. He is rumoured to be cold and harsh and he is obviously seeking
me out in order to claim Ecripian for himself. He doesn’t appear to
be a man who will settle for just a taster of it.”

Ison tried hard not to laugh as she
described her account of him. He was aware of the rumours that
circulated about his time in the Foreign Lands. If only she knew
the truth.

“So Princess, does the man who you
chose for marriage know of this?”

All of a sudden, she realised that she
did not want to tell Sir Huntingdon about Baron Minley. It sounded
silly, acting thusly over the loss of a marriage to a man she did
not truly love; especially when the one who sat opposite from her
was having a very strange effect on her senses.

“No he does not, but it does not
matter. My father dismissed his proposal and has forbidden me from
talking to him again until I am safely wed.”

Ison made his decision there and then.
This woman was a menace to herself and obviously too unruly. No
matter what his beliefs were on marriage, this woman needed someone
to rein her in. As soon as they arrived back in Ecripian they were
going to be wed.

“
My lady, allow me to make
a bed up for you in one of the chambers.” He was already half way
up when Rohesia stopped him with her hand on his arm. Ison couldn’t
breathe. The walls felt as if they were closing in on him and the
hairs on the back of his neck stood firm. Fire was burning from his
stomach through to his groin and he could hear his own heart
beating in his ears. He shook his head to try and free himself of
this madness.

“
My lord, do not worry
about going to the effort.” Her soft tones seemed to tickle his
ears as she stood with him. “I will sleep down here with everyone
else.”

“You will not my lady.” He said,
flabbergasted at her announcement. She looked confused look at his
altered attitude.

Ison sighed. He was a warrior, a
leader, and when he wanted something done, he would order it to be
so and apply punishment if it was not obeyed. Standing here now,
knowing he would have to practical beg this woman before him to
follow a simple order was nagging him to the bone.

For most of his life, he had held
tight on to his emotions, and intended to please no one but
himself. And that’s not going to change now, he thought as he
forced himself back down to solid ground. He would keep up the
charade of Sir Huntingdon, but as soon as he managed to get his
princess back to Ecripian then this pathetic cover would end,
whether his bride-to-be liked it or not.

“
It is very cold down
here,” He continued. “And you will be a lot more comfortable in one
of the beds.”

Rohesia looked at him inquisitively as
she watched him return back to his former self. She looked into his
eyes and felt confused by what she was feeling whilst stood here
with this man. He came across very much the gentleman, but those
eyes. They stared through her, dangerous, emotionless, with the odd
flicker of amusement passing through them.

She heard her breath quicken as she
felt the grip of his hand on her own. At first she thought that she
may be ill as the fever like symptoms rushed through her, but no
nausea followed. Only pleasurable flickers bursting from her
stomach and up through into her chest. She did not want to sleep
upstairs, she realised, as it would mean that she would be too far
away from him. Why? She thought to herself, as she consciously
swallowed the lump that had appeared in her throat. There was
something about this man that made her feel like a woman, not just
a princess. She suppressed a very strong urge to kiss those lips
that appeared to be much too wide for a man. They looked like there
were about to devour her at any moment and they seemed to be asking
her to relent in him doing just that. She quickly took a step
back

“You’re right,” She said suddenly,
wanted to get as far away from this man as possible. “It would be a
good idea, but I will prepare the bed, you have done enough for me
this eve.”

Not knowing what else to do to show
her appreciation, she stepped towards him and tiptoed to place a
small gesture of a kiss on his cheek. She could have sworn her lips
were burning as the insufferable pleasure pushed through every vein
in her body. She wanted him, she knew, she just didn’t know in what
way.

Ison felt the light kiss on his cheek
and could not have stopped himself if he had wanted to. He ignored
all thought and pulled her into his arms. He needed her in a
perfect position for his own lips to rest against hers.

Oh dear, Rohesia thought as she felt
herself being pulled against this tower of a man. His kiss made it
difficult for her to function as the feel of his skin blended with
the aroma of him, sending her over the edge.

She needed to stop it, now, she
thought. What was she doing? She had fled from her home, a
potential betrothal, and a horrid husband to be, and now she was
standing here kissing a man she did not even know.

Ison didn’t stop her when he felt her
pull away from him. He had been expecting it from the moment his
tongue had eased its way into to her mouth.

He wanted her, that was definitely
apparent, but reasoning soon filtered in. She was kissing him with
the knowledge that he was not Sir Ison.

“I am sorry my lord,” Her voice
sounded breathless as she apologised to him. “I did not mean for
that to happen.”

He shifted himself in a way where his
obvious enjoyment of the kiss was not apparent and cleared his own
throat.

“It is I who should apologise my lady,
I have overstepped the line.”

“No, it is me,” She advised, trying
not to look at him as she started to pace back and forth. Her hands
clenching and unclenching to stop herself from reaching out to him
again. “I am the one who is out of line,” She chewed on her lip. “I
am a princess, running I know but at least I should still be acting
like a lady, I am sorry. I am ridiculously sorry.”

Ison was pleased she appeared to have
been moved by the kiss as much he, but he could not think with her
moving about as like this. He grabbed her gently by the arm and
pulled her to a standstill.

“My Princess, stop,” he asked her, the
vehemence of touching her again threatening to overstep the mark
for a second time. He quickly dropped her arm. “We shall forget it.
It has been a trying day. Go to bed, we will rise early in the
morning to be on our way.” He managed to struggle a smile at the
end of his sentence. That is what Sir Huntingdon would have
done.

She looked up at him and sighed. She
had never, not one moment, felt like this with Baron Minley, and
she could not believe the injustice of feeling this way towards a
man she could not have. Damn her father, she thought, damn Sir
Ison, and damn this stupid idea.

“
Good eve, my lord.” She
advised quietly. Her heart tugging at the notion that she would be
saying goodbye to this man on the morrow. Her eyes filled with
tears against her will. What was the matter with her? She thought,
as she curtsied and made haste to the chamber before he had the
slightest chance of seeing her them fall.

It was a part of Ison’s plan to rouse
everyone early enough so Rohesia would be too tired to wake during
their journey back to Ecripian. He had received word from one of
his men that the foe who had attacked Rohesia had died with no joy
from their questioning. It was obvious the man had been aware he
was near the end.