Dragon's Dower. Catherine Archer

had been forced to testify against.

      Jarrod spoke in a harsh voice. “We should have lied.”

      Christian shook his head, his blue eyes dark with misery. “He would not have had us do such a thing, even to save him.”

      Simon nodded. “Aye.”

      Their foster father had had no idea what would come when he’d told them to tell the truth. Yet Simon knew that none of them would ever rid themselves of the guilt of having given testimony that would incriminate him.

      Though Simon had loved his own father deeply neither he nor anyone else who had ever known Wallace Kelsey, known by friends and foe alike as The Dragon, could deny the impact of his character and genuine care for all who came into contact with him. That was, no one but The Dragon’s own brother, Gerard Kelsey.

      It was he who, due to his treachery, now bore the title of Earl of Kelsey. It was he who sat in the place of honor in the great hall at Dragonwick.

      At that moment Jarrod spoke up, “I have something that I wish to give each of you before we leave here.” He went to his horse and took a velvet bag from his belongings.

      He came back to the fire and removed three objects, holding them out to the light. Simon saw that they were brooches, each containing a circle and within the circle was a magnificent dragon, its wings unfurled.

      Jarrod held one out to Simon, then to Christian. “These will keep us from forgetting each other or him.”

      Simon’s voice was as husky as his friend’s as he pinned the brooch to his cape. “I will never forget.”

      “Nor I,” said Christian as he pinned his own into place.

      Swallowing hard, Jarrod did the same. Then, with no further words between them, the three mounted and headed back to the keep, which after the events of the previous day no longer felt like home. It was the day when their innocence had died, the day The Dragon’s brother had attacked the keep and killed him.

      Chapter One

      England, 1201

      “There is one way, my lord, for you to keep your head.” King John’s keenly assessing gaze held him.

      Simon Warleigh, Lord of Avington stiffened where he stood before the king. King John leaned forward, his elbows on the table before him, as Simon spoke with a tone of calm that surprised him no less than it did the king. “And that would be?”

      John Lackland was so called because his father Henry had made no great provision for him as he had his brothers. He had ruled with an iron hand since inheriting from his brother, Richard Lionheart, after his death in 1199. The king smiled thinly, reaching down to run a slender hand over the head of the sleek-coated hound that sat beside his heavily carved chair. “Take Kelsey’s daughter to wife.”

      Simon sucked in a breath of shock. He was aware of the quick glances of the two guards who stood back from the king’s chair, though neither man made any other outward sign that they were taking note of the proceedings. The guards were the small stone chamber’s only other occupants, but their presence was hardly necessary. Even if Simon was foolish enough to try to escape this private audience he could never hope to make it through the castle without being apprehended.

      But that was not the greatest of his problems at the moment. “Why would I take my accuser’s daughter to my very bosom?” As soon as he said the words Simon realized he must go carefully. Though he was not guilty of plotting against the king John clearly believed that he was. The king’s harsh dealings with his nobles had certainly caused much unrest and gave him good reason to suspect insurrection amongst his subjects. Were Simon not so occupied with his own conflict with Kelsey, he might indeed have fallen in with those who had asked him to join their efforts to rein in this king. But he had little time to afford such activities.

      The king shrugged, his shoulders narrow despite the heavy red velvet tunic he wore. “Because as I have just informed you, it is the only way to keep that head of yours attached to the shoulders the women at court seem to make so much of.”

      Simon ignored the jibe. He had no care for the foolish tongues of women who had nothing of import to occupy them.

      Simon had Avington to see to first and foremost. He had come back from the Holy Land to learn of the inheritance that had fallen to him with both a sense of responsibility and a deep sorrow. He would never have expected the death of both his father, who he learned had been dead these many months, and his elder brother only weeks prior to his return to England. Yet he’d had no time to grieve their loss, for he had immediately become embroiled in this conflict with the Earl of Kelsey. It galled him so to call the usurper by that name, the title that had graced his former foster father.

      It was near beyond comprehension that the king would now make Kelsey Simon’s father-by-marriage. He shook his dark head, trying to fathom some way out of this untenable situation. Never for a moment had he, Jarrod or Christian foreseen such a complication to their budding plans to bring Kelsey to ruin. He spoke almost absently. “It makes no sense. Why would you ask this of me? What possible gain could there be from it?”

      King John watched him for a moment, stroking his long narrow cheek. “In spite of your long absence from England you can not be ignorant of your father’s, and after him your brother’s, influence with the other nobles. Do I execute you I risk their enmity. Do I marry you to a man as loyal to me as Kelsey, the very man who alerted me to your perfidy, I prevent you from continuing to plot against me. And mark me well, Kelsey will prevent that.”

      Simon spoke carefully, knowing that this man had the power to take Avington from him if he chose to do so. “Perhaps Kelsey will not have me for his daughter.” Kelsey knew very well that it had been himself Simon was referring to as the target in the intercepted letter that had been used as evidence against him.

      “He will do as I say, even to the point of taking you into his home. His loyalty to me is unquestioned.”

      “You mean for me to abide at Dragonwick?”

      “You could not believe I would allow you to go home to Avington where you would be able to make whatever mischief you might conceive of. You will abide at Dragonwick and Kelsey will serve as guarantor of your conduct until such time as I am assured of your loyalty.”

      “By controlling my every movement.” Simon could not quite keep the bitterness from his voice, for it was even worse than he could have imagined.

      The king regarded him coldly. “Aye.”

      Resentment rolled through him at the very thought of being in the bastard’s control. “And if I refuse?”

      John smiled again. “In spite of any ire that might be garnered amongst the nobles by your death I would see it done in order to assure that you cause me no difficulty.”

      Simon took a deep breath, knowing he had to try this one last time to convince the king of the truth. “I repeat, Sire, that I have done naught against you.”

      The king raised dark brows and looked down at the letter before him. The letter that outlined much of Simon’s wish to destroy Kelsey, without actually naming the man. The letter had been on its way to Christian at Bransbury when it had been intercepted by Kelsey’s man, who had the messenger killed. Although he regretted the death of that good man, Simon knew that it had likely been the one thing to save Christian and Jarrod. If Kelsey had had an opportunity to question the messenger, he might very well have divulged his destination.

      Simon said, “I have told you, Your Majesty, that letter has been taken out of turn. The man I spoke of was not you, but Kelsey himself.”

      The king shook his head. “And as I have told you, my lord Warleigh, there would be no reason for Kelsey to lie to me in this. He says that he does know for a fact that it is me you plot against and not him because you approached him in that vein. Indeed, why would he lie if he knew that it was he who was the target of your machinations? Surely a loyal man such as he would simply