Betrothed to the Barbarian. Carol Townend

take the child,’ she said, placing her daughter in Sophia’s arms. Secure in the knowledge that her veil was wrapped tightly about her and that only her eyes were showing, she turned back to the man in the doorway. ‘My lord? You are addressing me?’

      The dark eyes sharpened, her tone had been too peremptory. A lady-in-waiting, as she was purporting to be, would never address a nobleman in such a tone. Certainly not before she found out who he was.

      ‘Yes, you.’ Shouldering the startled Varangian to one side, he occupied the doorway. ‘Where is your mistress?’ His tone moderated. ‘I have been trying to arrange an audience with the Princess for some days, but I have been told she is ailing. I trust she is not seriously ill?’

      Theodora gave him a diplomatic smile. Cool, formal, and slightly distant. She would not let him annoy her. ‘Princess Theodora is, as I am sure you have already been told, not receiving guests today. I will, however, ensure your message reaches her. May I know to whom I am speaking?’

      He bowed, and as he did so Theodora couldn’t help but notice how his mouth had eased as she answered him. His lips twitched. As though he were laughing at her! ‘I am Duke Nikolaos of Larissa and I am entirely at your disposal, my lady. And you are …?’

      It was Duke Nikolaos. Inclining her head to hide the rush of emotion—this was the man her uncle had decreed she must marry—Theodora affected not to have heard his question. ‘Please come back tomorrow, my lord.’

      He looked her up and down. Theodora was confident her veil was still in place, so why had she to resist the urge to adjust it? Thankfully, he wouldn’t see much of her. Just her eyes. With luck, he would assume he was speaking to one of the more modest of Theodora’s ladies. She stared at the toes of her slippers as though her life depended on it. She could not let him study her, lest when he met her as Princess Theodora, he realised that she was the same woman who had told him the Princess was not yet well enough to meet him.

      This man is a commander, a general of the Imperial Army. I must say as little as possible. Duke Nikolaos had an air of ruthlessness about him, a man such as this would not hesitate to dispense with Palace protocols if it suited him. That he had come to the apartment in person proved it. This man is dangerous.

      Theodora effaced herself, backing away, her gaze fixed on the marble floor tiles. For the first time in her life she was grateful for the rigid rules and conventions set up to protect unmarried women. Even as she prayed they would keep him at arm’s length, an odd thrill of uncertainty shivered through her. Protocols mean nothing to this man, he is a rule-breaker.

      She retreated with Sophia into a room that opened out from the reception chamber and overheard him exchanging remarks with the guard. When she looked back, the great double doors were closed, Duke Nikolaos had gone.

      Martina began to whimper. ‘It is time she was fed,’ Theodora said.

      ‘I will take her to Jelena,’ Sophia said. ‘One moment.’

      Theodora found herself standing alone in the large bedchamber. It was so lavishly appointed that her jaw had dropped when she had first arrived at the apartment and seen it. A huge bed filled much of the space, liberally festooned with mulberry hangings. There was yard after yard of gold braid and fringing; there were silk mulberry sheets, gold and mulberry-coloured cushions. Marble-topped tables were set against the walls; there were golden basins and ewers; there, on the floor, was one of the travelling chests she had given to Katerina to help her play her part as Princess.

      This is my bedchamber, or it will be when I am Princess Theodora Doukaina once more. Her heart missed its beat. If I marry Duke Nikolaos, that bed is where we will consummate our marriage.

      The great bed was a world away from her bed at the Rascian Court. In Rascia, Theodora had had her own chamber, as befitted a Princess of the Empire, but her bed there had been very different to this one. The bed in which she and Peter had loved each other had been furnished with plain linens, not silks and damasks and …

      The air shifted behind her, Sophia had returned.

      ‘Martina is feeding well, my lady, she … Good Heavens,’ Sophia said faintly, looking at the bed.

      ‘Quite.’

      ‘What are you going to do?’

      Theodora glanced at the door and lowered her voice. ‘First, I shall reclaim my identity. I shall make that Varangian tell us where Katerina and Anna have gone. And then I shall once again be Princess Theodora Doukaina.’

      ‘Will you marry him?’

      Theodora stared at the mulberry-draped bed in the centre of the chamber and bit her lip. Marry that handsome, ruthless-looking stranger? ‘Only if I have to.’

       Chapter Three

      Sophia moved so she had clear sight of the apartment entrance, anxiety clouding her expression. ‘Oh, dear, Duke Nikolaos did seem rather … rather …’

      Overpowering?’

      Sophia nodded. ‘Perhaps you should seek an audience with the Emperor, my lady, he may look kindly on a request to set the arrangement aside.’

      ‘I wish I had your confidence. Emperor Alexios is a soldier, he is more likely to expect blind obedience. Oh, Lord, of all the times for there to have been a coup, this is surely the worst! The last thing I need is a strong emperor.’ Theodora jerked her head in the direction of the Varangian posted at the entrance. ‘And I had forgotten the extent to which women here are cloistered. Life here is going to be somewhat different from life in Rascia. Just look at that man. Is he there for our benefit, or is he spying on us?’

      ‘Married women have more freedom than unmarried ones, Princess.’

      Theodora shot her lady-in-waiting a sharp look. ‘You think I should marry the Duke.’

      Sophia lifted her shoulders. ‘It is hard to tell on a first meeting, but Duke Nikolaos did not strike me as a … conventional man. Such a man would not care for the opinions of others …’

      ‘You are saying he would let me go my own way?’

      ‘I do not know. Perhaps.’ Another shrug. ‘However, if you do marry him, he will soon discover you are not … not as innocent as he believes.’

      Theodora sighed. ‘Were I to marry him, I would simply have to pretend.’

      ‘You would act the virgin?’

      ‘I shall be as pure as the driven snow.’

      ‘He would know,’ Sophia said, firmly. ‘A man like that would surely know.’

      ‘I disagree. He’s a general, a warrior … he didn’t strike me as being particularly … subtle. Surely I can convince him I am innocent?’

      ‘If you say so, my lady.’

      Giving Sophia a curt nod—her doubts were irritating—Theodora strode back into the reception chamber. ‘Guard!’

      The Varangian looked warily at her. ‘My lady?’

      ‘I have questions and this time you will give me the truth. When we arrived, you told us that the Princess was visiting friends—is that not so?’ The guard flushed dark red and opened his mouth, but Theodora swept on. ‘You also told Duke Nikolaos the Princess was sick. Why? Where is she?’ When the guard would not meet her gaze, but stared woodenly at the wall behind her, she went to stand directly in front of him. ‘Look me in the eye, when I am speaking to you. The Princess is not sick, nor is she out visiting friends. Where is she?’

      The guard’s throat worked.

      It struck Theodora that the Varangian was young to be in such a position of such responsibility, she softened her voice. ‘Do not be afraid. It is my belief you are acting on orders. It is also my belief that you know the whereabouts of the Princess.’ Her foot tapped. ‘You will tell me. This instant.’