Hooked. Betina Krahn

      But that was precisely what she must do.

      Never could she let anyone see how devastated this turn of events had left her. Especially not the man who, for a brief moment yesterday, had made her think about what it would be like to be young and free, to be looked on with favor by a handsome young man.

      From his place beside the priest, Simon watched Isabelle’s impassive and beautiful face.

      So this woman, the one he had met along the road the previous day, was Isabelle, daughter to the Earl of Kelsey. He would never have guessed that she was the one he had been ordered to wed, and had he done so not even a beauty as great as hers could have moved him.

      His gaze raked her face. His faint recollections of the child he had seen a few times so many years ago would never have prepared him for the woman she had become.

      He had much clearer memories of her younger cousin, the scarlet-haired Rosalind, who had died the day Gerard Kelsey attacked the keep. The very thought angered him anew.

      Simon’s lips thinned as he focused on the woman before him again. There was no hint of reaction to her father’s declaration that she was to be married in those astonishing lilac eyes, nor was there any rise of color in the porcelain cheeks. Those perfectly formed pink lips did not thin, nor did they purse. Her slender white hands with their long delicate fingers rested lightly on the skirt of her lavish gown. Her dark head was held at a proud but relaxed angle, further betraying her lack of concern.

      How could she possibly listen to the exchange that had just taken place without reacting in some way? Yet she had.

      He now realized that she was beautiful indeed, but it was more in the way of a marble statue he had seen in Rome. Unbearably lovely but lacking the animation that would fully impassion a man.

      She started toward them, her slender hips drawing his gaze as she moved forward with sensuous grace. In spite of his revelations his body reacted to her grace and beauty with a will of its own. Meanwhile his mind continued to view her lack of emotion with displeasure. He told himself ’twas unnatural for a young woman to be so cold. Even the most obedient of daughters might have hoped to hear of her marriage before the moment was upon her.

      Alas, he reminded himself, he could not expect more from the earl’s daughter. Simon was infinitely conscious of the pale perfection of her face as she came to a halt beside him. And, heaven help him, her slender but enticing form. The gold belt about her slim hips drew his wayward gaze but when he forced it upward he was equally captivated by her long, narrow waist and high, proud breasts made all the more enticing by the deep blue of her gown, which clung lovingly to each curve.

      Determinedly he pulled his gaze to his own hard fingers, which had curled into a fist at his side. He forced himself to recall his plan to remain apart from his wife. It was his only hope of being free of her and thus her father.

      Unfortunately he had not at the time of making that decision realized that the very woman who had so occupied his thoughts since he left her at the side of the road yesterday was the one he must deny himself.

      King John interrupted his tormented thoughts. “Shall we have it done, then? I do have other matters to attend.”

      Kelsey spoke before Simon could. “Of course, my lord. It would greatly trouble my sleep to think that I had brought you any undue inconvenience.”

      Simon felt his lips twist in derision. The man was a toad. As he had always been.

      He must keep this in mind. Raised by one such as the earl the girl could not be but less than honorable of character. The longing he had thought he had seen in her eyes yesterday was nothing more than the wishful thinking of a man who had found himself in the company of a very lovely woman. A man who had just been told he must marry in order to save his head. He could not afford himself the luxury of allowing one such as she to become the lady of Avington.

      No matter how beautiful she might be.

      An indeterminable time later Simon left the chamber where the marriage had taken place, pausing in the hall outside as he realized that he had nowhere to go. There was no sign of his bride, who had exited just moments before him with no more hint of emotion than she had displayed on entering, hardly a word having been exchanged between them, nothing save their replies to the priest’s intonations.

      Simon heaved a silent sigh, aware of the angry and watchful eyes of the man who stood as if guarding the door. He had been the same man to bring Isabelle to the chamber, which told Simon that he was Kelsey’s man even if his resentful blue gaze had not. He must guard himself even now with Kelsey still inside with the king, who had informed him that he was to await them in the hall. As parting words King John had again made it very clear that Simon would be accompanying his wife and her father to Dragonwick this very day. And that he would be remaining there indefinitely.

      Dragonwick.

      The very thought brought back so many memories. It had been his home for two years as squire to The Dragon. He had spent many a happy day there riding, sword playing, exploring the lands with Jarrod and Christian. Not that Wallace Kelsey had been an easy mentor. He had expected much from those under him, including Simon and Jarrod and Christian.

      It had been a good life until The Dragon was accused of supporting those who plotted against King Henry. Through it all, The Dragon had declared his innocence and support of the king. He had been accused of meeting in secret with two of Henry’s son, Richard’s, most loyal allies. It had been to this that Simon, Jarrod and Christian had been forced to testify.

      It had not gone well and The Dragon had decided he would not give up his lands without resistance. He was determined to stand by his principles. Never had Simon or his friends imagined what would happen next. Somehow they had believed that their foster father would triumph. No one had suspected that his brother Gerard would convince the king to provide him a force to lead against him.

      They had not realized how very desperate King Henry was to rid himself of Wallace Kelsey when it appeared he had allied himself against the crown. Simon had not participated in the fighting the day The Dragon’s brother attacked the keep. Under protest he, Jarrod and Christian had been locked away in a shed to keep them out of the battle.

      They had only been released in time to see the bodies of The Dragon and his three-year-old daughter, Rosalind, who had been brought down to lie beside her father in the bailey. Gerard Kelsey had loudly declared his regret that his niece was dead, claimed that she had inadvertently fallen from the top of the inner stairs trying to get to her father, who had been fighting in the hall.

      Simon had been sickened by the blackguard’s false regret and the sight of that tiny crumpled body, glad the nurse had wrapped the child in linens to cover her broken form from the eyes of her enemies. These many years later he remembered the sweetness of the carrot-haired child who had followed them about the castle grounds and he felt his chest tighten. He’d wished that he could give vent to the tears that threatened even now.

      Aye, Dragonwick would be filled with memories and not all of them good ones.

      Surely, he would eventually find a way to extricate himself from this odious situation. King John had much to occupy him with his nobles’ anger and resentment against the crown, not to mention his own recent divorce and remarriage. John could not afford to divert his attention to a favorite such as Kelsey for very long.

      From behind Simon came Kelsey’s voice. “We will be leaving court within the hour.”

      Simon stiffened, as he faced him. “I must only retrieve my belongings from the inn where I have been staying.”

      Kelsey scowled. “Do not attempt to escape, my lord. I take the charge to keep you under my eyes most seriously.”

      Simon shrugged, casting a glance over to the dark knight with the resentful blue eyes, who had moved to stand at the earl’s right. “Send a guard, if you will. It will only delay me. I have no wish to try to escape you. I hold my own lands too dear to risk them over such foolishness.”

      The older man’s expression remained disapproving,