Once a Bride by Shari Anton Read Free Book Online Page A

accept his authority. Simon hadn’t argued about giving up his usual seat at table to Roland, had merely slid down a place to accommodate the arrangement. Marcus also accepted Roland’s authority as unavoidable, not worth the effort of a protest.
    Her whole being rebelled at the thought of having anyone but her father, or she in her father’s absence, holding sway over her home. ’Twas insulting, galling—and unavoidable. But damn, she didn’t have to like it or even pretend she did.
    At least not to Roland St. Marten.
    Kenworth was another matter altogether.
    She wanted the earl gone, but not too soon. Wherever her father was going, she wanted him to reach a safe haven without worrying about pursuit and capture. Surely there must be a way to keep the earl and his knights at Lelleford for a day or two to give her father more time.
    Kenworth dearly loved his wine. Was it possible to keep a man intoxicated for several days? Drunk, he wouldn’t be able to think clearly, much less sit a horse and chase after her father.
    Unfortunately, she doubted Kenworth would fall for the ploy. She’d only get herself into further trouble.
    The earl reached for his goblet. When he frowned into the empty vessel, Eloise immediately signaled for a page.
    “Bring another flagon of wine for his lordship,” she told the boy, who scurried to obey.
    Kenworth slammed the goblet onto the table, causing her to flinch and bump shoulders with Roland.
    Hard and rock-steady, he didn’t move. She straightened almost immediately, but not before his warmth seeped into her and his solid presence reassured her. She held on to both under the earl’s disapproving scowl.
    “Your servants are lax, Lady Eloise. That lad is not suited to serve the high table.”
    Eloise immediately took offense. The lad had earned the right to serve the high table, had done nothing wrong this eve—except not realize the earl attempted to empty an entire keg of wine all by himself. However, ’twould do no good to inform Kenworth of his error.
    “The fault is mine, my lord. I should have ensured the more experienced servants served you, not a lad who might be overawed by the honor of attending an earl. ’Tis not often we entertain such a grand personage in our humble hall.”
    The honeyed words tasted foul in her mouth, but seemed to placate Kenworth somewhat. He leaned back in the chair, his scowl easing into contemplation. Of her. She wished she could read the thoughts in those narrowed eyes.
    “No grand personages of late?” he asked.
    “Nay, my lord.”
    “No lairds?”
    Eloise twisted her hands in her lap.
    “No Scottish laird has ever visited Lelleford.”
    “You will pardon me if I do not believe you. Your lie only puts you in collusion with your treacherous father. Not a surprise, I suppose. Indeed, I suspect an entire flock of traitors reside within these walls.”
    God’s wounds, but she was tired of this odious earl and his horrid accusations.
    “Then you would be mistaken, my lord.”
    “I think not, but we shall see.”
    Eloise quietly seethed as the page returned with the wine. She stretched out her hand, grabbed the flagon, and waved the boy off. Wishing she had the courage to poison the bastard, she filled the earl’s goblet.
    “I believe you are mistaken about my father as well.”
    “As for Sir John, I harbor no doubts of his guilt and should have further proof shortly.” He glanced about the hall. “I would likely have the proof in hand by now if that infernal cleric had not disappeared.”
    Eloise put down the flagon. While irked that Brother Walter seemed to have disappeared, she was relieved he couldn’t be called upon to assist in the search through her father’s documents.
    “The last I saw Brother Walter, shortly before your arrival, he was in the chapel. Where he went after, I know not.”
    “St. Marten, come dawn, I expect you to flush out the elusive monk.”
    Roland leaned forward to look around her. “As you wish, my lord.