The Black Knave by PATRICIA POTTER Read Free Book Online

interfere with my life. Is that agreed?”
    She stared at him. He saw her hands clasp one another, and he saw her face struggle for control. “ You have a choice,” she said bitterly.
    He regarded his fingernails carefully. “You obviously do not know the Hanover. He wishes to gift me with lands and with your hand. One does not refuse a king.”
    Her eyes flickered with suspicion. “Why should I believe you?”
    He flicked his lace handkerchief again in a gesture of complete disinterest. “I care not whether you believe me or not. I can do whatever I wish with you. Surely, you are aware of that. You are considered a traitor to the crown. You have been given a reprieve because Cumberland believes this alliance might benefit King George. You have little choice in the matter.”
    “Then … why?”
    “Because I do not think we suit, madam, and I want something from you, also. I want the freedom to conduct my life as I have without questions or nagging or interference. Or copious tears. Therefore, I propose a truce beneficial to both of us.” He leered at her. “Unless, of course, you feel compelled to consummate the wedding?”
    “Will they not—”
    “Check the sheets? Most certainly. However, blood these days is rather readily available.”
    She winced, and her face flooded with color. He suspected she’d never discussed such intimate things before.
    “Madam?” he repeated the question.
    “Can I ride? Leave the grounds?”
    Amusement intermingled with admiration. She was in no position to bargain, and yet she was trying to do exactly that.
    “Mayhap after a certain … adjustment,” he said.
    Her blue eyes narrowed. He wondered for a split second whether he had said too much, given her power he couldn’t afford her to have. He had to smother it. “We will marry within the week. I have already invited other clans to the ceremony,” he said. “And you will learn to do as I say. I merely wish to… make it as tolerable as possible for both of us.”
    “Tolerable,” she said in a cold, furious voice. “Tolerable? Married to a traitor, a man who would kill his own countrymen, who …” She stopped as her eyes raked him with contempt. “Or were you even there?”
    “Oh, I was at Culloden, my lady, though it was not my wish. Battle is such a waste,” he said with a flick of his wrist.
    “My brothers didn’t think so,” she said in a low voice.
    “We may have met,” he said with indifference. He didn’t like the way she was affecting him, the sympathy welling inside him. It was too dangerous.
    The anger in her eyes turned to something akin to hate. “They died there. They were far better men than you,” she said. “As was the man I was to marry.”
    He waved the handkerchief again, as if to shoo away an insect. “Did you love him?”
    “Aye.”
    He felt the slightest twinge in his heart, then instantly berated himself. Why did he care whether she had loved before?
    He shrugged, then fixed his gaze on her clothes again. “You will need better clothes, and a fine gown for the ceremony.”
    She looked at him with something like triumph. “This is all I have, this, and a faded riding costume.”
    “I will have dressmakers call upon you. They should have a dress ready in time for the ceremony. Lord Cumberland himself has said he will attend.”
    “Am I supposed to be pleased at that? What other fine gifts do you have for me?” she asked sarcastically.
    “You have a tart tongue, my lady.”
    “You can always send me back,” she tempted.
    “Are you willing to risk the consequences?”
    She hesitated, then he saw a wily look in her eyes. “I want my brother. Will you bring him here?”
    Sympathy welled up in him. She was trying to bargain, even when her position was untenable. He wished he could accede, but he couldn’t. He forced a harshness he didn’t feel. “I’m told he is a ward of Cumberland. There is nothing I can do.”
    “You see nothing wrong with using an eleven-year-old boy as