HEY PEOPLE!! I am sorry for the delay… but I was lazy ;( don't kill me!
I am tired of typing! I wanted it to be longer, but I got tired sorry I'll post in a day or two I promise!
Enjoy ;*
It was a mortal sin, to lust over one's brother's wife. Not that they were wed as yet… but soon enough they would be, and he had no license to burn as he did. It was the crimson she wore, he told himself that set him afire. Dominique B was ablaze as she rode within the bailey atop her small palfrey. Her gown was rich crimson; her cloak, crimson; her lips, as sumptuous a shade as the ruby jewel she wore at her breast. And her hair…it burned a shimmering copper beneath the late afternoon sun, a glorious mass of ringlets that defied rule. Like some enchanted fairy creature, all of her seemed to glimmer with each stride of her horse…
Against his will, his body quickened at the sight of her. She was bold, he decided with a shudder. Perchance too bold. Why else would she ride so fearlessly into their dominion? What did she hope to gain? Whatever it was, it was other than she claimed, he was certain. She was dangerous, he sensed. Still he craved her…craved as never before…and for an instant…for the first time in his life…he coveted his brother's place-though only for an instant, and then he cast the unforgivable sin away, to that black hollow deep within his soul.
Hardening his heart against her, Blake D cast a glance at his brother, scrutinizing Graham's reaction to the woman who had elicited such a profound response in himself. Graham stood impassive, seemingly unaffected by the creature riding so proudly on their midst, looking every bit a pagan sacrifice of old.
Did she feel herself a sacrifice?
He wondered, wishing he knew precisely what was in his brother's mind. Graham's face revealed, if aught, a slight uneasiness, thought little else. For his part, Blake only wished he were so undisturbed, and he couldn't keep himself from wondering how else he might respond was he the one receiving this barter bride today.
Impatient? Doubtful? Mistrusting? Not indifferent, he was certain. Never indifferent-and he couldn't help but consider, too, that he had been given his rightful place as heir…she would have, in truth, been hi. Aye, he knew. He's known for long, for confidences were rarely private with so many ears about. Yet it mattered not, for he was firstborn merely by a matter of moments, and if aught wounded him more, it was the simple fact that his father had all but disowned him. The truth was that he'd sworn to serve his brother, and serve him he would until his last walking breath.
If he felt aught of anger, it was fir the simple fact that their father had done Graham an injustice, consigning him as leader, for either his brother knew naught of warfare, despite his years of battle training, or he held himself a death wish. This of the two, Blake knew not. Only one thing was certain: Graham needed him. God's truth, but his younger twin brother would never have survived without him, and Blake had long made it his life's purpose to protect Graham at any cost.
Straightening to his full height, he turned to find her riding toward them still, her shoulder's back, her posture erect; her eyes-she was near enough now that he could spy their color-deepest blue. And brilliant…as though with unshed tears. Reluctant, was the thought that first came to mind. His gaze shifted to the man riding beside his own steed, his dress as lavish as her own, and then back. Aye, he decided, it was reluctantly she'd come to do her brother's bidding. Nevertheless…she'd come, and with that knowledge came a surge of resentment. For in truth, he did not trust her. Most assuredly, he did not trust her treacherous brother.
Like his father before him, William B was to be suspected-despite that he offered peace between them. Most especially not when he offered his exquisite young sister in the bargain…Graham was unwise to think it would end simply. These two were involved in some intrigue, and whatever they were after, he would discover it, by God.
That, he vowed as vehemently as he did that he would not-he refused to-covet his brother's bride.
This, the, was to be her prison?
A quiver raced down Dominique's spine at the sight of the stronghold that loomed before her. It appeared so. Upon their approach, Drakewich had appeared animated with preparations for their arrival-a flurry of movement upon the castle walls-yet now that they were within the bailey, it seemed more forbidding a place than London had surely been to the Empress Matlida-and she had been driven from the city by an angry crowd! Not a soul stirred, neither to greet them nor to spurn them, yet for the latter, at least, she was grateful. Even the donjon itself seemed a formidable thing, with its dark, high tower windows. From such a great height, a body could spy from the shadows and never be seen. It was no wonder William had sought this alliance, never in her life had seen the likes of Drakewich, so vast and so impenetrable did the stone fortress appear from within. Had she truly thought it modest from without? Had she dared deem Arndel its equal? Leaning discreetly toward her brother, she murmured beneath her breath, "They seem so…so inhospitable…" "Do they?" William answered noncommittally.
She looked at him incredulously. Sweet Mary, but how could he not have noted the overly cool reception?
Frowning, William berated her. "You fret overmuch, Dominique," he said. "Nay, William," she denied at once, "it's but that…" She cast him a despairing glance. "What if they will not accept me?" He considered her at last, though the look upon his handsome face was that amusement rather than concern. "Come now, Dominique, you cannot have expected they would receive you with open arms?" "Nay, but-"
"Hush. I promise it will change with time," he heartened, terminating her protest once and for all. He gave her a conspiratorial wink. "Cease your brooding, sister mine."
Dominique nodded dejectedly, catching her lip between her teeth, recognizing his tone. Lest she incur his anger, she left off at one. Alas, but she could only hope he was right. She sighed, and her gaze strayed toward the area before the donjon, caught by the figure of a man, his stance proud, his countenance dark. She swallowed convulsively. Blessed Mary, but she knew him at once-the Black Dragon. He was unmistakable dressed in Danish black. God's truth, but she'd tried not to imagine him when considering this union, tried not to think of him at all, but seeing him now, she could well believe every tale she'd ever heard recounted of his battle fury. And more.
Though he appeared to be weaponless, he wore hauberk and chausses, and to her mind no one had ever appeared more prepared for battle. She tried not to gape, but standing there, scrutinizing their approach, he reminded her of the barbarian Viking invaders of legend, his stance threatening even in his unaffected stillness
Fraught with anxiety, she cast a glance at her brother and found him watching prudently. Though William smiled in encouragement, panic burst through her at once. There would be no deliverance this day, she knew. He coveted this too much. With all her heart, she wanted to reel her mount about and flee before they chanced to lower the portcullis, entrapping her for always, yet merely returned William's smile, reminding herself that she did this for him. Still, he hear raced so that it ached. For him and for peace, she told herself, trying desperately to calm the ruthless beating within her breast. God's truth, but she thought she would dies here where she sat!
Nay, but how long had it been since last William has smiled so? She chided herself. The truth was that he rarely smiled at all, and now…now that he a found a cause to do so-well, she could not fail him. She observed him an instant longer and knew without question that it was the right thing to do. She would not fail him. Resolutely she turned towards her future, advising herself that she wanted this, too. It had been far too long after all-too many battles fought, too much death, and too much enmity. She, too, needed it all to end at long last-for William's sake, for the sake of his soul, as well as her own. And if William was willing to call a truce, so, too, was she. Too long had this vendetta consumed her brother.
Still she shuddered… for how could ever be peace in the Dragon's very den? That thought plagued her. "Smile, Dominique," William commanded her. Through clenched teeth, startling out of her musing. She turned abruptly to find him leaning toward her discreetly. "Smile," he bade her once more. "You look as though you ride to your death." Mayhap it was because she felt so. Still, she made a better effort for William's sake. "I…I was searching for my lord, Graham," she improvised, trying to sound eager. "Perchance do you spy him yet?"
William gave her a sidewise glance. His blue eyes, so like her own, scrutinized her an instant, and then his bros knit as he indicated, with a very discreet nod, the very place Dominique had been staring so long. "There," he stated, lifting his chin slightly and glancing in the vicinity in which the infamous Black Dragon so ominously. "Standing aside his black hearted brother."
