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“It is the principle of the thing,” Matthew said loftily and Gareth laughed out loud.

Imogen’s smile was tight and preoccupied, her mind working at a furious rate as she tried to decide how to proceed. “Attack and surprise,” she said quietly, and for a moment it almost seemed as if she was once more in front of the Keep’s hearth, listening to Robert explain to her the intricacies of chess.

Gareth only just caught the softly spoken words, but he understood what she meant. He slipped his arm through hers and began to guide her up the main steps. Matthew followed behind more slowly, glaring at the gathering crowd in what he knew was a satisfyingly threatening manner.

Imogen flinched as the main doors closed behind them, but she continued to walk beside Gareth with the appearance of calm confidence. She knew only too well that if they were to succeed, they had to move so fast that no one noticed that they were, to all intents and purposes, laying siege to the king and his fortress.

Any hesitation on her part and it would mean doom for them all.

Their luck held, with the guards too stunned to challenge them. They were all shocked at finally seeing for themselves the infamous Lady Deformed. Word of their arrival had spread quickly, and the halls were already filling with people eager to catch a glimpse.

Gareth cast a concerned glance down at the small form walking close to his side. The serenity of her face didn’t fool him for a moment, not when he could feel the death grip she had on his arm. He would have done everything in his power to shield her from these cruel, prying eyes, but there was nothing he could do.

It didn’t help his temper any that he knew the curiosity of the crowd was being fed by their need to see Imogen’s infamous deformities for themselves.

Even unseen, Lady Deformed—the misbegotten sibling of Roger the Angel Courtier—had titillated the court’s jaded curiosity, but this was just too good an opportunity to be passed up. That there was no damage to be seen on the proud figure that walked with such graceful dignity excited them even more.

Excited, titillated and aroused, Gareth thought grimly.

He felt his brows draw tightly together as he noticed the lust that flared to life on more than one man’s face. Their amazement was quickly turning from something a little less innocent, and into something a little more carnal. He tried to glare them all down, but for every man who lowered his eyes at the ferocity of Gareth’s raw anger, there were another ten that became more intrigued by the fragile beauty who managed to inspire such fierce loyalty.

Loyalty at court was even rarer than innocence.

His irritation communicated itself to Imogen in the sudden tautness of his body. She gently squeezed his arm, trying to reassure him. “Don’t let it worry you, Gareth; their rude curiosity doesn’t hurt me. It is no less than I had expected.”

Gareth gritted his teeth, but if she could stand it, then so must he. Tolerance didn’t mean acceptance, however. Payments would be extracted later and he silently began committing each leering face to memory.

He was so busy at it that they almost ran into the guard who suddenly stepped out from the crowd and halted their progress.

“The king demands the attendance of Lady Imogen Beaumont in his chambers immediately,” the man said formally, but he also gaped openly at Imogen, not at all deterred by her glaring companions.

“Excellent,” Imogen said loudly for all to hear, “lead on.”

“Ah, my lady, I’m sorry but the king has requested only your presence. I’m afraid your retainers will have to wait for you elsewhere.” He gave Matthew and Gareth a pointed look, expecting the men to immediately obey the royal edict, but neither made any move to abandon their lady.

Imogen’s arm tightened around Gareth’s.

“I’d hate to appear to be disobedient to my sovereign, but I’m afraid that one of my people will have to come with me. I am unable to see and I need their help. Surely the king does not expect me to abandon my eyes?”

Imogen’s voice was soft, but everyone in the room heard her simple pronouncement and it created a minor uproar.

For a moment, the guard’s eyes clouded with confusion, but he recovered quickly. He stepped toward her and bowed gallantly. “It would be an honor, my lady, to act as both your escort and your eyes if you would allow it.”

She hesitated for a second but knew that there was no other way. A royal command was a royal command. She didn’t dare disobey.

She slowly removed her arm from Gareth’s.

“Wait for me,” she murmured.

“Forever, if need be,” Gareth said fiercely as he bowed respectfully over her hand.

Matthew moved quickly to do the same, his creaking joints protesting their ill use loudly. It was all the reassurance she could take with her.

She felt the stranger link his arms through hers, and found herself walking stiffly beside him as she left behind her last link with the familiar.

The guard walked slowly, careful to guide her around every obstacle, but it seemed to Imogen that in no time at all they were outside the king’s chambers, waiting to be formally announced. She listened intently to the faint sound of her name being spoken, and the curt, rumbling reply it got. An absolute terror settled over her as she gracefully walked into the chamber on the guard’s arm.

All was silent in the room except for the rhythmic, agitated tapping of a fingernail on wood.

Imogen loosened the guard’s arm, and dropped into a faultless curtsy. “Sire,” she murmured, her early training returning to her in an instant.

She remained in a low curtsy and while she couldn’t hear anything over the loud beating of her heart, she managed not to flinch when she felt a meaty finger smooth along her jawline and lift her face to the light.

King William’s eyes narrowed dangerously as he looked into

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