Redemption, M J Marlow [best way to read ebooks TXT] 📗
- Author: M J Marlow
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time,” he smiled up at her nastily, “you and I could become better acquainted.” Marit bit her lip to keep from screaming as his hand moved under her skirts and his fingers stroked her leg. “Were you not destined to be bride to my lord, I would quite happily enjoy you in my bed.”
Marit shook her head, refusing to believe that she was being taken to some man other than Justin. Who was this ‘lord’ that Barnabas kept referring to? And why did he want her as his bride? She remembered then what Tavin had told her and froze in shock. Atherton was a minion of her father’s enemy, the Emperor Alexander, the very man whose armies were making incursions into the borderlands. She could not let herself be taken to that man. He would use her to destroy everything her father and his allies had built here.
“You are still such an innocent, my lady,” Barnabas laughed as the horse was pulled forward. “I thought Horis had cured you of that. I remember giving him orders to that effect when I bought you for my lord.” He shrugged and missed the horrified look on Marit’s face. “No matter. He will enjoy taking your innocence himself.”
They came over the crest of the rise and Marit’s eyes widened. In the center of an immense lake, a fortress rose up carved from the mountain stone. Thick walls surrounded an immense central tower. She could see smaller towers on the corners of the fortress, and what looked like dozens of men walking the parapets.
“Enjoying the view, princess?” Barnabas smiled as he looked up to see her astonished expression. “It is not nearly as impressive as your father’s fortress, but it will keep you secure.” He mounted behind her and ran his hand along her cheek, feeling her shudder. His hand continued down her arm as his eyes remained fixed on hers. “With your father allied to my lord, there will be no stopping my armies.” His eyes went quite cold. “King Marius will wish some token to prove we have you.” He removed the brooch from her cloak and held it out to his lieutenant. “You will take this to the noble king with our lord’s demands for alliance.” Marit hissed as he stroked her arm. He felt her shudder and knew a strange sense of triumph. “You are right to fear me, Princess. I hold your life or your death in my hands.”
“Then let it be death,” Marit snapped at him. “I am not going to let you use me to destroy all my father has built here.”
“You really think you have a choice?”
He clamped his hand on her throat and Marit clawed at him, trying to make him stop. When he finally released her at the steps of the keep, she was shaking in weakness. She glared up at him coldly. He yanked on her hair and saw the blaze of anger in her eyes.
“Such looks, fair lady,” Barnabas laughed as he saw her fall to her knees. “Not at all the genteel maiden. You would scratch my eyes out if you could.”
He took her inside the great hall and froze as he saw a tall, chestnut-haired man seated on his throne. Barnabas was on his knee, bowing his head as Marit stood next to him, looking at the man in confusion. She had never seen a more perfect man in her life. There was not one flaw in his face or form. And the look on his face, as he looked at Barnabas made her feel hopeful.
“You were told to bring the princess to us undamaged, lord Atherton,” the Emperor Alexander said coldly as he looked at Marit. “Remove the shackles at once and leave us.”
“Yes, Excellency.”
“Did he harm you, Princess?” Alexander asked once they were alone. He saw her look and laughed. “I understand that you are angry at the way my invitation was issued…”
“Invitation?” Marit laughed. “Is that what you call being forcibly abducted?” She narrowed her eyes. “Who are you?”
“Where are my manners?” Alexander frowned. “I am the Emperor Alexander. And I,” he continued, his warm brown eyes shining with amusement, “am here to claim you as wife.”
“What?” Marit took a step back, shaking her head. “All noble men are insane, my lord?” He looked at her in confusion. “I am not in the market for a third husband.”
“I was under the impression that you were unwed, my lady,” Alexander frowned back at her.
“I have been promised to Justin of Northfell,” Marit told him. “My cousin, Tavin of Stormkeep, has declared his wish to make me his wife. And now you,” she snapped, “heir to my father’s enemy, send men to abduct me so you can make a claim?” She shook her head. “I won’t have this! I would rather be locked in a convent…”
“Unfortunately for you, my pretty princess,” Alexander broke in, laughing at her childish display, “a convent will never be your destination.” He saw her look. “You are the daughter of the king of the borderlands, ruler over his and seventeen other lands, protector of the outlands to the south. There is only marriage in your future.”
“I could die,” Marit told him. “Then my father would leave all to my cousin, Rafel.” She saw the knife on the belt of the guard next to her and she pulled it out before he could stop her. “It would solve all of this quite neatly.”
“It would only cause civil war, Princess,” Alexander replied as he met her frantic eyes. He rose and she backed into the guard who, very gently, removed the dagger from her hand and put it back on his belt. Alexander took Marit’s hand and lifted it to his lips, feeling her shiver. “Your cousin, Rafel, is not old enough or experienced enough to command the respect of the lords under your father’s hold.”
He led her to the kitchen, where he made her sit, and went to pour himself some wine. She stayed as far away from him as she could get, keeping her eyes on him warily. He had been right in his choice of her as a bride; this princess would not go down easily. It was only right; considering who her parents were. He would have expected no less from the daughter of the Borderlands king and a daughter of the royal house of Stormkeep.
“Northfell and Stormkeep are on the way here to act as witnesses to our union.” He looked at her over the rim of his goblet. “Neither of them is worthy of you, lady. I am the much better choice.”
“But you are not my choice,” Marit cried in protest. She saw his expression and frowned. “I suppose you will now tell me that a woman of my rank has no choice?”
“Of course you do, Princess,” Alexander replied, enjoying her dancing emotions in those glorious emerald eyes of hers. “You marry me or you watch everyone you care for die.”
Alexander waited for her to say something to his threat. When she did not, he shrugged. Her eyes were so expressive there was really no need for her to speak. Anyone with a brain could tell that she was angry, and willing to do harm if she got even half a chance. He was still stunned that the girl had proven to be as fierce as she was. He had expected her to be easily cowed, given her upbringing. Obviously her heritage had kept her from falling into the despair Atherton had hoped to engender in her.
“You are a strange child. Obviously your time away from court has given you a far different view of things than I expected.” He shrugged and rose to his feet. “It doesn’t matter. You will soon be seeing things my way.” He walked towards her and she was watching him warily. He laughed as he took her by the elbow and led her upstairs to a chamber. The guards opened the door and Alexander set her inside the room. “Shall we make a wager, dear lady, on how long it will be before you break?”
Marit heard his laughter long after the door was bolted fast. She went to the bed and sank down on it, fighting the tears that were pricking at her eyes. She wiped them away angrily, determined to fight her captor as long as possible. She finally dozed off and when she woke the next morning, it was to find that she had been stripped of her clothing and put into a plain emerald green wool gown. Her hair was loosed about her and her feet were bare. Something hard and cold was around her throat and wrists.
“Do you not like your wedding gift, my lady,” Alexander said as he came in and saw her at the mirror, looking at the ornately engraved collar around her throat. It matched the bracers on her wrists, and the girdle at her hips. “They were prepared especially for you, my bride.” She shuddered as he came up behind her and put his arms on hers, holding her in front of him. Alexander pushed the gown off her shoulders. He ran his lips along her shoulders and smiled. “One day quite soon,” he said as he met her eyes in the mirror, “you will shiver for a far different reason when I touch you.”
He moved away from her and went to pour wine into two goblets. He took a sip and watched as she removed the restraints. He hoped he would never have to show her how they worked, he thought to himself as she set the bracers down; quickly followed by the girdle and the collar. Her expression dared him to make an issue of her removing them. He merely shrugged and she looked at him in confusion. Let her think they were merely trinkets for now.
“Come talk with me, princess,” Alexander said, his words no mere request. Marit sat down across from him, her attitude telling him he would hurt if he tried anything. He held the goblet out to her and she took it, warily. “I would hear your beautiful voice.” She took a sip of the wine instead and he found her obstinancy quite annoying. “I shall have to see to it that you receive some education in courtly manners, Princess. Your rebellion in light of your situation will only bring you to grief.”
“I will not blindly accept that this is the end of the matter,” Marit told him stiffly. She looked into his eyes. “It is not my way to simper and sigh.”
“No,” Alexander said softly, admiration plain in his warm eyes. “It is not.” He saw her blush and he was intrigued. He gained control of himself. “Your cousin thought to blame your abduction on my man, Atherton,” he told her as he watched her in growing delight. “He thought it would go unnoticed long enough for him to get you to Stormkeep. He lost his gamble.” He rose and held out his arm to her. “Your cousin and Northfell should be here now, my lady. Shall we go see?”
Marit rose and laid her hand on his arm. She felt the chill stone on her bare feet and looked around for footwear. Alexander found a pair of soft leather boots trimmed with embroidery and fur and laced up the front. He had her sit down and he drew them up over her feet and legs; his hands stroking her bare skin. Marit shivered as his hands touched her. He continued putting on the boots and then pulled her up into his arms. His kiss sent chills shooting through her and she whimpered as her body surrendered to him without a moment’s hesitation.
“I could not help myself,” Alexander said softly as
Marit shook her head, refusing to believe that she was being taken to some man other than Justin. Who was this ‘lord’ that Barnabas kept referring to? And why did he want her as his bride? She remembered then what Tavin had told her and froze in shock. Atherton was a minion of her father’s enemy, the Emperor Alexander, the very man whose armies were making incursions into the borderlands. She could not let herself be taken to that man. He would use her to destroy everything her father and his allies had built here.
“You are still such an innocent, my lady,” Barnabas laughed as the horse was pulled forward. “I thought Horis had cured you of that. I remember giving him orders to that effect when I bought you for my lord.” He shrugged and missed the horrified look on Marit’s face. “No matter. He will enjoy taking your innocence himself.”
They came over the crest of the rise and Marit’s eyes widened. In the center of an immense lake, a fortress rose up carved from the mountain stone. Thick walls surrounded an immense central tower. She could see smaller towers on the corners of the fortress, and what looked like dozens of men walking the parapets.
“Enjoying the view, princess?” Barnabas smiled as he looked up to see her astonished expression. “It is not nearly as impressive as your father’s fortress, but it will keep you secure.” He mounted behind her and ran his hand along her cheek, feeling her shudder. His hand continued down her arm as his eyes remained fixed on hers. “With your father allied to my lord, there will be no stopping my armies.” His eyes went quite cold. “King Marius will wish some token to prove we have you.” He removed the brooch from her cloak and held it out to his lieutenant. “You will take this to the noble king with our lord’s demands for alliance.” Marit hissed as he stroked her arm. He felt her shudder and knew a strange sense of triumph. “You are right to fear me, Princess. I hold your life or your death in my hands.”
“Then let it be death,” Marit snapped at him. “I am not going to let you use me to destroy all my father has built here.”
“You really think you have a choice?”
He clamped his hand on her throat and Marit clawed at him, trying to make him stop. When he finally released her at the steps of the keep, she was shaking in weakness. She glared up at him coldly. He yanked on her hair and saw the blaze of anger in her eyes.
“Such looks, fair lady,” Barnabas laughed as he saw her fall to her knees. “Not at all the genteel maiden. You would scratch my eyes out if you could.”
He took her inside the great hall and froze as he saw a tall, chestnut-haired man seated on his throne. Barnabas was on his knee, bowing his head as Marit stood next to him, looking at the man in confusion. She had never seen a more perfect man in her life. There was not one flaw in his face or form. And the look on his face, as he looked at Barnabas made her feel hopeful.
“You were told to bring the princess to us undamaged, lord Atherton,” the Emperor Alexander said coldly as he looked at Marit. “Remove the shackles at once and leave us.”
“Yes, Excellency.”
“Did he harm you, Princess?” Alexander asked once they were alone. He saw her look and laughed. “I understand that you are angry at the way my invitation was issued…”
“Invitation?” Marit laughed. “Is that what you call being forcibly abducted?” She narrowed her eyes. “Who are you?”
“Where are my manners?” Alexander frowned. “I am the Emperor Alexander. And I,” he continued, his warm brown eyes shining with amusement, “am here to claim you as wife.”
“What?” Marit took a step back, shaking her head. “All noble men are insane, my lord?” He looked at her in confusion. “I am not in the market for a third husband.”
“I was under the impression that you were unwed, my lady,” Alexander frowned back at her.
“I have been promised to Justin of Northfell,” Marit told him. “My cousin, Tavin of Stormkeep, has declared his wish to make me his wife. And now you,” she snapped, “heir to my father’s enemy, send men to abduct me so you can make a claim?” She shook her head. “I won’t have this! I would rather be locked in a convent…”
“Unfortunately for you, my pretty princess,” Alexander broke in, laughing at her childish display, “a convent will never be your destination.” He saw her look. “You are the daughter of the king of the borderlands, ruler over his and seventeen other lands, protector of the outlands to the south. There is only marriage in your future.”
“I could die,” Marit told him. “Then my father would leave all to my cousin, Rafel.” She saw the knife on the belt of the guard next to her and she pulled it out before he could stop her. “It would solve all of this quite neatly.”
“It would only cause civil war, Princess,” Alexander replied as he met her frantic eyes. He rose and she backed into the guard who, very gently, removed the dagger from her hand and put it back on his belt. Alexander took Marit’s hand and lifted it to his lips, feeling her shiver. “Your cousin, Rafel, is not old enough or experienced enough to command the respect of the lords under your father’s hold.”
He led her to the kitchen, where he made her sit, and went to pour himself some wine. She stayed as far away from him as she could get, keeping her eyes on him warily. He had been right in his choice of her as a bride; this princess would not go down easily. It was only right; considering who her parents were. He would have expected no less from the daughter of the Borderlands king and a daughter of the royal house of Stormkeep.
“Northfell and Stormkeep are on the way here to act as witnesses to our union.” He looked at her over the rim of his goblet. “Neither of them is worthy of you, lady. I am the much better choice.”
“But you are not my choice,” Marit cried in protest. She saw his expression and frowned. “I suppose you will now tell me that a woman of my rank has no choice?”
“Of course you do, Princess,” Alexander replied, enjoying her dancing emotions in those glorious emerald eyes of hers. “You marry me or you watch everyone you care for die.”
Alexander waited for her to say something to his threat. When she did not, he shrugged. Her eyes were so expressive there was really no need for her to speak. Anyone with a brain could tell that she was angry, and willing to do harm if she got even half a chance. He was still stunned that the girl had proven to be as fierce as she was. He had expected her to be easily cowed, given her upbringing. Obviously her heritage had kept her from falling into the despair Atherton had hoped to engender in her.
“You are a strange child. Obviously your time away from court has given you a far different view of things than I expected.” He shrugged and rose to his feet. “It doesn’t matter. You will soon be seeing things my way.” He walked towards her and she was watching him warily. He laughed as he took her by the elbow and led her upstairs to a chamber. The guards opened the door and Alexander set her inside the room. “Shall we make a wager, dear lady, on how long it will be before you break?”
Marit heard his laughter long after the door was bolted fast. She went to the bed and sank down on it, fighting the tears that were pricking at her eyes. She wiped them away angrily, determined to fight her captor as long as possible. She finally dozed off and when she woke the next morning, it was to find that she had been stripped of her clothing and put into a plain emerald green wool gown. Her hair was loosed about her and her feet were bare. Something hard and cold was around her throat and wrists.
“Do you not like your wedding gift, my lady,” Alexander said as he came in and saw her at the mirror, looking at the ornately engraved collar around her throat. It matched the bracers on her wrists, and the girdle at her hips. “They were prepared especially for you, my bride.” She shuddered as he came up behind her and put his arms on hers, holding her in front of him. Alexander pushed the gown off her shoulders. He ran his lips along her shoulders and smiled. “One day quite soon,” he said as he met her eyes in the mirror, “you will shiver for a far different reason when I touch you.”
He moved away from her and went to pour wine into two goblets. He took a sip and watched as she removed the restraints. He hoped he would never have to show her how they worked, he thought to himself as she set the bracers down; quickly followed by the girdle and the collar. Her expression dared him to make an issue of her removing them. He merely shrugged and she looked at him in confusion. Let her think they were merely trinkets for now.
“Come talk with me, princess,” Alexander said, his words no mere request. Marit sat down across from him, her attitude telling him he would hurt if he tried anything. He held the goblet out to her and she took it, warily. “I would hear your beautiful voice.” She took a sip of the wine instead and he found her obstinancy quite annoying. “I shall have to see to it that you receive some education in courtly manners, Princess. Your rebellion in light of your situation will only bring you to grief.”
“I will not blindly accept that this is the end of the matter,” Marit told him stiffly. She looked into his eyes. “It is not my way to simper and sigh.”
“No,” Alexander said softly, admiration plain in his warm eyes. “It is not.” He saw her blush and he was intrigued. He gained control of himself. “Your cousin thought to blame your abduction on my man, Atherton,” he told her as he watched her in growing delight. “He thought it would go unnoticed long enough for him to get you to Stormkeep. He lost his gamble.” He rose and held out his arm to her. “Your cousin and Northfell should be here now, my lady. Shall we go see?”
Marit rose and laid her hand on his arm. She felt the chill stone on her bare feet and looked around for footwear. Alexander found a pair of soft leather boots trimmed with embroidery and fur and laced up the front. He had her sit down and he drew them up over her feet and legs; his hands stroking her bare skin. Marit shivered as his hands touched her. He continued putting on the boots and then pulled her up into his arms. His kiss sent chills shooting through her and she whimpered as her body surrendered to him without a moment’s hesitation.
“I could not help myself,” Alexander said softly as
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