"In faith, Siobhan, I am a fool," he said with a wry smile as he bent closer to kiss her.

"Aye, my lord." She fed upon his mouth, savoring his weight as he covered her, pressing her down to the bed. "And a blackguard besides." His kisses trailed along her jaw, and she bent her head back with a sigh, offering her throat. He kissed her pulse, and she felt the cool threat of his fangs against her skin. But he did not bite her. Moving back up to quickly kiss her mouth, he backed away, rising from the bed.

"Alas," he said, smiling as he held her hand, her fingers laced with his. "I cannot trust you." He broke the silken cord that held back the bed hangings on one side and looped it tight around her wrist, binding her to the bedpost.

"No!" she protested, instantly alert. "You will not!"

"How will you stop me?" He caught her other wrist with careless ease as she drew back to strike him. "I came back home to be avenged, remember?" He bound her to the other post with the cord from the other side, lying across her to do it, ignoring her struggles.

"Tristan, please..." He saw fury in her eyes but fear as well. He had hurt her as much in the past as she had hurt him, and she knew he was a demon. She had every cause to be afraid.

"No, my love." He caught her writhing hips between his hands and held her gently still, pressing a kiss to her stomach through her gown. "Trust me." He caressed her curves, nuzzling her softness, the hollow of her hip and lower still. The warm, sweet scent of her made him feel drunk, made him want her even more. "I won't hurt you, I promise." He drew her skirt up slowly, gathering it in his fist until the blade was revealed, strapped to her thigh. "But I cannot leave you free to hurt me, either." He pressed a fervent lover's kiss to the inside of her knee, her skin soft as velvet, as he drew the blade, and a strange shiver raced through him, echoed in her sigh. Tossing the weapon aside, he took the sheath as well, unbuckling the leather to nuzzle the skin underneath.

"Tristan," she protested, twisting beneath his touch, no longer certain if she hated or savored her bonds. She hated feeling helpless; she needed control, the comfort of her reason and her sword. But this demon whispered, "Trust me," and her soul longed to obey. He promised not to hurt her, and in spite of everything she knew, her heart longed to believe. Closing her eyes, she heard the ripping of her stolen gown, felt the cool night air against her skin as her lover/captor tore the silk that covered her away.

"Beautiful," he whispered. This time, he kissed her bare stomach, and molten desire rushed through her, burning hot and sweet.

"So beautiful." His shadowed beard was rough against her skin, but his voice and his touch were so tender, she thought she might cry. His tongue flickered inside her navel; his teeth grazed the edge, and she whimpered, tugging at the cords that held her. She wanted to hold him, to touch him. His hands kneaded the curve of her hips, lifting her up as his kiss found her s.e.x, and she screamed, wordless longing.

"I want to see you," she begged him, trembling all over. "All of you...Tristan, please." But he was relentless, his tongue delving inside of her, driving her mad. He drew the deepest heart of her desire gently through his teeth, and she cried out again in blissful agony, oblivious to shame. "You b.a.s.t.a.r.d, come inside of me," she cursed him as he tenderly suckled her flesh and a wave of want broke hot inside of her, teasing the edge of release. "Now...I need you now."

With a groan, he moved away from her, tearing off his clothes only slightly more carefully than he had torn away Siobhan's. "Shut up," he ordered her, rough with tenderness and want. "Do you know how much I want you?" He moved over her, framing her face in his hands, his beautiful brigand. "Do you want to drive me mad?"

"Yes," she answered, smiling up in triumph. "Always, every moment." Her hips arched up beneath him, and her hot little s.e.x brushed his c.o.c.k, burning his flesh like a brand. "Love me, Tristan."

"Dear G.o.d, yes..." He kissed her for barely a moment, crushing her beneath him as he drove his c.o.c.k inside.

She gasped, complete at last. "My love..." Even bound and fighting, she felt safe with him, twisting her wrists in their cords to be free. He was here, her beloved. He was hers. She wrapped her legs around him, rising up to meet his thrust, and release tore through her, making the world go black. Her grip weakened as she shuddered, and he kissed her, bringing her back to the world, to herself, to his arms. Her climax rose again as his tongue battled hers, and she moaned into his mouth, feeling him spill inside her.

"Siobhan," he murmured, kissing her cheek, and she whimpered something in response, wordless pleading as her tears spilled on his lips. He reached up and broke the cords that held her wrists, and she twined her arms around him, pressing closer, not trying to fight or to flee. "My sweet Siobhan." He drew her hands against his chest and rolled to his side, and she snuggled against him, warm and soft. I love you, he thought but could not tell her even now.

He thought again of her tears the night before, the terror and hurt he had seen in her eyes. "You are safe, little brigand," he swore to her instead, pressing a kiss to her hair. He would have his revenge on her brother, would make his castle safe. But he would leave her there. He would go with Simon and Orlando in their quest, take up the burden of his curse. But Siobhan would have the castle, the lands that by blood should be hers. "I will keep you safe." She mumbled something more he could not understand, and he smiled, tears of blood in his eyes. Stroking her hair, he held her close until she fell asleep.

At the last bell before dawn, he found Simon and the others in the solar, just as he had ordered. "Well met," his vampire brother said, offering his hand as he came in. Andrew and Sebastian were sitting before the fire, playing chess, but they still wore their armor, he noticed. "How fares your lady?"

"Well enough," Tristan said brusquely, unwilling to say more. Orlando and Silas were sitting together over a book, discussing some sort of alchemical equation as if the fate of the G.o.d's heaven depended upon it, in obvious enjoyment. But Silas wore a dagger at his hip. "I thought they might get on," Tristan said, indicating the two scholars with a nod.

"Like pups of a litter," Simon agreed with a grin. "Would that my lady were here to join into their debate. She has strong opinions on the subject."

Tristan looked at him, surprised. The other vampire had spoken of a true love but with such sadness, he had a.s.sumed the lady was long dead. "Your lady is a scholar?"

Simon's grin widened, but his eyes were sad. "You cannot imagine." He shook his head as if to shake away a thought. "I have spoken to some of your servants," he said, changing the subject. "The young man we captured is a suitor of your daughter's nurse and a follower of Lebuin. He remembers nothing beyond what we put into his mind, at least not yet." He frowned. "Such magicks often do not last."

"It doesn't have to last," Tristan promised. In truth, he was no more comfortable manipulating men's minds than Simon, for all it could be useful. "What have you learned?"

"Lebuin and some of his men slipped out of the castle late this afternoon," he said. "The general feeling is that either he is the worst sort of coward for abandoning his sister or that he will return. Either way, the common folk no longer hold him in such high regard." The corner of his mouth quirked up. "It seems there have been murders within the castle walls that Lebuin could neither explain nor avenge. I have overheard many say that though they fear your wrath, at least you will bring safety to those you choose to spare."

"I ought to hang the lot of them," Tristan muttered, remembering his shock when Richard had told him the gates were breached with peasant help. Poor Richard, fallen in his first real battle. "But I will not," he finished. A wholesale slaughter would not bring back Richard or his knights. He would save his fury for those who most deserved it. "What of the soldiers?"

"Your lieutenants are still imprisoned in the dungeon," Simon answered. "The others are mixed in with the rest of the guard, I suppose."

"How many of the guards are brigands?" Andrew had noticed his presence and moved to rise, but Tristan waved him back into his chair.

"How should I know?" Simon laughed. "I do not know your men."

For a moment, Tristan couldn't understand what he meant-surely any fool could tell the difference between a Norman soldier and a Saxon thief. "They look just alike," he realized with a wry smile. "Fine, then-I will sort them out tomorrow. Or not."

Lebuin had won Tristan's soldiers' friendship with mercy; perhaps Tristan could do the same to his. "In any case, will you go to my lieutenants? Tell them I would see them hanged, but you have interceded for them and asked me to show mercy."

"What will that accomplish?" Simon asked, puzzled.

"They will fear me too much to serve me as they once did, at least for a while," he answered. "But if they think that you have saved their lives now, when they are certain of death and dishonor, they will serve you, no matter what comes."

Simon raised an eyebrow. "And you would trust me to do this?"

He looked at the two knights playing chess by the hearth, once as close to him as kin. He thought of his true cousin, the king, so engrossed in dark affairs of state so far from here he had never known Tristan was attacked. "I have no choice," he answered, meeting his new brother's eyes. "In truth, you are the only friend I have."

"My lord," Andrew said, getting up as if unable to contain himself any longer. "What goes on here? The groom who took my horse told me tales to make my hair turn white, and Sebastian's servant told him he has heard the same."

"I am surprised at both of you, paying heed to gossip," Tristan said with a wry smile, secretly pleased. They were both of them so young, and they seemed ready to challenge Satan himself on his behalf.

"We are in earnest, my lord," Sebastian said as if to emphasize the point.

"I know, sir knight," he answered, sobering. "'Tis true, I fear. Things at this castle have gone ill indeed while you've been away, and we are not safe yet."

"Lebuin," Andrew said, speaking the name as a curse.

"The same," Tristan answered. "His sister is my wife, and I do mean to keep her. But for the man himself, there will be no pity."

"Do you think that wise, Lord Tristan?" Orlando said in the tone that seemed to always bring Simon to heel and made Tristan want to pick up the little wizard and shake him like a rat.

"Aye, sirrah," Tristan answered, giving him a glare to grind a stone to dust.

"I have to agree with Tristan in this." Silas nodded. "If Lebuin is not found, he will return."

"Let him come," Sebastian said with a laugh. "Your knights are returned to you, my lord. We need have no fear of common bandits."

"Lebuin is no common bandit," Tristan answered. "And the people we would keep within these walls do love him well." He thought of Siobhan, weeping before she struck him. "I couldn't let you kill him," she had said of Sean. "He loves me...he's all I have left." No more, my love, he silently promised, refusing to try to imagine how he would comfort her after the deed was done. "I am still not strong," he said aloud. "I have joined the duke in a program of abstinence and prayer in hopes of regaining my health."

"My lord?" Andrew said, looking back and forth between the vampires in obvious confusion.

"You will not see me in the daylight," Tristan explained. Simon had doubted the wisdom of his returning for just this reason-he couldn't imagine Tristan could make men who had known him so long and so well believe such a wagonload of nonsense. But these were Tristan's knights, sworn to him since boyhood. They would believe whatever he told them. "Nor will I take meat in company. In the daylight hours, you must report to these two men." He pointed to Silas and Orlando.

"A scholar and a dwarf?" Sebastian said, appalled. "No offense intended, sirrahs, but..." He looked helplessly at Tristan as if waiting for the finish of the jest.

"Silas has held this castle faithful to the crown in my absence with no help but his wits," Tristan said sternly. "And Orlando is a wizard; I dare say his wisdom will more than make up for his size."

"If they are your men, we will serve them, my lord," Andrew promised, giving his friend a scornful look.

"Aye, my lord," Sebastian hastened to agree. "Of course."

Orlando watched the knights give in to Tristan's will like scolded puppies, and a chill shivered through him. This man had no business being a vampire. He thought of the signs he had seen in his portents for days, the harbingers of some great shadow moving over them, ready to strike. Kivar was close; he could feel his evil presence. Would Tristan be his vessel? He did not like to think so. He liked the young lordling; there was great n.o.bility in him far deeper than his blood. But he would not risk their quest for him, could not risk Kivar's return in a shape of such power. Tristan must be watched.

"My bride must be watched," Tristan was saying to his knights. "She is not a prisoner; she is not to be molested or abused. But she must not be allowed to leave the castle."

"We will keep her safe, my lord," Sebastian promised. "And Lady Clare as well."

"I have no doubt." Tristan nodded with a smile. "Now leave us. I would speak to my healers and Silas alone."

"As you will, my lord," Andrew said, obviously disappointed.

"I will be with you again tomorrow night." He clasped each of their hands in turn. "And when I am healed, I will give you thanks."

"No need, my lord," Sebastian said with a smile of relief.

"They serve you well," Orlando said when they were gone. "You must be a good master."

"Not good enough," Tristan said grimly, turning back to him. "But even so, here is my plan."

CHAPTER 15

Siobhan was not surprised to find Tristan gone when she awoke the next morning. But when she discovered he had taken her sword, she cursed herself for her own stupidity. "Stupid girl," she muttered, tossing through the pretty rags that had been her gown in hopes she might have missed it. "Lazy cow...sleeping so long." In truth, she had slept better than she had in months, curled against her husband's side, demon that he was. But that in itself was enough to make her think herself a fool.

She put on another borrowed gown, tossing the remains of the one he had ruined into the rag bag at the bottom of her wardrobe.

For all she knew, her slippers were still in the courtyard where she'd kicked them off, and in truth, she did not miss them. She briefly considered a second pair with long, curled toes before pulling on her own boots, the dictates of womanly fashion be d.a.m.ned.The hall downstairs looked almost just the same as always, just a bit more crowded. Tristan was not present, of course, but neither was his friend the duke, or the baron of Callard. The king's clerk was sitting in the corner near the stairway, poring over a book. He glanced up as she pa.s.sed and nodded, mumbling, "My lady," before going back to his reading. The knights having their breakfast at the dais rose from their seats just as her father's men had done when her mother appeared. She managed a sickly smile before hurrying past them and out through the arch. Yes, her mother had been a lady, worthy of such courtesies. And think what had happened to her.

She hurried across the courtyard toward the stables. She wanted to find Sean and the others quickly, form some plan of action before she was any more confused. Obviously she was not to be trusted; her mind was in a stupid woman's whirl of kisses and horrors combined. But perhaps a night spent in the forest had cleared her brother's head.

In truth, she couldn't imagine what she meant to do any more. With Master Nicholas and a full battalion of knights in residence again, her and Sean's great dream of driving the Normans out was surely dead. She couldn't abandon the people who had trusted them to the rule of a vampire, or Sean to a vampire's revenge. But how could she save them without destroying Tristan? And now that she knew she loved him, how could she do that? Even a.s.suming she ever found her sword again...a pretty muddle, to be certain. "Good morning, my lady," another knight called out pleasantly, coming quickly to meet her.

"Good morning," she answered, barely noticing. She had to talk to Tristan, not let him sweep her off her feet but talk to him. She could plead for Sean's life, perhaps even make him tell her his intentions now that he had returned to be lord of his castle. But first she had to find Sean and make certain he tried nothing foolish in the nonce.

"A fine morning, isn't it?" the knight said as he reached her.

"Yes," she said, hiding her annoyance with a pleasant expression that she hoped made her look as if bird-song and sunshine concerned her in the slightest. "It's lovely." She started to walk past him, and he sidestepped in front of her.

"I am Sir Sebastian, by the way," he said, still smiling. He was a handsome fellow with an open, honest face, but he wore his full armor on this fine summer morning, and he stood a head and shoulders taller than she herself. "I have served your husband since first he came to England."

"Have you?" she said, trying to imagine what a real lady would say to such a statement. "Then you have known him far longer than I have myself."

"Indeed." His smile never wavered, but his blue eyes, she now noticed, were sharp with suspicion. "Where are you going, my lady?"

"Nowhere in particular," she answered. "I thought I might take a ride." She gave him her most dazzling smile. "It being such a lovely morning."

"I'm sorry, my lady," he said. "I'm afraid I can't allow that."

"Pardon me?" she asked, arching a brow. "You cannot allow?"

"Things are still rather chaotic," he explained with an apologetic smile that didn't fool her in the least. "With all the excitement of our returning on the same night as Lord Tristan, every knight in the garrison is engaged. But perhaps this afternoon someone will be free to escort you."

"Sir Sebastian, I can certainly imagine how busy you all must be," she said, struggling to maintain her ladylike tone. "But I a.s.sure you, I have been riding on my own with no escort for quite some time now-"

"Lord Tristan has left strict orders that you are to be protected at all times," he cut her off again. "Nothing is more important to him than your safety and that of Lady Clare." His voice took on a definite edge as his smile faded a notch. "And I a.s.sure you, there is not a man in this castle who would betray your husband's trust."

His warning was impossible to miss. "How very rea.s.suring," she said, her cheeks warming slightly but her smile intact. "I will wait, of course." d.a.m.n Tristan's eyes-he might as well have thrown her in the dungeon. "Tell me, Sir Sebastian; do you happen to know where my husband is now?"

"As a matter of fact...he has taken up residence in the dungeons," he admitted with a more genuine smile. "Apparently he and the duke are...well, to be honest, my lady, he said they would be praying."

"Praying?" she echoed.

"Aye, my lady," he said, sounding rather dubious himself. "Apparently the duke is a member of some sort of Crusader's order that forsakes both the daylight and company for prayer and meditation."

"And Tristan has joined him in this?" So Lyan was a vampire, too, she thought with a shiver. The demon in Silas's book had held off an entire garrison of Roman soldiers on his own; how was she supposed to deal with two at once?

"In faith, my lady, I was as surprised as you are to hear it," Sebastian admitted. "As I said, I have known Lord Tristan for years, and nothing..." His voice trailed off as if he weren't quite certain how to finish.

"I know just what you mean," she said with a smile he returned.

"He said he would join us in the manor at sunset," he said. She started toward the tower, and he hurried after her. "My lady, if you will only wait-"

"Must I wait for everything?" she cut him off, turning to face him halfway across the bridge.

"I know it seems hard," he said. "In faith, I don't...my lady, please." He caught her gently by the arm, and she should have bristled, should have been appalled. But something in his eyes touched her in spite of her better judgment. This Norman knight was as confused and worried as she was herself. "Lord Tristan is obviously fond of you, and he would very likely forgive your intrusion."

"Fond of me?" she echoed with a laugh.

"An understatement, obviously." In truth, she had thought he'd overshot the mark. Tristan wanted her, but she had never imagined his feelings could be described as fond. "You are his true love." He was serious, she realized. "But he left most careful instructions that he was not to be disturbed by anyone, not even his most loyal knights. If you were to interrupt his prayers, he would certainly blame us for it." His smile was charming enough to call down the birds from the trees. If she had been the creature she pretended to be, she would surely have been dazzled. "You don't want that, do you?"

"Of course not." She laid a hand over his on her arm. "The last thing I would wish is for you or any of your brother knights to come to harm." I have no mercy for you, her own voice echoed deep inside her head. I will not watch you die. Not so very long ago, she had stood very near this spot and helped condemn four of this man's comrades to the axe. Just thinking of it made her dizzy now. How could she have come so far so quickly?

As if to answer her thoughts, the portcullis opened, and the baron of Callard rode in, followed by Gaston. He turned his handsome face up to the sunlight as the dogs circled his horse and barked, smiling as if from pure joy. "Thank you, my lady," Sir Sebastian was saying. "I feel certain that my lord will seek you out the moment he emerges."

"Yes," she answered, barely listening. "I'm sure he will." She could not leave the castle, but Callard could. If she could not get to Sean herself or talk to Tristan until sundown, perhaps she should pa.s.s the time of day with him. "Thank you, sir knight." Sean trusted this man, and he seemed clever enough to keep a foot in either camp more efficiently that she was managing to do.

Perhaps he could help her after all. With a final smile at Sir Sebastian, she started back across the bridge to follow the baron to the manor.