Chapter Seven

CHAPTER SEVEN

"T he woman," Apollo asked casually. "Who is she?"

De Velt's knights were still awaiting his return. The food had been brought, the servants scattered, and now they sat in disjointed conversation as they drank the wine and ate the food. No business could be conducted without de Velt's presence. L'Ancresse's question was on everyone's mind.

"She is the lady of Pelinom," Amadeo replied. "Her father was garrison commander. We sent him back to Foulburn."

"You did not kill him?"

"Nay."

Properly informed, L'Ancresse cast some of the other men at the table a long glance. "What is she still doing here?" he asked.

"You'll have to ask de Velt."

It was a puzzling situation. Whenever they commandeered a fortress, the women and children were usually the first thing to go. Jax had made that one of the primary rules of conquest. Even now, six castles along the Marches were virtually women-free at de Velt's order. But at Pelinom, apparently the rules were changed.

"She must warm his bed," one of the other generals, Atreus, spoke. He was an older man, wiser, and had known Jax for most of his life. He was probably one of the few who could get away with speaking his mind. "There is no other alternative."

"She administers the coffers of Pelinom," Amadeo replied, smacking his lips to the tart wine. "Beyond that, I can tell you no more."

"There are seven women here," Caelen spoke, his mouth full.

That raised a few eyebrows. "Seven?" Atreus repeated incredulously. "Why would de Velt keep seven women here?"

"Because that woman has bewitched him."

They all looked over at Henley, seated at the end of the table and well into his third cup of wine. When he saw the attention on him, he looked at Amadeo and gestured with a sharp hand.

"Am I wrong?" he asked Amadeo, the other knights. "She has cast a spell upon him somehow. His attention is on her when it should be on our next target. She weeps and he folds like an idiot. Do you want to know why there are seven women still here? Because she asked it of him. She cried and begged him not to do away with her women and, lo and behold, the women were not put away."

It was shocking news. Amadeo's guarded glance moved around the table, wondering what the generals were thinking, ashamed and defensive on Jax's behalf. But the truth was that he sided with them.

"He is our liege," Amadeo reminded the group. "He may do as he pleases. If he wants to keep the women around, so be it. It is not up to us to question him. I, for one, will not."

"He is breaking the rules he has set forth to the rest of us," another general named Ares spoke. He was the most opinionated of the group and risked much with his loud mouth. "He demands we do away with the weak and small at our garrisons yet he does not do the same."

"He is our liege," Amadeo reminded him again, louder. "If you would care to question the man as to his reasons, be my guest."

Ares would not go so far as to question Jax. Only a fool would do so and he was not completely foolish. But Henley was now into his fourth cup of wine and his tongue was greatly loosened.

"'Tis the lady who controls Pelinom, not de Velt," he rumbled. "He would do anything for her. Why do you think he cut down the enemy knight that was posted at the gatehouse? Because she begged him to. She begged him to bury the man with the baby he fathered. And he did it."

More stunning news; the generals did nothing more than glance uneasily at each other. Did this woman have so much power over a man they believed to be beyond such wiles? It was incredible to say the least. But Amadeo felt as if he was making excuses for their liege in front of the others.

"Again I say, if you will be the first to question him about his motives, then by all means do so."

Henley grumbled. "She's a witch, I say. And witches must be killed."

"Touch her and de Velt will have your hide," Amadeo said pointedly. "She is untouchable."

"She is a witch," Henley repeated, draining his cup. "How many fortresses have we seized? How many battles have we faced? De Velt is the Devil himself in battle and smites all who oppose him. He promised us riches beyond our wildest dreams when we set forth to battle on the Scots border. A garrison for each of us, money in our pockets. But what has happened instead? He finds a lovely chit at Pelinom and his mind has been destroyed. His will is gone. And it is all that… that woman's doing."

Amadeo was watching the hairy man work himself up into a rage. "If I were you," he said slowly, "I would curb my tongue. Nothing about Jax de Velt has been destroyed. If he hears you, then you shall find out just how strong he remains. He will kill you."

Henley snorted, pouring himself his fifth cup of wine. "You know I speak the truth, Amadeo," he slurped. "You have seen how he looks at her. She weakens him like a disease. If we are to preserve what Jax has promised us, then she must be removed."

Henley did not see Jax enter the hall, moving in the shadows as he made his way towards his men. Jax had heard the last few sentences of the conversation, not particularly surprised with the subject but exceedingly enraged. By the time Amadeo and a few of the other generals saw him, it was too late to warn Henley. The man was far gone with his opinion.

"I will do what needs to be done," Henley pounded his fist against the table. "You will all thank me when you see how right I am. The woman is a sorceress, bleeding Jax of his resolve. He is not the man who commanded our armies to victory on the Marches. That woman is infecting him, weakening him, and she must be destroyed!"

A shadow as massive as the dead of night slipped up behind Henley. As the man lurched to his feet, he suddenly stiffened, arching his back, his mouth opening in a silent scream. The shadow behind him loomed into the light as Jax shoved a dirk deep into Henley's ribcage, angling the blade in an upward motion so that it severed all that was critical in Henley's chest.

Henley didn't utter a sound as he crumpled in the throes of death; Jax grabbed him by the hair and tossed him to the ground several feet away. The knight lay there and bled to death, and Jax did not give him another thought. His focus was on the remaining ten knights around the table; the dual-colored eyes blazed with an unnatural light.

"Is there anyone else who feels as Henley did?" he asked calmly. "Come forth now and make your claim. I will listen."

Amadeo was still seated, his eyes riveted to Jax. What had happened to Henley was not shocking; he'd seen it before. Jax de Velt was, if nothing else, capable of things most men were not. But now was not the time to provoke him. He could, quite easily, kill them all and hardly raise a sweat.

"He does not speak for all of us, my lord," he said steadily. "He was drunk. Men say many things when they are drunk."

Jax looked at his second in command. "Truth comes with wine."

Amadeo simply shook his head. "He does not speak for all of us. But I would be lying if I said there are those of us who wonder why you have kept the women alive when you have never done such a thing before. Surely you must realize that."

Jax sheathed the dirk into his mail vest. "I need not explain my reasons to you."

"Nay, you do not."

Jax moved around the table with the grace of a stalking cat. He was very much in battle mode even though he trusted his generals. He knew they would not move against him. Still, he had a strong sense of self-preservation. He never trusted anyone completely.

"Then let me be plain so there will be no question," he said, reaching for his own cup of wine. "The lady of Pelinom serves a purpose. The castle is very rich and she is well-versed in administering the wealth. Even now she arranges for a harvest that will bring a good deal of wealth into the coffers. As for the other women, with the male servants either dead or run off, the castle cannot function without their assistance. They fill valuable roles at this time. That could change tomorrow, a week from now or a month from now. But at this time, they serve a necessary function. Is that clear?"

Most of the men nodded. Some of them simply looked to their wine or their food. Jax's two-colored gaze moved over them with a mixture of suspicion and satisfaction. He'd had to quell potential rebellions before, but never ones that were the result of a woman. This was something of a new experience and he found himself far more on the defensive than usual. Perhaps because just a small part of him knew his men were right. She did control him.

"I will make one more statement and speak no more of it," he went on. "What I do with the lady of Pelinom is my affair. It does not involve any of you and it does not affect our plans in any fashion. We are still planning on taking the border between Berwick to Kelso. We will do the same thing we did in Wales; garrison the castles, monitor the roads, and control the flow of merchants, goods and others across the border with hefty tolls. We will confiscate the lands, tax the peasants, and create our own kingdom within this country. None of this will change regardless of my plans for Lady Kellington. Do you comprehend?"

Most of the men nodded. Everyone but Amadeo. The generals from the Welsh Border were far less involved in this than he was, or Caelen or Michael, so the explanation was directed mostly at them.

"Point taken, my lord," Amadeo said evenly. "You must understand that men become unstable when things are out of the norm. We have never known you to give any regard to anything other than your own agenda. The introduction of things that are not usual within our world are cause for question."

Amadeo had a way of soothing Jax; it was almost an underhanded manner of controlling the man and his temper. But Jax was aware of it and knew enough to not give in to the man's total attempts to manipulate him. As he regarded the group, Jax decided to be plain with his knights so that there would be no questions regarding the lady. The rumors were already starting and he knew he needed to stop the progression; rumors could undermine all that he had worked to achieve. Moreover, he had never held back from his men in the past and saw no reason to hold back now. The sooner they understand everything, the better for them all.

"You should be aware of something else regarding Lady Kellington," he said, eyeing each of them. "I plan to marry the woman. A man must have heirs and I have decided that she will be the mother of my sons. She is, therefore, to be given the same respect you show me. More so. Any in fraction against her, however small, will be harshly dealt with. Make sure your men are aware."

That statement was met with some shock. Atreus and Amadeo looked at each other, stunned at the news.

"But…," Atreus tried to be tactful. "You are a warring man, my old friend. You do not stay in one place long enough for the stability a wife requires and she cannot be a part of this war machine. You have tried this once before and failed. Have you given that any thought?"

Jax looked at his general, perhaps the most treasured of his men. If such a thing was possible, he adored him as one would an older brother. If anyone else had asked him the question, he would have roared. But coming from Atreus, he took it for what it was worth.

"You will let me worry about that," he replied. "But know that she does not affect my judgment, my ambition or my thoughts. I am as you have always known. I am Ajax de Velt."

There was nothing more to say to that. Jax looked at each and every one of his generals, men he had fought beside for many years. They were as hard as stone, powerful and loyal. In the treacherous world he lived in, that was a rare thing. With a final glance around the table, he bent over the old vellum map held down by weights against the massive oak table top.

"Now," he switched to his professional persona, completely disregarding Henley's cooling corpse a few feet away as Atreus went to grab the man by the wrist and drag him from the hall. "We have already taken mighty Norham Castle from Hugh de Puiset. Now we have Pelinom. The next castle is White Crag near Kelso and I would take Caerleon as well. Small as she is, she will make an excellent outpost. It is my intention to send Amadeo back to Norham once we have managed to secure White Crag to begin the militarization of the Norham. It is a big castle and vital to my plans. Caelen will take White Crag and Michael will take Caerleon. Any questions so far?"

"And Pelinom?" Amadeo asked.

Jax lifted his eyebrows. "It was to be Henley's but those plans have changed. It will be mine for the time being."

The men around the table were not surprised at that, considering what they had been told. But no one said a word. Instead, they huddled closer to the table to better hear the plans of conquest from the mind of Ajax de Velt.

*

Kellington did not see Jax that night or into the next day. She stayed to her chamber as asked, joined by Matilda and Lavaine, and the three of them spent the time sewing or playing backgammon on a board that Keats Coleby had brought his daughter all the way from Spain.

In the early evening hours that night, Kellington had told Lavaine about her conversation with Jax with regard to the woman's husband and son. Lavaine had shed more painful tears but at least she knew their fate. As Kellington comforted the woman, she didn't dare tell her about Jax's declaration of marriage. She herself was still shocked by it. She had no idea how Lavaine would react. The more she thought on the prospect, the more disoriented she became.

But she forced herself to put those thoughts aside. The hours passed as Kellington beat Lavaine at backgammon two out of every three games. Matilda sat on a small stool near the hearth, finishing a gown for Kellington that she had been working on for some time. They had purchased the fabric in Carlisle in the fall, a rich golden wool with ancient symbols woven into the hemline. It had come all the way from Ireland and Matilda was busy sewing squirrel fur into the hem of the belled sleeves and around the scooped neckline.

Eventually, Lavaine got tired of losing in backgammon and went to her sewing, which was a complicated piece depicting hummingbirds and heather. Kellington wasn't much of a sewer, but she could play the dulcimer beautifully. It lay in its own case against the wall and she pulled it out, tuning it, before she started to play.

By noon of the next day, Kellington was growing exceedingly restless. They had not eaten since the previous night, when Matilda had escaped to the kitchens and returned with a meal. Setting the dulcimer aside, she decided to sneak to the kitchens to procure them some food. This brought protests from both Lavaine and Matilda, but Kellington was almost too restless to care.

"He told you to stay to your chamber," Lavaine said pointedly. "Only by the grace of God did Matilda slip to the kitchens unnoticed. There is no knowing how the man will react if he catches you. He's a vicious killer."

"He'll not do anything," Kellington said confidently. Standing in front of her large polished bronze mirror, she leaned against the wall for support as she slipped her shoes on. "He cannot expect us to hold up here with nothing to eat."

"But he told you there were ruthless knights about," Lavaine insisted. "Those monsters who rode in yesterday still have not left. What happens if one of them discovers you?"

Kellington looked to her friend. "Nothing will happen," she said, giving her a wink. "You worry overly."

A strange glimmer came to Lavaine's eye. "Perhaps you should take a weapon with you. God would forgive you if you were forced to use it against those beasts."

Kellington would not take a dirk, not even to protect herself. Lavaine and Matilda watched as Kellington adjusted a shoe and turned to glance at herself in the mirror. It did not occur to the women to ask why Kellington was wearing one of her best gowns, a rich ruby red silk that had undertones of gold. Keats had purchased it for her on a trip to London last year. The bodice was very snug, the neckline daringly low with gold embroidery around it. The sleeves were long, tight to the elbows before loosening into a bell-shape that draped to her knees. It was a stunning gown, made even more stunning by Kellington's beauty. She wore her hair in a long braid this day, as was usual, her thick hair draping over one shoulder like a golden waterfall.

"I shall return," she assured the women. "Bolt the door after I have left."

"But…!" Lavaine protested.

Kellington patted her cheek firmly. "Bolt the door."

With that, she unlatched the door and peered into the hall. It was empty. Slipping out, she shut the door quietly behind her.

Kellington had grown up at Pelinom and knew every inch of the place. She knew there was no simple way to reach the kitchens except to pass through the great hall, so she could only hope that no one was in there. Descending the stairs to the third floor, she peered into the two rooms and saw that they were empty. It looked as if they had both been slept in, but no one was there now. Taking the larger stairs to the second floor where the great hall was, she paused half way down the flight, ears peaked, listening for any movement. It sounded empty.

There was no one in the entry and no one in the solar directly across from her. A soft breeze blew in from the west, lifting the oilcloths in the solar. She could see them waving. Hesitantly, she stayed close to the wall as she edged towards the great hall. Peeking around the corner, she could see that it, too, was empty.

With the room clear, she gathered her skirt and skipped into the hall, heading for the kitchen stairs. The cook greeted her with a yelp when she entered the kitchen, quickly understanding her mistress's mission and giving her all of the food she could carry. The cook proceeded to tell her that she had been serving food and wine most of the night and that the stores were depleting rapidly. The two serving women who usually helped her had disappeared last night and were nowhere to be found. With no one to slaughter animals, gather eggs, pluck chickens, or a thousand other tasks that would keep the kitchen stocked with food, the pantry was running dry.

Faced with yet another dilemma, Kellington could only listen and agree to do what she could. But her first course of action was to return with the food to Lavaine and Matilda, so she assured the cook she would look into the matter and fled up the stairs with her sack of provisions.

She paused at the top of the flight, making sure the room was still empty. Not a soul stirred and even the hearth was dark and cold. Emerging into the hall, she was half way across the room when the entry door suddenly slammed open and loud voices were heard. Startled, she looked for an escape but she was too far from the narrow stairs that led to the gallery above to make it without being seen. Before she realized it, several knights marched into the room, men she did not recognize. Then came the familiar faces of Amadeo and Caelen. Jax brought up the rear, his dual-colored eyes finding her in the room above all else.

She could feel the heat from his gaze from where she stood. Suddenly very self-conscious, and the least bit frightened, she did the only thing she could do; she dipped into a swift curtsy and raced right through the group as if her life depended on it.

Jax grabbed her before she could make it to the stairs. His eyes were riveted to her, though not unkind.

"What are you doing?" he asked quietly. "I told you to stay to your chamber."

Caught in his massive grip, she lifted an eyebrow at him. "I was retrieving some food. Did you expect us to starve up there?"

She said it loud enough so that those closest heard her though they pretended not to. Gradually, the men moved into the room, away from Jax and Kellington. But neither one of them noticed; they only had eyes, and attention, for each other.

"Very well," Jax nodded after a moment, drinking in the sight of her lovely face that he had not seen in a day. "Take your food and return to your chamber."

He did not seem the least bit perturbed that she had disobeyed him. In fact, he seemed rather mild about it. Kellington thought to use his mood to her advantage.

"We're bored to death up there," she lowered her voice. "And I have a good deal of work to do that is going untouched. Did you know that the kitchen stores are drastically depleted? And I only have a few days to hire enough workers to bring in the apricots and cherries that will rot on the trees if we do not pick them soon. I cannot sit idle any longer. You kept me here for a reason yet you are not allowing me to do my job."

He drew in a long, thoughtful breath. Jax rarely saw beyond his own wants or immediate orders, but at the moment, he tried. He understood her point. "You are correct, of course. But I was doing it for your own safety."

"I can take care of myself. You must at least allow me to roam freely in the keep so that I may resume my tasks."

Jax glanced over at the table where his generals were huddled. The grip on her arm loosened, moving to her elbow. "Come with me."

"Where?"

"Just come."

She allowed him to lead her over to the table. Ten of the most hardened men she had ever seen were in various positions around the scrubbed oak panel, their attention moving to her as she approached. Jax pulled her right up against the table, right into the horde of armored, weaponed men.

"This is the Lady Kellington Coleby," he was doing more than introducing her; he was pointing her out so there would be no mistake. "She is the lady of Pelinom and has free reign within this keep."

What he was really saying was that she was untouchable and anyone who so much looked in her direction would be dealt with. The generals understood, most of them giving Kellington some type of acknowledgement. A couple of them just stared at her. Uncomfortable, Kellington looked up at Jax.

"May I go now?" she asked in a whisper.

He let go of her arm. Kellington walked very quickly back across the floor, ascending the steps as if being chased. Those men had such a hardened look about them that it made her vastly uncomfortable. They looked at her with curiosity and disapproval and she did not like it one bit.

But she had his agreement to resume her duties. Taking the food to Lavaine and Matilda, she shoved bread and cheese in her mouth as she made her way back to the solar where her tallies await. She needed to figure out, based on the amount of produce to be harvest, how many men she needed to hire. After an hour or so of studying her inventory, she settled on fifty men. At a pence a day and four days to harvest, she figure out exactly what she would need to pay them and applied that to the profit they would make from the goods. Time passed quickly as she lost herself in her tasks, something she truly loved. Her father had taught her to read and write at a very young age, a skill most women did not have, and she enjoyed both immensely.

The sun was beginning to set when Jax found her hunched over the desk, carefully scratching onto the vellum with her quill. He stood there a moment, watching her, noting the way the setting sun reflected off of her golden hair. She looked like an angel. He experienced an odd tightening in his chest, though not unpleasant. In fact, it was a rather giddy feeling. He'd never sensed it before.

"You have been on that stool for hours," he said as he walked into the room. "You must indeed have a good deal of work to do."

She looked up at him, a faint smile on her lips. Jax felt his knees go weak.

"I am attempting to figure out future harvests," she said. "We will have harvests and produce through December. I am attempting to divine the future."

He stood opposite her, the desk between them, gazing down at her. The dual-colored eyes were oddly soft. She'd never seen such an expression on his face.

"My generals will be returning to Wales on the morrow," he said. "I should like for you to attend the evening meal."

She wasn't quite sure why he would want her there considering he had banished her to her chamber when the men had arrived, but she nodded. "As you wish."

He acknowledged her reply with a faint nod, his gaze moving to the parchment beneath her hands.

"What do you have to report to me?"

She, too, looked at the careful writing beneath her quill. The tips of her fingers were black from the ink and she carefully set the quill aside, wiping at her fingers with a linen cloth she kept around for just that purpose.

"Well," she began, assembling her thoughts. "We will need at least fifty men to harvest our apricots and cherries. At a pence a day, that is four pounds total in salary."

"Four pounds?" he repeated. "That seems like a lot."

"This is heavy work. We will need to pay well."

He didn't like it but agreed. "Very well," he tried to decipher her writing, upside-down. "How much wealth will we glean from this harvest?"

She shrugged. "If we find a good market, close to two pounds a bushel. At somewhere around four hundred bushels, we will make eight hundred pounds on this harvest alone."

His eyebrows lifted. "Indeed? Most profitable."

"Then you understand it is imperative to hire our workers in the next couple of days."

"We will go to town tomorrow and accomplish this."

She nodded, satisfied that he understood their situation. She thought their business to be concluded but he lingered by the desk, watching her. It wasn't uncomfortable, but it was curious.

"Was there anything else, my lord?" she asked.

"Perhaps," he said casually. By the time she looked up, he was rounding the table and pulling her into his arms. She gasped as his warm mouth clamped down on her neck.

"Jax," she breathed. "What are you doing?"

He nuzzled her neck, her shoulder. "Tasting my future wife."

She stiffened in his arms; he could feel it. His head came up, the two-colored eyes focusing on her as his mood dampened. "So you still have not warmed to the idea."

It was a statement, not a question. Kellington gazed back at him, studying the splash-pattern of bright green that filled a portion of his right iris. It was mesmerizing and she struggled to stay focused.

"I think you would tell me whatever you wish in order to gain your wants," she said frankly. "I told you that I did not want you to kiss me so you tell me that I will be your wife so that I will let you do as you please."

He cocked an eyebrow. "Is that what you think? That I am telling you what you wish to hear in order to have my way with you?"

She nodded, once. He could see by her expression that she was deadly serious. His first inclination was one of aggravation.

"God's Blood, woman, you are my captive. I can simply take what I want from you. I do not require your permission."

Her cheeks flushed. "I told you that I would not be.…"

"Your whore," he cut her off, nodding his head exaggeratedly. "I know– I've heard it a half dozen times. You talk too much. And you think too much."

She scowled. "What else am I supposed to do? You lay siege to my father's garrison, kill his men, murder children, create an army of… of corpses in the bailey, yet you expect me to put all of that aside and happily accept your proposal of marriage?"

He dropped his hands from her. Then he turned on his heel as if to march from the room. Kellington watched him stomp to the door but he suddenly stopped, turning to face her.

"I am Ajax de Velt," there was exasperation in his voice but, strangely, his tone remained moderately civil. "I have been as you see for many years. I have commanded my mighty armies for nine years and I have overrun fortress after fortress in that time. Men fear me. Kings fear me. And if God himself does not fear me yet, he should. If I could find the road to Heaven, I would lay siege to it as well." He abruptly walked towards her, wagging a big finger in her face. "I may be many things, Lady Kellington, but I am not a liar and I am not a manipulator. Those are cowardly traits and I am not a coward. If I say I am going marry you, then I am. You can take your oath upon my word for it is as solid as gold."

She looked up at him, the sheer size of the man dominating everything in the room. But she did not sense true anger from him; it was frustration, annoyance, an odd sense of desperation. But in that outburst, she began to realize just how sincere he was.

Slowly, she shook her head. "I cannot marry you. My father would never allow it."

His eyebrows lifted. "The man is my prisoner."

"So you would kill him if he does not agree?" her voice lifted in outrage. "Are you mad?"

"I did not mean that. I simply meant… hell, I do not know what I meant. What will it take to convince you that my intentions are real?"

She stared at him, understanding that Jax was asking to prove himself. He was demanding to validate his intentions. She was startled at the very least, hardly comprehending that he was bargaining for the consent of her hand in marriage. She began to see a way out of their predicament, even if it meant sacrificing her future in the process. Perhaps she could save what was left of Pelinom, and her father, with de Velt so vulnerable. She had to try.

"Release my father," she said, watching the expression on his face as she spoke. "Bring him back to Pelinom and restore him to his post. And for the love of God, allow us to bury the army of dead you have posted in the bailey."

He listened to her conditions, digested them. "If that is what it takes to convince you that my intentions are sincere, then so be it," he said quietly. "I will bring your father back to Pelinom, but in order to return him to his post, he must swear fealty to me."

Her blood ran cold. "He'll never do that."

"Then I cannot release him."

"But you said you would."

"I said I would if he swore allegiance to me."

She eyed him, watching the gravity of his expression, his body language as his massive fists rested upon his slender hips. The mood of the room was changing, turning deeply serious. He wanted something. If he wanted it badly enough, then she wanted something from him, too.

"You could simply marry me against my will, you know," she said. "As you have made clear, I am your captive. You need not ask my permission. You need not bargain with me at all. Why are you so willing to negotiate?"

"Because I want your agreement. I do not want an unwilling bride."

Her gaze lingered on him a moment longer before she finally shook her head, turning away from him and regaining her stool. It was obvious that she was mulling over everything. She toyed with the parchment, finally looking up at him as he moved to the other side of the desk.

"I cannot believe we are having this conversation," she said with genuine confusion. "Two weeks ago you conquered my father's garrison. You murdered men, women and children without conscience, yet now you show a side to your character that displays sensitivity and vulnerability. And you are willing to negotiate a marriage contract? Since when does Jax de Velt negotiate anything?"

He averted his gaze, the dual-toned eyes moving over the parchment, the table, the floor, and finally to the lancet window near the desk. He wandered to the window, looking out to the bailey below.

"I cannot answer that," he said quietly. "All I know is that I do not want to command you to comply, yet I want it so badly that I can taste it. I cannot think of anything in my life that I have ever wanted more than you."

She was stunned by the statement; he had not said it lightly and she did not take it lightly. She could therefore only think of one thing to say.

"Why?"

He snorted ironically, turning to look at her. "As I said, I cannot answer that question. All I know is that you have been something different to me since the day I met you. I see such beauty and peace and courage in you, things that are not a part of my world. You are a corner of heaven that I never knew existed."

Without meaning to, he had said something innately sweet. Kellington felt her heart soften just the slightest, but not entirely. The fact remained that Jax was a violent man. There was much blood on his hands.

"And I come from a world where all I have known is peace and tranquility," she said softly. "What you did to Pelinom… Jax, you destroyed my heaven. You murdered my friends, my father's vassals… you destroyed everything. How can I spend my life with a man who destroyed everything that was dear and wonderful to me?"

He came away from the window, emitting a heavy sigh. Crossing his enormous arms, he paced the floor thoughtfully. "It has always been this way with me. There is nothing else."

"But there is in my world. If we marry, and I am not saying that I agree, then you will become a part of my world. I do not want to be a part of yours. It is bloody and horrifying and deadly. I do not want to live like that."

He looked at her, then. "But this is who I am. You will have to accept it."

"I will not. I cannot live in Hell as you do."

He fell silent. Somehow his pacing ended up at the desk and he reached out, taking her hands within his massive mitts. He studied her small fingers, inspected the nails, running his calloused fingers over her skin simply to feel the texture. Then he held them tightly.

"I have ambitions," he told her, his voice soft and hoarse. "I know of one way to achieve them. I will not give up my goals, even for you."

"I never asked you to."

She was right, but he still looked at her as if her statement had startled him. Hurt him, even. After a moment, he brought her hands to his lips.

"Is there nothing I can say to gain your agreement?"

She felt his lips against her flesh like firebrands. The man had a way of making her forget everything, of sucking her thoughts from her brain until she was limp and irrational. Impulsively, she put a hand on his cheek, the first time she had ever voluntarily touched him. He closed his eyes tightly at the warm, soft sensation against his flesh.

"I have heard that you are a man without mercy and it would be easy to believe that were I to give credit to the rumors of your cruelty," she repeated the words she had said to him those weeks ago and his eyes opened, looking at her with surprise. She smiled at his wonder. "But I believe there is mercy in every man, my lord, even you. I believe there is good in you, too. It is to that good man I would agree to marriage. But to the other man, I would have to refuse."

His oddly-colored eyes glimmered. "What does that mean?"

She shook her head. "I do not know. All I know is that your proposal has me torn."

He sighed yet again, unsure what more to say. He kissed her hands, her wrists, before pulling her into a crushing embrace and slanting a fiery kiss over her soft lips. This time, Kellington did not resist. She welcomed it.

When he pulled back, it was to look her in the eye. "Would it truly change your mind if I returned your father to Pelinom?"

She studied his face, deeply acquainting herself with the human side of Jax de Velt. Until the past few moments, she hadn't truly known that it existed. He was a war machine, a murderer, the most feared knight in the land. But she saw the vulnerability, the gentle qualities that all men possessed but that he kept tightly bottled up. It was an extraordinary show of unbridled weakness and she knew it.

"Return him home and bury our men," she whispered. "But it is more than just that. You must ask my father's permission."

He raised a dark eyebrow. "He will never give it."

"If you attempt to right your wrongs, he might. He is not an unreasonable man."

"I am not accustomed to asking forgiveness, lady."

"It is not asking forgiveness. It is making amends."

He let her go, gently, his mind sorting through the alien thoughts he was considering. Kellington stood next to her father's old desk, watching Jax mull over their conversation. She went to him, wrapping her small, warm hands around his massive fist. Surprised that she should make a move to touch him, he looked down into her lovely face, feeling himself go weak all over again. God, what he wouldn't do when that woman looked at him.

"Please, Jax," she whispered. "Bury our men and return my father home. It would be a good start."

He was folding. He could feel it. "If that is your wish."

"It is."

She smiled, a lovely gesture that came from the heart. "Thank you."