Chapter One

Gomorrah

Mushrooms,he’d said.

One of the men who managed Gomorrah for the Earls of Camberwell had given her a crystal dish containing what looked like dirt, but it wasn’t dirt. It was dried mushrooms from the mysterious east.

She’d been seeing colors in the darkness for the past hour.

Colors bounced off the oiled-up skin of the man dancing for her. He was small and muscular, shaved, and quite beautiful. He only had a small piece of cloth around his privates to protect his modesty, but even so, she could see the bulge he had. She’d been to Gomorrah several times and never bedded a man, mostly because she didn’t want to catch bugs or a disease they might have gotten from other patrons who were not so clean. Truth be told, the only man who had ever bedded her had been her husband, but the last time had been years ago. She couldn’t remember when. The closest she came to a naked man was the one slowly gyrating in front of her.

And he was glorious.

She took another drink.

The wine with the mushrooms had made her head spin a little, so she lay back upon a silk-cushioned couch and waited for the mushrooms to wear off. They were mostly gone anyway. She was in a private room deep in the bowels of Gomorrah, a room that was sectioned off by curtains from the rest of the guild. It was full tonight, as it usually was, and there was music and laughter all around. She was on the level called Sins of the Flesh, as all four levels of Gomorrah had names, and on this level, men or women could live out their deepest sexual fantasies. In the chamber next to her, she could hear a woman groaning as one of the male dancers pleasured her.

To each her own.

To the tune of a man in the corner of the chamber playing a wooden flute, the oiled-skin man dancing for her abruptly lost his modesty panel. A flaccid manhood several inches long now hung proudly and she lifted her eyebrows at the sight, impressed that such a small man could have such a large male organ. Her gaze lingered on it a moment as she wondered what such a sizable manroot would feel like, when the dancer began thrusting his hips at her, moving his hand to stroke his member. When she looked up at him, surprised, he was grinning lewdly at her and licking his lips.

She frowned and shook her head.

The dancer was crushed.

The flute kept playing as the dancer rushed out of the chamber and she could hear a commotion outside. The dancer might have even been weeping. Shortly, the same man who had offered her the mushrooms entered.

“Lady de Tosni?” he said politely. “Forgive me, my lady, but was Dax not to your liking?”

Lady Caledonia de Wylde de Tosni shifted on her cushioned pillows. “Who is Dax?”

“The man entertaining you, my lady. Was he not to your liking?”

With a heavy sigh, Caledonia sat up. “Eros,” she said. “Have you ever known me to take a lover while I am here?”

Eros wasn’t his real name, but no one went by their real names at Gomorrah. He shook his head. “Nay, my lady,” he said. “But I thought—with the right bit of flesh dangled in front of you—mayhap you would change your mind.”

“I will not change my mind.”

Eros didn’t really understand that attitude because everyone came to Gomorrah for pleasure. Those who refused it were oddities. “You know that our dancers and musicians make their money from your generous gratuities, my lady,” he said with some concern. “Dax has been dancing for you for two hours. He must make his living.”

Caledonia frowned. “Since when I have I not been generous with those serving me?” she said. “Send Dax back in here and tell him I will compensate him. He needn’t worry.”

Eros nodded. “Very well, my lady,” he said. “Thank you. But… but you do find him attractive, don’t you?”

“He is glorious.”

“But not glorious enough to bed.”

“Not by me. I do not need any unexpected consequences, including a child or a disease. No offense to Dax.”

With a shrug to the odd lady who happened to be a regular customer, Eros headed out of the chamber while Dax quickly returned. He was completely covered up from the waist to his upper thighs now, hiding that skin snake he’d tried to seduce her with. If she wasn’t going to bite, he wasn’t going to flaunt it. She was banned from the privilege.

It was all Caledonia could do to keep from laughing.

Dax continued his gyrations as Caledonia lay back against the cushions again, drinking the sweet red wine and watching the roll of his muscles beneath his oiled skin. But after two hours of the show, and Dax’s little tantrum, she produced a few coins for him and sent him away. A quick discussion with Eros had two dancing women enter her private chamber, and they began to dance to the strains of the wooden flute. It was a beautiful, fluid dance. Caledonia had two left feet when it came to dancing, so she appreciated women who could move so gracefully.

“Lady Callie!” A woman dressed in fine silks poked her head into the chamber. “I heard you were here. Back again, my darling?”

Caledonia recognized the woman who was in charge of all of the other women at Gomorrah and sat up again, smiling.

“Lady Lupa,” she said. “A pleasure to see you.”

Lady Lupa was an older woman with a Germanic accent and a big gray streak in her upturned hair. She entered the chamber and came to sit beside Caledonia, who took her hand and squeezed it in greeting. Lady Lupa looked like someone’s grandmother, but she was much more than that. Savvy, astute, and attuned to business, she managed Gomorrah possibly more than Eros did. She also carried an arsenal of daggers on her belt. If any of the customers veered out of control, Lady Lupa was ready to defend her girls, as she’d done many times before.

Caledonia had a healthy respect for the woman.

“Enjoying Lady Feather and Lady River, I see,” Lady Lupa said. All of the female entertainers at Gomorrah were addressed as “lady” followed by a pseudonym. “Two of our finest dancers. You like them?”

Caledonia nodded. “I’m very envious of the way they dance,” she said. “I never could dance well. I find it so artistic the way they move.”

Lady Lupa smiled, watching Lady Feather and Lady River move gracefully. “They enjoy dancing for you because you appreciate it,” she said. “You are not like the men, who only watch them to become aroused. You watch them because of the sheer beauty of the dance.”

Caledonia nodded, watching the ladies bend over backward in the course of their dance. “There is something ancient and timeless about it,” she said. “I see ancient Roman women dancing when I look at them. I see women before time began, hearing the first strains of primordial music and feeling their bodies sway to it.”

Lady Lupa looked at her. “You are a philosopher, my lady.”

Caledonia chuckled. “Not really,” she said. “My father always called me a deep thinker. I suppose that means my mind wanders more than most.”

“He meant you are brilliant.”

“Coming from Rhun de Wylde, I do not think so.”

“That is your father?”

“Was.”

“How long has he been gone?”

Caledonia cocked her head thoughtfully. “Twelve years now,” she said. “But he would surely not approve of my coming to Gomorrah, so mayhap it is for the best.”

The smile faded from Lady Lupa’s face. “You are not our usual customer,” she admitted. “But you have been coming to us for a few years now.”

Caledonia nodded faintly. “A few, indeed.”

Lady Lupa’s gaze lingered on her. Lady Caledonia was something of a mystery to those who managed Gomorrah because, as Lady Lupa had said, she wasn’t the usual customer. To begin with, the woman was astonishingly beautiful, clean, and healthy. She had hair so blonde that it was white, with a sweet oval face and enormous, dark eyes with a slight tilt to them. A pert nose and generous lips rounded out the glowing beauty, a highly intelligent woman who never came to Gomorrah for the usual reasons. She didn’t gamble and she’d never once paid for the sexual services of any number of men at Gomorrah who would have gladly taken the task.

But she did come to drink.

Lady Caledonia could put away more wine than a man at times. She drank, she closed herself up with burning hemp at times, and she would try anything intoxicating. Today, it happened to be mushrooms that gave one a euphoria. Lady Lupa had heard about it. She also came to watch the dancers, male and female, and she came to listen to the fine musicians Gomorrah had. On occasion, they even had plays or poetry recitations, and she came for that as well. She came for anything entertaining or thought-provoking, anything that opened her already open mind. But it seemed to Lady Lupa that Lady Caledonia was a very lonely woman, in search of something she couldn’t yet find.

To satisfy something within herself that needed contentment.

Lady Lupa knew that Lady Caledonia had been married for several years to a man who was much older than she was. He’d died of an illness, and Lady Caledonia spoke of her dead husband without emotion. They’d had three daughters, three young girls who, even now, remained at home while their mother prowled the caverns of Gomorrah. Lady Caledonia wouldn’t talk about her daughters very much, but when she did, she drank. There was something painful there when she spoke of her children.

All part of the great mystery that was Caledonia de Wylde de Tosni.

“And I hope you continue to come to us for many more years,” Lady Lupa said. She was still holding Caledonia’s hand, so she gave it a pat and let it go. “If there is anything more you require, I hope you will tell me.”

Caledonia lay back on her pillows. “I will,” she said. “I am a little hungry. Could you have someone bring me some food?”

Lady Lupa headed for the door. “I will serve you myself,” she said. “We have a wonderful new cook from Athens. He makes a cake with layers of dough and nuts and honey. I will bring you some.”

“Sounds delicious,” Caledonia said. “And anything with chicken. I do like chicken.”

Lady Lupa nodded and rushed out, leaving Caledonia resting back against the cushions. With the wine and music and dancing, it was inevitable that she ended up dozing off. It was dreamy and soothing with the flute music in the background, and as Caledonia drifted in and out, she began to hear something that didn’t sound quite normal.

She began to hear screaming.

Yelling was more like it. Things were crashing and there was shouting going on. It sounded like a battle. Startled, she sat up as the flute player stopped and the two dancers came to a halt. Concerned, she looked at the flute player, who seemed frozen, and then to the dancers, who were clearly terrified. More crashing, more shouting, and Caledonia began looking around for a weapon. The closest she came to was a big iron rod used to stir the embers in the brass brazier in the corner of the chamber.

Drunk, and still a little tipsy on mushrooms, she wielded it like a club.

Admonishing the dancers and the musician to remain in the room, she ventured out. The ceilings were low down here, with a passageway that ran from the main stairs, from one end of Gomorrah to the other. There were many smaller chambers on this level and people were beginning to emerge, hearing the same noise that she was. The woman in the chamber next to her was still being pleasured, and Caledonia could hear the woman moaning as if nothing else was going on around them.

She found that rather comical.

But she banged her iron poker on the wall to stop whatever was going on in there, to alert them to the fact that there was trouble. Since her chamber was nearly at the bottom of the stairs, whatever trouble that was overhead would spill down here eventually.

She would be ready for them.

Rushing toward the stairs, she pressed herself up against the wall that was right where the stairs met with the corridor. Anyone coming down the stairs wouldn’t see her, and that was exactly what she wanted. Since the stairs were dark and narrow, she would have the advantage. Waiting and listening, she could hear someone barking orders while more people shrieked. Something thumped.

Then they were coming down the stairs.

Lifting her iron rod, Caledonia waited until the first heavily armed knight hit the bottom stair and stepped out into the corridor.

Whack!

She brained the man right on the head and he fell to his knees, pitching forward onto his hands. But she hadn’t knocked him out, so she swung again, knocking him to the ground as another knight came down the stairs. Seeing yet another heavily armed man, she began swinging the rod at the man’s head and shoulders, but he easily grabbed it. Terrified, she lashed out a foot and kicked the knight as hard as she could in the groin.

He teetered sideways.

By now, people from the other chambers had filtered out into the corridor, seeing the armed knights trying to make their way in and a small woman with long white hair beating them. Gomorrah had guards of its own, and as Caledonia darted away from the knight she’d kicked in the groin, a couple of the big, burly guards came flying down the stairs, crashing into the men at the bottom. More men came crashing down after them and there was a brawl at the bottom of the stairs.

By this time, Caledonia rushed back to her room where the two dancing girls and the musician were huddling fearfully. She focused on the women.

“Is there another way to leave this place?” she asked. “A rear door that no one knows about?”

The women nodded. “In the Sulfur Pit,” Lady Feather said. “There is a small staircase that leads to a door. If there was ever a fire, we are told to go to that door.”

“Then we must go,” Caledonia said quickly, grabbing the silk blanket she’d been lying on because both women were very thinly dressed. “Here—cover yourselves. We must hurry to that door.”

The women took the blanket, rushing from the room as the musician and Caledonia followed. She made sure to grab her purse and her cloak, both of which had been lying on the cushioned couch, and tore after the women.

It was dark and chaotic. People were running in all directions. Caledonia could hear screaming and noise behind her and the sound of running feet. That was everywhere, echoing off the stone walls. She followed the women and the musician down some wooden steps to the Sulfur Pit level below. This was the bottom of the guild, the bottom of what had once been a Roman temple. There was a big stone floor down here and stone columns that held up the floor above it. There was also a mosaic on one side of it indicating flowers and wine and birds. Down here was where the most debaucherous things happened, and instead of chambers, there were simply curtains strung up.

But the stone floor and heavy ceiling also kept the sounds of the raid at a distance. Things were happening down here as normal, and as Caledonia rushed by, curtains blew open and she saw a man with three women pleasuring him in every hole in his body. The next curtained section had a man being whipped across his buttocks while a woman had her mouth on his male member.

There were other things going on but she didn’t take note. She simply told everyone to stop what they were doing and run. She could see the women and the musician on ahead and a small wooden staircase that led up the side of a wall and disappeared above. People were disappearing up those stairs and Caledonia wanted to disappear up them also, but a young woman tripped and fell in front of her and she was forced to stop running and help the woman to her feet.

That delay was going to cost her.

“You!” someone boomed.

A loud and deep voice echoed off the walls, loud enough to startle Caledonia. She jumped at the sound, instinctively turning around to see two enormous knights a few feet behind her.

Self-preservation kicked in.

She pushed the woman she’d just helped toward the stairs, hissing encouragement to flee, but she didn’t try to run after her. She had a feeling she wouldn’t make it to the stairs.

“What do you want?” she demanded. “These people have done nothing wrong. They have nothing of value for you.”

The knight advanced on her. “What is your name?”

“Why?”

“Are you Caledonia de Tosni?”

That should have made her turn and run away as fast as she could, but she could only manage great confusion.

“Who are you?” she demanded. “Why do you want to know?”

The knight kept coming. “Henry has sent me,” he said. “Are you Lady de Tosni?”

Henry. She was certain he didn’t mean anyone other than the king, because she and Henry had a difficult history together, but that didn’t abate her confusion. And she certainly didn’t want to give this knight her identity.

“I do not understand,” she said. “Why would you even ask me such a question?”

The knight finally came to a halt and looked at her. “Because I was told Caledonia de Wylde de Tosni was being held against her will in this place,” he said. Then he flipped up his three-point visor to get a better look at her. “I was told to find a lady with white hair, and you have white hair. Are you Lady de Tosni? I require an answer.”

She stared at him a moment before looking at the man behind him, hearing screams and commotion in the distance. It was dark on this level and so difficult to see, but she could see people trying to escape in the other direction. But the knight’s words were sinking in and her gaze returned to him.

“I am not being held against my will,” she said. “Did the king tell you that?”

The knight nodded. “He did,” he said. “If you do not tell me that you are Lady de Tosni, I am going to assume that you are and take you with me. If you are not the lady I seek, I would suggest you tell me now.”

Even in the dim light, Caledonia could see that he had the brightest blue eyes she’d ever seen. “I am not the lady you seek,” she said.

“What is your name?”

“It is no concern of yours.”

Before he could reply, a body flew between them, screeching and flashing a dagger. Lady Lupa crashed into Caledonia and nearly sent her onto her bum.

“Do not fear, Lady de Tosni!” she cried, wielding a wicked-looking dagger against the knight. “I will protect you. Run! Follow the others and run!”

Caledonia rolled her eyes as her cover was unknowingly blown. Before she could take another breath, the knight was shoving Lady Lupa out of the way and Caledonia ended up over one of his broad shoulders.

He was heading for the exit.

But Caledonia wasn’t going to give up without a fight. She began to twist and kick, managing to squirm off his shoulder enough to ram a finger into his right eye. He staggered but didn’t let her go, now helped along by four knights. Caledonia recognized two of them as one she’d brained and one she’d kicked in the groin. She hadn’t struck hard enough to keep them down, and the quintet of heavily armed knights hauled her up the rickety wooden stairs to the secret exit that so many people were now aware of.

“Put me down!” Caledonia demanded, kicking one of the knights in the head when he came over to help subdue her. “Put me down or I swear I will kill you all!”

The knight who held her was blinking his right eye furiously, the one she’d jabbed a finger into. “Lady, I was sent to save you, and save you I shall,” he said. “I do not know why you are resisting my efforts, but that ends now.”

That only seemed to inflame Caledonia, who threw herself sideways and ended up falling onto the ground. He still had her by the hair, however, and he easily picked her up and swung her back over his shoulder. When she began to howl and push at him again, he spanked her.

Hard.

Caledonia gasped at the sting of his swat.

“You brute,” she spat, now trying throw herself off his shoulder, grabbing what mail she could get a hold of on his back to use as leverage. “How dare you strike me! I will have your head for that!”

She could hear him sigh heavily. “Lady, your threats bore me,” he said. “If you had not lied to me, you would not have been removed by force. You chose a path to violence.”

She had lied to him, but she certainly hadn’t chosen this path. This was all his doing. Using his shoulder to brace herself, she tried to ram her knee into his face. He swatted her again and, suddenly, two knights had hold of her. One had her legs and her abductor had her torso. When Caledonia realized that she was effectively corralled, she fought for another minute before finally surrendering.

“Aye, I lied to you,” she said. “What was I supposed to do? Five knights break into Gomorrah and tear the place apart and I’m supposed to give you my name? Of course I’m not going to tell you. I had to protect myself, didn’t I?”

A big knight was walking beside her as two of them carried her.

“You have every right to protect yourself, my lady,” he said. “My name is Daniel de Lohr. I am the Earl of Canterbury. Do you know my name?”

Caledonia turned to look at the man, whom she couldn’t see through his lowered faceplate. “I know your name, my lord,” she said. “I know who you are. I am shocked that you are part of this… this raid.”

Daniel held up a hand and everyone came to a halt. They were on a small street, a residential area, and there were very few people around. He quietly instructed the men carrying her to put her on her feet, and they immediately did. Offended and shaken, Caledonia straightened out her expensive silk surcoat and smoothed her hair, glaring at the men around her before finally coming to rest on Daniel.

She had a particular glare for him.

“Now,” she said. “Let us come to an understanding, once and for all. I am Caledonia de Tosni and I fully resent being treated like a common criminal. I’ve done nothing wrong in the least.”

Daniel unlatched his helm, removing it to reveal a handsome older man with blond hair, graying at the temples. “Nay, you’ve done nothing wrong,” he said. “But we have been sent from Henry and we are under orders to return you to him immediately. By force, if necessary. And you made it necessary.”

Caledonia’s eyes narrowed. “You never gave me a choice,” she said. “One moment I was standing there, and in the next your hired beast carried me out. That was not fair.”

“Mayhap not,” Daniel said. “But it would have gone much smoother had you not lied to us. Henry wants you, Lady de Tosni, enough to send us to Gomorrah on a pretext, so you may as well accept that we are returning to Westminster.”

Caledonia didn’t like that at all. “God,” she grumbled, shaking her head in disgust. “Do you know why he wants to see me? Do you have any idea?”

“Do you?”

Her arched eyebrows shot up. “Of course I do!” she said. “From the missives to the messengers to the courtiers who have come to beat down my door, of course I know what he wants. He was as persistent as a gnat when I was at Stafford Castle, so I fled to London so he could not find me, but he did. He knows I am at Stafford House and has ordered my servants to tell him where I go, which is how he knew I was at Gomorrah. He will not leave me alone!”

She was both angry and frustrated, her cheeks turning shades of red as she spoke. But it was also clear that she was drunk because her movements, and emotions, were exaggerated. She was bloody well furious and didn’t care who knew it, not even the very powerful Earl of Canterbury. Truth be told, it frightened her to realize that the king had sent such an important man after her.

That told her that the man meant business.

“Let me counter your statement by asking you a question,” Daniel said evenly. “May I?”

Caledonia lifted her hand and let it fall back and slap her thigh dramatically. “Ask,” she said dryly. “I cannot stop you, so ask.”

She couldn’t have possibly known how much he felt like grinning but wisely kept a straight face. “You are the Countess of Tamworth and Stafford, are you not?” he asked.

Caledonia nodded as if everyone knew that. “Of course I am,” she said. “Is that your question?”

“Nay,” Daniel said. “Tamworth is an old and prestigious earldom, not to mention the added responsibility of Stafford. Since you no longer have a husband, the king has taken it upon himself to ensure your health and safety. He would be a poor king indeed if he did not.”

She looked at him as if he’d just said something outrageous. “Is that what you think?” she said. “That he is seeing to my health and safety?”

“Isn’t he?”

“He is not,” she said flatly. “Do you know what Henry wants, my lord? He wants to marry me to some fool of his choosing so that Tamworth will be managed for the glory of the Crown. Stafford belongs to my eldest daughter when she marries, but Tamworth is mine. I am the heiress. Me and all of my glorious money and property will go to some idiot that the king has chosen and I will have to marry him. Henry has told me that he has already selected someone. Did you know that? Some man I know nothing about will become my husband and manage the earldom. Well, I do not want a husband. I do not need a husband. I am doing quite well on my own.”

Daniel had to put a hand over his mouth so she wouldn’t see him smile. “My lady, it seems to me that you are quite capable of managing the property,” he said, sounding oddly strained because he was trying not to burst out laughing. “But what about the army? Tamworth has an enormous army, not to mention the army that Stafford has. Do you truly wish to manage two armies on your own?”

She frowned. “I have knights for that,” she said. “My husband has three knights who see to Stafford, and my father’s knight has managed Tamworth quite well since his death.”

“I see,” Daniel said. “But what about you? Do you wish to be alone forever?”

She shrugged flippantly. “It would suit me just fine.”

“And Tamworth?” Daniel persisted. “What if you die without a son to carry on the Tamworth earldom?”

“What about it?”

“It will revert to the Crown.”

“Henry wants it as it is. That is why he is trying to force me to marry his trained dog.”

A guffaw bubbled up and Daniel ended up coughing to cover it up. He didn’t dare look at Thor, who was hearing all of this. But none of her insults or reasoning was going to make any difference where Henry was concerned. Daniel was going to have to take her to the king regardless of how she felt.

“I would suggest you meet the man you are to marry before you decide he is a fool, and idiot, and a trained dog,” Daniel said quietly. “I am sure the king would only choose the finest man for your husband.”

She shook her head. “He chose the man who fell at his feet more than any other,” she said unhappily. “I know how marriages are made, my lord. I am not a fool. My marriage to Robert de Tosni was a perfect example of that. My father forced me into that marriage when I was only fifteen years of age because Robert’s first wife could not produce a son. Did you know that? Then I had three daughters and he blamed me for only bearing female children. As if I could control such a thing.”

“I am sure he did not mean it, but desperate men behave irrationally sometimes.”

She snorted. “Is that what you call it?” she muttered. “Fine. He was desperate, then. Just like my father was when he married me to him because my older brother, who was set to inherit everything, died of a fever. I was living a life with very few expectations upon me when Constantine decided to let himself die. And that threw me into the maelstrom, my lord. And here I am, waiting to be married to yet another man who will inherit all that is mine. Well, I hope he chokes on it. And I hope he takes my money, goes away, and leaves me alone.”

Daniel’s gaze lingered on her. “Is that what you want, my lady?” he said. “Truly? To be left alone?”

She pointed back in the direction of Gomorrah. “I want to go back where I came from and enjoy the rest of my evening,” she said. “But something tells me that is not going to happen.”

“You would be correct.”

At that point, Caledonia felt as if all of the fight had gone out of her. Her adrenaline rush from Gomorrah was gone now, replaced by a woozy feeling caused by too much drink and those damnable mushrooms. At least the knights weren’t dragging her around any longer, but her destination was clear—she was going to Westminster.

She knew why.

“You are taking me to my new husband, aren’t you?” she asked quietly. “Henry wishes to introduce us.”

Daniel didn’t hesitate. “Aye.”

She drew in a long, deep breath, one that signified resignation. “Do you know him, my lord?” she asked. “You have met him?”

“I have.”

She looked at him with both surprise and curiosity. “Who is it?”

“A worthy man.”

“And you know him?” she pressed. “Personally, I mean?”

“I do.”

“But you will not tell me who it is?”

“That is Henry’s privilege, don’t you think?”

She sighed again, looking away. “I suppose,” she said. “Can you at least tell me how old he is? What he looks like?”

Daniel did look at Thor then. The man’s faceplate was still up and Daniel could see his eyes, nose, and upper lip. When their eyes met, silent words passed between them—Daniel seemed to be asking for permission to tell her that her betrothed was right in their midst. It really wasn’t up to Thor. It was up to Henry. But it might make things easier all around if the lady and her betrothed were introduced to one another without the king’s overbearing presence, in a room full of judgmental men.

Daniel’s focus returned to Caledonia.

“On that corner is a tavern called the Wren and the Willow,” he said, pointing to something behind her. “It is right on the corner. Do you see it?”

Caledonia turned around, spying the tavern immediately. “I do,” she said. “I know it well.”

Daniel didn’t doubt that for a moment. “If you give me your word of honor that you will not run from me, I will send you over to that tavern, where you will sit alone at a table,” Daniel said. “I will bring your betrothed to you and you can meet one another before you see Henry. That way, you can decide for yourself what kind of man you are to marry. If he is a fool, an idiot, or a trained dog. Or none of those. He might be someone you appreciate. Would you be agreeable to such a meeting?”

Caledonia looked at him in shock. “You will bring him to me?”

“I will.”

She turned her gaze to the tavern again, pondering his question, before finally answering. “Give me some money and I will go,” she said. “When you wrested me from Gomorrah, I left my purse behind. I require coin.”

Daniel dug into the purse at his waist and produced a handful of silver coins for her. As he put them into her palm, he looked her in the eye.

“Deviate from your agreement and I will hunt you down,” he growled. “When I find you, it will not be pleasant. My trust is given only once. If you violate it, there will not be another chance.”

Caledonia stiffened, preparing a retort, but she ended up simply nodding. Without another word, she headed over to the Wren and the Willow as Daniel and the other four knights watched her go. Once she disappeared into the tavern, Daniel turned to Thor.

“Go,” he said. “See if you can convince her that you are not a fool or an idiot.”

Thor lifted a wry eyebrow. “Or a trained dog.”

Daniel couldn’t help it. He burst into soft laughter as the knight standing to Thor’s right slapped him on the shoulder.

“You kept your composure, old man.” Clayne le Becque, Thor’s cousin, was grinning. “I was waiting for you to lay your hand on her backside. You showed more control that I would have.”

Thor looked at the man he’d grown up with. He looked very much like his father—shorter, but powerfully built with huge shoulders and arms. It was all he could do not to roll his eyes.

“Trust me when I tell you that physical violence crossed my mind more than once,” he said. “I have no idea why I showed such restraint.”

“Because neither you nor the lady can refuse Henry, so it would be futile to start off a relationship by beating her,” Daniel said. “I do not think she has had an easy time of it.”

Thor looked at him in disbelief. “What about me?” he said. “She tried to beat me quite thoroughly when I took her from Gomorrah. The lady tried to gouge my eye out.”

Daniel’s eyes glimmered with mirth. “I will tell you what was told to me, once, when I met my wife,” he said. “This marriage will be what you make of it. If you treat her with a lack of respect and indifference, then you’ve already set the tone for failure. And Thor de Reyne does not fail, not at anything. Especially not at a marriage that will see him assume the Earldom of Tamworth.”

Those were wise words but Thor wasn’t convinced. “She is already set against it,” he said. “It will be difficult to combat that.”

“Then combat it with kindness,” Daniel said. “Show her the worth of the man she is to marry. Change her mind.”

The last three words were stressed. Thor still didn’t think it was that easy, but he didn’t argue because Daniel was right about one thing—neither of them had any choice, so unless he wanted to be in a miserable marriage for the rest of his life, he was going to have to make some kind of effort.

But he wondered if the lady would as well.

He would soon find out.