Chapter Five

After waiting outside of the garderobe for about fifteen minutes before he was impolite enough to check on the lady, Thor really wasn’t surprised to find her missing. Windows were open and she was gone. He was simply angry at himself that he’d let her trick him.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out where she had gone.

Henry was nowhere to be found when he charged back into the hall, so he informed the nearest servant that he was going to retrieve Lady de Tosni. In fact, no one seemed to be in the hall, his father included, so he headed out to collect his horse, which had been returned to Westminster by Daniel when Thor had gone to the tavern with the lady after the chaos at Gomorrah. But now, Gomorrah was once again Thor’s target as he headed out of the stable, only to be stopped by his men, who had seen him from the palace where they’d been waiting for his meeting with Henry to end. After a brief explanation as to where he was going and why, Clayne, Truett, and Darius were more than ready to return to Gomorrah with him.

While Thor’s men collected their horses, Thor went to the gatehouse to question the guards about letting a woman with white hair slip through. The main gates to Westminster weren’t normally kept closed because of the administrative offices at the palace, so it wouldn’t have been difficult for a solitary woman to leave. No one was stopped going out, only coming in. The guards remembered her but there hadn’t been anything remarkable about her other than someone mentioning that the woman was flushed, as if she’d been running.

Not running so much as escaping.

That only made Thor angrier.

His men joined him at the gatehouse shortly and the group of them thundered into London, through the Ludgate entrance and on to the eastern side of the city where Gomorrah lay buried beneath the ruins of an old church. Rather than beat the door down like they did before, Thor was subtler this time.

He went in through the secretive secondary entrance.

As he’d hoped, they’d not barred the door after the initial breach earlier in the day. Perhaps they hadn’t realized it, or perhaps they didn’t care, but in either case, Thor and his men descended into the depths of the guild, down where it was dark and dank and smelled of rot. They could hear people talking in the distance and even some musicians striking up a tune, but no one stopped them as they came in the back way. It was quite a contrast to the resistance they’d encountered earlier in the day, and Thor had his men split up and hunt for the white-haired lady. No punching or kicking or fighting this time. They were moving in stealth, in the shadows. He had no idea where the guards were, the ones they’d encountered the first time, but he didn’t hunt for them.

He was hunting for something else.

Someone else.

In truth, the lady wasn’t difficult to find. She was on the next level down, sitting at a table with drinks spread out before her and deep in conversation with an older woman. Several feet away, couples danced to the strains of a citole. Thor sat down across the table from her but it was a full minute before she even took notice of him.

Any hint of pleasantness vanished. Her eyes widened and the battle lines were immediately drawn as she picked up the nearest weapon, which happened to be a dull knife used for butter.

“I am not going back,” she declared. “I do not care how many men you’ve brought with you this time. I will not go back, and if you try to force me, I’ll give you more of a fight than you expect.”

Thor didn’t move a muscle. He simply watched her face as she spoke. Truly, she had quite a face. Her lips curved in a most alluring way and her pert nose had an arrogant tilt to it. But the defiance in her voice was undercut by something else. He thought it was fear.

She’s afraid,he thought.

Fear and desperation.

He could smell it in everything about her.

“Is that why you ran?” he asked. “Because you are afraid?”

Her brow twitched in confusion. “Afraid?” she repeated. “Afraid of what? You?”

He remained cool. “You tell me,” he said. “I can see it in your face.”

“You see nothing. You do not know me.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “I know enough about you to know that you are foolish,” he said. “Only a fool would run from the king’s directive.”

That took her down a peg or two but she was still indignant. “What you call foolishness, I call self-preservation.”

“What are you preserving yourself from?”

Her gaze lingered on him. “Another miserable life,” she finally said. “I’ve already had two. I do not need a third.”

“How do you know it will be miserable?”

She didn’t have a quick answer for him. She simply turned away, eyes averted, as the older woman next to her continued to watch the situation carefully. Mostly, she was looking at Caledonia, perhaps to get a sense of what was going on and if she needed help. After several long moments, the older woman turned her gaze to Thor.

“You were here earlier,” she finally said to him. “With the knights that entered. You were with them.”

Thor glanced at her. “Mayhap,” he said, but it was all he would say. His attention, and the conversation, was on Caledonia. “My lady, what makes you think a marriage to me will be miserable? Am I not given the opportunity to prove otherwise before you condemn me?”

“You killed two of our guards,” the older woman said before Caledonia could answer. “You had no reason to do that. Why did you come here?”

Now, Thor turned his gaze on her in full. “Woman, if you do not go away and leave me to this private conversation, you will not like my reaction,” he said, his voice rumbling like thunder. “You are not part of this. Leave this table. I will only tell you once.”

The older woman’s jaw moved as if she wanted to reply but thought better of it. Sanity was in control and not a death wish. Standing up, she left the table without another word, leaving Thor alone with Caledonia. She was watching the older woman walk away.

“You did not need to be rude to her,” she said.

Thor’s gaze was fixed on her. “You will answer me,” he said. “Am I not given the opportunity to prove that you will not be miserable before you condemn me?”

Caledonia finally looked at him. “What do you want me to say that I have not already said?” she said. “You know I do not wish to marry you. I do not wish to marry anyone.”

“You do not have a choice,” Thor said. “As the heiress to Tamworth, you must marry. It is your duty.”

Her delicate jaw twitched faintly. “And you have come to force me back to Westminster.”

“If it was my intention to force you, we would already be halfway back to the palace,” he said. “It is my intention to bargain.”

That had her interest, but only slightly. “Bargain?” she repeated. “What bargain could you possibly make?”

Thor glanced at the table, at the empty cups. It gave him an idea. Clearly, the lady was unlike any woman he’d ever met. She wasn’t the sweet, delicate, obedient type. Not that all the women he knew were like that, but all of them, to varying degrees, were at least obedient. But not Caledonia—she had another level of stubbornness tucked down inside her. It was almost a mannish type of stubbornness. She had no fear and seemingly did not care what people thought of her. She was an enigma, but one he intended to crack.

Now, it was a matter of principle.

“Do you gamble, my lady?” he finally asked.

She nodded slowly. “I have been known to.”

“And if you lose, do you keep your end of the bargain and pay your debts?”

“Always.”

“Then you consider yourself a woman of honor.”

“Honor is all I have left, Blue Eyes. What is your point?”

Oh, but she was bold with the apparent nickname she had for him. Blue Eyes. She had such an unrestrained and bold way of speaking. It was in her manner. It was in everything about her, this boldness that let everyone know she was strong and sharp and more than a formidable opponent. Thor had to admit that he was appalled by a woman like that, but he was also strangely fascinated.

“My point is that we can settle this matter now,” he said. “Until this moment, I have put up a weak fight. I will admit that I am conditioned to obey the king, no matter what, and my resistance to this betrothal had been strong at first but I quickly succumbed to the inevitable. That is why you’ve not seen me put up more of a battle, my lady. I have more to lose than you do, so obedience is my only real choice. However, you do not have the same conviction. You continue to fight, but you cannot keep it up forever. Henry will win in the end if you fight alone.”

She was puzzled. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean that I can fight with you. Or not.”

A flicker of interest came to her eyes. “Explain.”

“We can wager on it,” he said. “A fair game can decide if I fight with you or against you.”

Her eyes narrowed as she realized he was approaching her on level ground, on terms she could understand. They were in a gambling guild, after all. He’d found her here, and when she escaped, she’d come back. Clearly, she was comfortable here.

He wanted to bargain, did he? If she had him on her side, the king might forget this scheme, indeed. Surely the king couldn’t force two people to marry who vehemently opposed the union. Perhaps they could put up such a fight that the king would grow weary and move on. But if he didn’t, Caledonia needed Thor on her side.

Running from him hadn’t worked.

Perhaps gambling with him would.

“Very well,” she said after a moment. “I am listening. What do you propose?”

He pointed to the cups in front of her. “That we drink together.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “Is that all?”

He shook his head. “It is not all,” he said. “We will ask the servants to bring the strongest drink they have and pour it into cups. We will each have one. You will ask me a question, any question at all, and if I answer it, you must take a drink. If I refuse, then I must take a drink. We will do this until only one of us left standing and whoever is left wins the wager. If you win, I will fight with you against this marriage.”

Caledonia was much more interested in this than anything he’d said since they’d first met. “And if you win?”

“Then we marry immediately.”

She puffed out her cheeks, blowing out a long breath as she considered his proposal. In truth, it wasn’t unfair. It was actually quite fair. It would be a decisive victory for one of them, and only because she could drink most men under the table was she considering it. He didn’t know she had a great tolerance for wine and ale.

He was playing right into her hands.

She was so confident that she could hardly keep the smile off her face.

“Very well,” she said. “I accept.”

“Good.”

“And you give me your word that you will hold up your end of the bargain?”

“You have my oath, lady. There is no stronger vow than that.”

It was evident from her expression that she believed him. Not that she had a choice, but she was willing to go on a little faith if it would get her out of this predicament. With that in mind, she turned around and shouted like a barmaid to summon a servant. Thor had never heard anything like it, this ethereal creature shouting like a common fishwife. As he fought off a grin, the older woman whom he’d chased from the table appeared and Caledonia ordered something called gorzalka. He’d never heard of it. As the older woman nodded and turned to leave, Thor stood up.

“I will see to this drink to ensure she does not put anything in it to poison me,” he said. “What is it that you have asked for?”

Caledonia watched him as he moved toward the older woman, who happened to be Lady Lupa. “It comes from far to the east,” she said. “It is the strongest drink I’ve ever known, but smooth. You do not know how strong it is until you’ve had too much and you cannot get up from the floor.”

He simply nodded, his gaze lingering on her for a moment, perhaps suspiciously, before he motioned the older woman on her way.

He followed.

Once Caledonia was left alone, she thought about running again. It was her first instinct. But she’d given her word that she’d wager with him, and if she did, she’d get him off her back forever. That was the deal. She was willing to see it through to be done with this betrothal nonsense once and for all.

Finished.

Oddly, there was a small part of her that was disappointed. Thor de Reyne was quite handsome to look at, young and enormously strong. Far more handsome than Robert had been. Thor would be a husband any woman would be proud of. But here she was, eager to get rid of him because she didn’t want to marry again. Ever. And she knew, as she lived and breathed, that it was a stupid stance.

Did she really want to be alone for the rest of her life?

That was the reality of it. She was fighting to be alone when the truth was that she was a valuable commodity as a widowed heiress. Thor said that if he won, they would marry immediately. She was certain that was out of greed to claim the title and not some misplaced desire to marry her, personally. She had nothing to do with it.

Only ambition.

He only wanted what she had.

With that lingering thought, she waited. Thor returned shortly with Lady Lupa, who was carrying a tray with a large pitcher and two cups on it. Thor indicated for the woman to set the tray down on the table between him and the lady.

“I had her pour it out of a bottle I opened myself,” he told Caledonia as he sat down. “The wine is pure enough. I even made her take a drink, which seemed to make her eyes water. If she isn’t dropping dead, then it must be fit for our purposes.”

Caledonia silently waved the older woman away as she picked up the pitcher and began to pour full measures for them both.

“I would be remiss if I did not warn you about gorzalka,” she said. “I feel that I should—”

“You’ve already warned me.”

He had cut her off with his arrogant reply and she looked at him, possibly in amusement, as she handed him a full cup.

“Very well,” she said as if he was sure to regret this bargain. “Shall we begin?”

Thor nodded. “You may ask the first question.”

Caledonia had to choose her question carefully. If he answered it, she would have to drink. If he refused, he would have to drink. She wanted to get the man drunk so her question had to be pointed. Uncomfortable, even.

But she had to be perfectly clear.

“This is not my question, but may I ask about the rules so I understand completely?” she said.

He nodded. “What is it?”

“May I ask any question?”

“Any question.”

“Even a question you may not like?”

“I said any question. But that means I also get to ask you any question.”

So she couldn’t badger him too much or he would badger her in return. Now, there was some strategy involved because he could do to her what she wanted to do to him.

The lines were drawn.

“How many women have you bedded in your lifetime?” she asked.

It was the first volley in the battle and it was a heavy one. She came charging out on the offensive, like any good opponent, and Thor had to seriously keep from laughing at the question. She was trying to shock him, but it wasn’t going to work. He needed to get the woman sauced so they could be over this nonsense and get on with their lives together.

Such as it was.

“Nineteen,” he said without hesitation, though he was certain it wasn’t that high. Frankly, he didn’t even know what the number was, so it was the first number he could come up with. “I answered you. You must drink, my lady.”

Eyeing him, Caledonia took a swallow of the stuff, wincing as it went down because it was so strong. “What is your question for me?” she asked.

Her voice sounded tight, as if the alcohol had burned her throat, and Thor had to think of a good question.

“How many men have you bedded in your lifetime?” he asked.

Caledonia coughed. She coughed again. She suffered through a coughing fit before she spat out an answer.

“Forty-nine,” she said hoarsely, still coughing. “You must drink now.”

He did, a big swallow, and it damn near burned a hole in his throat. Now he knew why she was coughing, but he wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of knowing that he found the drink almost unbearable. The most he did was clear his throat.

“Christ,” he muttered. “How is it that you can even walk if you’ve bedded so many?”

“Is that your next question?”

He shook his head quickly. “Nay,” he said. “It is your turn.”

She coughed one last time before taking a deep breath and thinking carefully on her question. She wanted to hit him hard, so there was no backing off what she’d started.

“Because you have bedded so many women, do you have any diseases of the male member that I should be aware of?” she asked. “Do you have the French pox?”

That did cause him to cough, and cough loudly, because he had to cover the laugh that came belting out of his mouth.

“I do not think so,” he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Do you want to inspect me to find out?”

“Is that your question to me?”

“It is.”

Caledonia realized he’d cornered her quickly. If she refused to inspect him, he might consider it a refusal to answer. It was difficult to tell with him. But she wondered if he was prepared to drop his breeches for her inspection were she to agree to it. Perhaps he didn’t expect her to and was willing to take the chance.

She was going to turn the tables on him.

“Thank you, I would like to inspect you,” she said. “Lower your breeches. Let me see what nineteen other women have seen.”

The blue eyes began to crinkle at the corners. God help him, it was all Thor could do not to burst out laughing. She was being bold and reckless and entirely inappropriate, and he had to admit that he was impressed. When he should have been appalled, he was actually impressed. The woman was fearless as few people were. Without hesitation, he stood up and began to untie his breeches, but he abruptly came to a halt.

“Wait,” he said. “I answered your question. You must drink.”

She frowned. “I answered your question, so you must drink.”

One hand on his breeches, Thor picked up the cup and took another drink of that liquid lightning. Caledonia did the same, tossing back a healthy swallow and sputtering because of it. He was about to slide his breeches down his hips when she put out a hand to stop him.

“Wait,” she said. “You do not need to show me. I believe you.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Are you certain?”

“I am?”

He inched one side of his breeches down. “It would be no trouble.”

“Pull your breeches up, de Reyne. I do not want to see your flesh sausage.”

He couldn’t help it then. He started laughing. By the time he fastened his breeches and sat down, he was crying with laughter.

“Where did you hear such a thing?” he said. “No lady should say such words.”

Caledonia was smiling. His laughter lightened what could have been a truly embarrassing moment, but more than that, he had a positively delicious smile, one that changed the entire shape of his face.

It was astonishing.

“In case you’ve not realized it, I am not an ordinary lady,” she said. “What would you prefer I call it? Your gospel pipe? Your staff of delight? Your—”

He cut her off. “I understand clearly enough,” he said, wiping the tears of laughter from his eyes. “You needn’t prove your vocabulary to me, though I find it somewhat shocking that you should know such things. But along those lines, now it is my turn to inspect—I want to see what forty-nine men have already seen. Lift your skirts.”

Her smile vanished unnaturally fast. “I will not.”

“Then you must drink.”

Angrily, she grabbed her cup and took another big swallow, nearly choking on it. Thor sat across the table from her, a smile still on his lips as he watched her struggle with the strong drink.

“It is your turn,” he said. “Ask me anything.”

Caledonia wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, eyeing him unhappily. Unfortunately, she’d been drinking most of the day, and even though the drink, and those damnable mushrooms, had worn off for the most part, the three big gulps of the gorzalka were quickly catching up with her. Her throat was on fire and her head was beginning to swim a little as she faced off against the excruciatingly handsome man across the table.

Truth be told, he was looking better by the moment.

“You do not really want to marry me, do you?” she asked.

He shrugged. “A man should marry sometime.”

He’d answered her, so she took another drink. It was going down easier with each successive gulp. Thor watched her, seeing that she was quickly becoming inebriated. With the strength of that liquor, it was little wonder. She was heading in the direction he wanted her to go, but even so, he took some pity on her.

He hoped it wouldn’t cost him.

“Where do you get your unusual name?” he asked.

She pushed her hair back, uncovering her right eye, because up until that point the front of her hair had hung down over half her face. She blinked, trying to focus on him as she struggled against the drink.

“My mother descended from the kings of Strathclyde,” she said. “Her name was Alba and she named me Caledonia, after her home. It is the Roman name for Scotland.”

He nodded faintly as he collected his cup, making it look like he was taking a big swallow when, in fact, he took a very small one. He, too, was already feeling the sting of that drink and wanted to keep his wits about him as much as he could.

“It suits you,” he said.

Her brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

He shrugged. “It’s a lyrical name,” he said. “It’s ethereal and beautiful. Like you.”

Caledonia widened her eyes, shocked by the compliment. She wasn’t sure how to respond with the man actually being nice to her. “Everyone calls me Callie,” she said. “Only my mother and Robert called me Caledonia.”

He shook his head. “Caledonia is much better suited to you,” he said. “Do you have another question for me?”

Caledonia had to think about it. “How old are you?”

“I have seen forty summers.”

Her mouth popped open. “You are that old?”

“You forgot to take a drink.”

She did, quickly and sloppily. “You are that old?” she said again.

He grinned before taking a drink, letting out a cough because the stuff was burning holes in him. “How old are you?” he rasped.

She stared at him a moment before slumping in her chair and averting her gaze. After a moment, she reached for the pitcher and poured more of the clear liquid into her cup. Then she refilled his.

“Old enough,” she muttered. “Old enough to have given birth to three children I never see. Three children I’m not allowed to see. Did the king tell you that?”

The mood quickly shifted from adversarial to conversational. That terrible drink was clearly loosening Caledonia’s tongue because Thor was quite certain she wouldn’t have said such a thing otherwise. She’d been determined not to let him in, not to show him any interest or understanding, but those softly uttered words had his smile fading.

He looked at her seriously.

“Nay,” he said. “Why not? Why can you not see your own children?”

She grunted, taking yet another drink of that potent liquid. “Because it was what Robert wanted.”

He was confused. “Your own husband did not want you to see your own children?”

Caledonia shrugged. “He decided I was not someone he wanted raising his daughters,” she said, finally meeting his eyes. She shrugged again. “A nun is raising my children. A nun Robert engaged, a woman who will not let me see my own daughters. I am a stranger to them. Their own mother.”

Thor thought that was a tragic tale, indeed. “Where are they?” he asked.

“Stafford Castle,” she said. “That is the Stafford seat, you know. Edingale is the other castle, but that belongs to Tamworth. Both will be yours when you marry me. If you marry me. That bitch raises my daughters and refuses to let me see them. I cannot stay at Stafford if I cannot see my own children because it is like torture, so I come to London. In case you were at all wondering why I run and why I come to Gomorrah, it is because it is the furthest I can get and not think about my children.”

Those few pathetic sentences told Thor a great deal about the lady and her behavior. Now, it was starting to make some sense. He couldn’t understand why the Countess of Tamworth refused to rule the earldom in dignified widowhood, but rather chose to live a life of drink and debauchery. Always running, pretending she had no responsibilities…

She was a woman who was bleeding inside and trying to hide it.

“Did Stafford tell you to go away?” he asked quietly. “Did he send you away from your children?”

“He did not stop me if that is what you mean,” she said. “I will tell you a secret, de Reyne. Robert de Tosni only wanted sons and all I gave him was daughters. I was useless to him. He never wanted me as it was, but to bear him only girl children… Well, you can imagine how disappointed he was. He thought I did not know that he sent my father missives about it, but I knew. He would tell my father what a terrible mother I was, what a terrible wife I was. Then my brother died and my father shortly thereafter. And now who controls both Stafford and Tamworth? That failure of a wife and mother. Me!”

The alcohol had the better of her and she was running off at the mouth, but Thor was understanding a great deal about her thanks to that powerful drink that had fed her demons. Now, they were coming out.

“Were you trained to manage it?” he asked.

She grinned and lifted her cup. “Is that another question?” she asked drunkenly. “Because I’ll answer it. I was tutored by Lady d’Umfraville of Prudhoe Castle, who believed all young women should know how to read and write and do sums, among other things. I was very good at my lessons. She trained me well. But my father managed his own empire and Robert would never let me near anything he did. I was chased away and left to feel useless. That was Robert’s name for me, you know—Déchet. It means waste. Rubbish. That’s what he considered me—rubbish.”

Thor shook his head, disgusted by what he was hearing. “And he said that right to your face?”

Caledonia nodded. “He meant me to know,” she said. Then she took another drink, a big one, and nearly fell over as she tipped her head back to drain the cup. “He told the knights commanding Stafford Castle what he thought of me, and they do not care for me. Edingale was a little different because they understand I am the heiress, so those knights show a little more respect than the Stafford knights do. And now the king intends to chase me away from managing Stafford and Tamworth by marrying me to you. You will manage it and I will, once again, be Déchet. Rubbish.”

She made a grab for the pitcher, but he moved her cup away when she tried to pour. It was no longer his intention to see her drunk and compliant because the drink in her veins had taken their conversation, and possibly their wager, in an entirely different direction. Getting her drunk wasn’t funny anymore. Not after what she’d just told him. Undeterred by his actions, Caledonia drank from the neck of the pitcher, two big swallows, and slammed the vessel back down again. Shortly thereafter, she tipped over, face-first, onto the table.

She was out.

Thor sat there for a moment and simply watched her to see if she’d snap out of it, but she didn’t. Face against the table, she was already snoring heavily. But he realized he had what he wanted—she’d passed out and now he could take her back to Westminster. But after hearing how she viewed herself and the torment the woman had been put through, he felt strangely protective over her. He came from a wonderful and loving family, but she hadn’t. He was sure there was more to the story, but what he’d heard was enough.

Caledonia de Wylde de Tosni had to be at least twenty-five years, if not more. She was a mature woman, with three children, and a mess of a life. He should have been extremely wary of marrying a woman like that. He didn’t want a mess of a wife. But something told him that, deep down, there was more to her. He wasn’t sure why he felt that way, but he did. Perhaps all she needed was a chance, an opportunity to not feel like rubbish. He had no idea why he should feel compelled to take on a woman with more demons than most, but as a man of compassion, he knew he couldn’t walk away from her. It would have been easy for him to tell Henry he hadn’t located her and use that as leverage to break the betrothal, but he couldn’t seem to do it. This night had been eye-opening in many ways and he’d made his decision.

He hoped he wouldn’t live to regret it.