Free Tender is the Knight by Kathryn Le Veque

looked at her, his gaze sweeping her beautiful, if not tired, face. Christ, how he regretted his promises those weeks ago. “We shall discuss it later,” he said quietly.  “More wine, Lady d’ Vant?”
    Ryan ’s dread increased. “We shall discuss it now, and I do not require any more wine to help me to understand what your sister is implying.” She looked him in the eye. “What does she mean?”
    Dennis ’ square jaw flexed. After a brief moment, he stood up so rapidly that Ryan nearly fell back, out of her chair. Before she realized it, Dennis was grasping her arm and helping her to rise.
    “Riston, you will please take Lady Lyla in hand this night,” he instructed. “She is not to be let out of your sight, is that clear?”
    Riston nodded grimly. Charlotte, however, rose to her feet as her brother did. “Is that what you intend to do now, Dennis? Attain one last victory for St. Austell?”
    Ryan listened in horror. Dennis’ normally even expression was in danger of altering, locking eyes with his sister. “Not another word, Charlotte.”
    Charlotte slammed her big hands on the table, shaking the implements and food that sat upon it. Her pale eyes were blazing.
    “You will not deny us, Dennis,” she growled. “We are due our retribution. You made a promise to all of those at St. Austell, or has your wife’s poisonous wiles conveniently erased your memory?”
    Dennis did not reply. Pulling Ryan by the arm, he took her to a long flight of stairs that led to the second floor of St. Austell. On this level, there were two chambers and a loft; the loft held a huge, mussed bed with a variety of war implements scattered about the floor and walls. The other two chambers also held beds in various stages of dishevelment, and it was into the northern most chamber that Dennis took her. He tossed her into the room, slamming the door behind them and bolting it. For a man who had thus far remained cool and calm, he seemed uncharacteristically disturbed.
    Ryan was terrified. “What is it you now intend?” she demanded, her voice a husky whisper. “What was your sister implying? Am I to be made a sacrificial lamb this night?”
    Dennis looked at her. Though his gray eyes were remarkably soft, his strong features were tight and worrisome. He moved away from the door and as he did, Ryan also moved to maintain the distance between them. Dennis came to a halt when he saw what she was doing.
    “You needn’t fear me, my lady,” he said softly. “Truly, I would never harm you.”
    Ryan wasn’t convinced. “Then what was she talking about?”
    He pursed his lips as if debating whether or not to tell her. He realized he had no choice.
    “You understand the politics of war, so I will not insult your intelligence by repeating the history between St. Austell and Launceston,” he said quietly. “As you know, my father was killed last month in a siege. Understandably, my sister and my men were devastated. Many things were said in grief, many promises made….”
    “Like what?” she demanded.
    Dennis moved slowly toward the bed, lowering his massive frame down onto the edge. He gazed into the chill darkness of the room, with not even a taper of flame to light the walls. From the lancet window, the glow of the December moon illuminated his strong face. 
    “The army was looking to me to avenge my father’s death,” he murmured. “But I wanted something more. All I have ever known is war, and to be frank, I am sick to death of it. But in order to secure peace, I had to be considerate of my men’s feelings. I had to please them as I wanted to please myself.”
    Ryan was afraid to ask. “What did you tell them?”
    He lifted his eyebrows thoughtfully. “To appease myself, I suggested a marriage with a woman of the Earl of Cornwall’s choosing to cement a peace alliance. To appease my men, I promised to brutalize my Launceston wife so badly on our wedding night that she would be forever submissive and humiliated,