Free Vow of Deception by Angela Johnson Page B

to sway the king when he has decided upon a course.”
    Rand took a deep breath. “I am going to see that your betrothal to Golan is discredited, and then to appease Edward, I shall marry you instead.”
    Rose’s temples began to throb and her palms dampened as Rand laid out an elaborate scheme based on the rocky foundation of a preposterous lie. She shook her head, refusing to accept Rand’s plan. It was madness. It would never work. She would absolutely not be a party to such absurd machinations.

Chapter Six
    The following afternoon in the king’s private reception room, Edward towered over Rose with a piercing stare. “Answer me honestly, Lady Ayleston. It is imperative that you tell me the truth of the matter.”
    She clutched her hands behind her back to keep them from trembling. Surely all in the chamber could hear the pa-bum pa-bum pa-bum of her wildly beating heart.
    She shifted her gaze to her father. Philip de Beaumont, Baron Briand, gave her an encouraging smile. His blue eyes, darker than hers, were soft with love.
    Avoiding direct eye contact with Golan, Rose noticed his face was now marred with a black-and-blue eye and swollen nose. Satisfaction stirred in her breast.
    Finally, she regarded Rand.
    His gray-green eyes held hers—willing her to answer in the affirmative. Rose took a deep breath and lied to the king of England. “Aye, my lord. Sir Rand and I vowed to marry when I was at court last spring.”
    At Golan’s deep inhalation, Rose looked at him at last. A fierce light flared in his black eyes and pierced her with a promise of retaliation. She shuddered.
    Upon seeing Golan’s stare, Rand moved to Rose’s side and fixed a frozen glare on Golan till he jerked away.
    Lord Briand added, “When my daughter informed me of her and Rand’s betrothal, I gave them my blessing. Though as a widow, Rose need not have my permission to marry.”
    When Rose’s father arrived at court early that morn, Rand had apprised him of Rose’s betrothal to Golan and the events that had transpired in the chapel. Lord Briand had been incensed, not only because Golan had attacked Rose, but also because Edward had given Sir Golan permission to marry Rose without consulting him. For those reasons, when Rand had laid out his plan to concoct a former, secret betrothal, Lord Briand had been quite willing to swear falsely that he knew of it.
    â€œSire, surely you don’t believe this nonsense,” Golan thundered, a purple vein bulging at his temple. “Last night Lady Ayleston claimed she intended to take a vow of chastity. Yet we are to believe she and Sir Rand had a prior betrothal agreement, which we are only hearing about now?”
    Lord Briand, his voice soft yet lethal, inquired, “Are you calling me a liar, Sir Golan?” He frowned fiercely at the younger man.
    Lord Briand stood tall and robust, his black hair silvered at the temples. Though not in his prime, he was still a powerful man. He had once been King Henry III’s champion.
    Rand watched Golan squirm. The barrel-chested knight held up his hands in acquiescence. “Nay, my lord. But I believe I have the stronger claim.”
    King Edward chose that moment to intervene. “Lord Briand, you have put me in a difficult position. I granted Sir Golan permission to marry your daughter, and when I give my word I don’t rescind it. The prior betrothal between your daughter and Sir Rand was verbal, not a written contract.”
    Sir Golan looked smugly at Rand.
    Edward continued, “Yet verbal agreements are as valid as written ones in the eyes of the Church. And it would appear that Rand does have the prior claim.”
    Though the whole plot to fabricate a betrothal with Rose had received Edward’s tacit approval when Rand spoke to him this morrow, the king was ever unpredictable. Rand would not put it past him to alter the secret agreement they made between one another,