Free Midnight Magic by Shari Anton Page B

could love, and whose heart would be faithful to her in return. He’d been utterly convinced Madog ap Idwal suited Gwendolyn perfectly. The seal of the dragon was meant for such a man, not for an upstart knight chosen by the usurper king of England!
    So why hadn’t her father and Madog made the betrothal bargain formal, put the terms of the agreement to parchment, or set the wedding date earlier? Had they done their duty, she wouldn’t now be fretting over marrying the wrong man and thus endangering the legacy. Neither of which she could allow to happen.
    Why me?
God’s truth, she wished she hadn’t asked!
    Alberic’s passing over Nicole as a wife she understood. Not only was Nicole very young but, sweet heaven above, she’d tried to kill him. But Alberic should have chosen Emma, the eldest of them, as his wife! Emma was pretty, and bright, and far more suited to be a baron’s wife despite her horrible but infrequent headaches. The insult couldn’t be borne!
    Sweet mercy, she dare not feel compassion for the man who intended to send her sisters away from Camelen; who’d brushed off her betrothal as if a crumb of bread on his tunic.
    The man who’d killed her brother. For that reason alone she must steel her heart against any sympathy for Alberic.
    “My lady.”
    Garrett’s softly spoken greeting startled her. So deeply had she been lost in thought she didn’t hear his approach.
    “Garrett.”
    He leaned against the cold stone, ignoring the lovely view in favor of studying her. “Lady Emma wonders where you are.”
    “Has Nicole left off her wailing?”
    “Mostly.”
    “Then perhaps I will go into the hall . . . later.”
    But not to eat. Given her upset, whatever she might put down would surely come up again.
    They stood side by side in silence, Gwendolyn cognizant of how faithfully the elder knight had served her father, and aware of his many courtesies toward her and her siblings. Then he’d brought Alberic to Camelen, even agreed to serve as the usurper’s counselor, and betrayed them all thoroughly.
    Her anger and frustration spilled over. “Nothing is as it should be!”
    “Nothing has been as it should be since King Henry died and Stephen stole the throne. Why he believed he could take the kingdom without suffering resistance—”
    “I care not for the kingdom! I mean here, at Camelen. Father and William are dead and now we have our own usurper! Dear God, Garrett, could you not have lost Alberic along the way?”
    “I could have, but then we might have the king himself to deal with, and angry kings cause great havoc.”
    “Alberic is no better. He killed William, did he not? And he proposes to dispense us without our consent, and expects us to obey like . . . like sheep to the shearing!”
    “He has no choice.”
    “So he says!”
    Garrett’s deep sigh reflected her own feelings of powerlessness.
    “Gwendolyn, I know you hurt. You all hurt, as do I. But you must know that Alberic did not set out to take William’s life. Your father . . . aw, hell.”
    His hesitation gave her pause. Garrett didn’t want to tell her something he felt she should hear. To spare her further agony? So like Garrett. Emma was right; she shouldn’t be blaming him for their current coil.
    “I beg pardon, Garrett. I know you are not responsible for the actions of others. Pray tell me, what of my father?”
    Several heartbeats passed before he answered. “Sir Hugh was determined to break the siege, and thought eliminating the earl of Chester the best way to begin. He was sure that with Chester dead the three hundred knights in his force would go home, leaving the king’s army weakened. Hugh might have been right, but his obsession with killing Chester himself blinded him to all else. When he should have surrendered the field, he fought on, and when he fell, William took up his standard and refused to yield. God’s truth, Gwendolyn, Alberic happened to be the last to cross swords with your brother. He merely