A Knight of Passion by Tarah Scott Page B

sausage.”
    Heat crept up her cheeks.
    He eyed her. “You could not have waited five more minutes to tell me this?”
    “My lord, I—”
    He barked a laugh. “Ten minutes, then.”
    She didn’t reply, uncertain whether or not his look of frustration was truly tinged with amusement as she perceived.
    He studied her. “This has weighed on your mind.”
    “You must know the truth,” she replied.
    “So that I may be certain I made a good bargain.”
    “It is why you married me.”
    “And what of the bargain you made?” he asked.
    She frowned. “What?”
    “Have you made a good bargain in marrying me?”
    “I never dreamed I would have such good fortune.”
    “Because I have taken you away from the duchess?”
    “And Siusan,” Riana added.
    “And Siusan,” he repeated.
    Riana laid a hand on his arm. “I will always be grateful.”
    “Grateful.” He gave a low laugh. “Fate is a cruel mistress to have turned my plans against me.”
    She frowned. “I do not understand.”
    He dropped his gaze to her hand where it still rested on his arm and she snatched it back.
    He stuffed his hands behind his head and regarded her. “How do you know the duchess is responsible for Lord Marr’s death?”
    Riana hesitated, uncertain of his sudden change in mood and topic. “He came to Arundel. The duchess was angry when he refused to financially support Balliol.”
    “Lord Marr is a loyal follower of Sir Andrew. She was a fool to think he would change alliances.”
    “But he supported Balliol at Dupplin Moor.”
    Bryant’s eyes narrowed. “You are mistaken.”
    She shook her head. “He regretted it, but it is true. The duchess threatened to expose his involvement if he did not add to Balliol’s coffers.”
    Sir Bryant grew thoughtful. “If news reached Sir Andrew that Lord Marr had supported Balliol, Lord Marr would be relegated to the ranks of the Disinherited . But the duchess would gain nothing by killing him.”
    “Nothing but the fear of those who would resist her requests in the future,” Riana said.
    Sir Bryant looked nonplussed. “She aspires to rule Scotland?”
    “In her way, yes,” Riana replied. “She cares nothing for politics…”
    “But everything for power,” he ended.
    Riana nodded.
    “Was she successful in frightening her next victim?”
    “I know only of Lord Cormac. He contributed to Balliol’s cause.”
    “You are certain Lord Cormac supported Balliol?” Sir Bryant demanded.
    Before she could stop the thought, her face heated with the memory of Lord Cormac in her bed.
    Sir Bryant’s expression hardened. “Did he tell you while his cock was buried inside you?”
    She couldn’t prevent a small gasp.
    “By God,” Sir Bryant muttered.  
    Riana lifted her chin. “You knew what I was before we married.”
    “Aye,” he bit back. “I even fucked you in the bed meant for Sir Dunbar.”
    “You did. And with very little urging.”
    He gave a strangled laugh. “What man could resist that?” He glanced at her breasts and she looked down. She had forgotten she was still exposed.
    Riana yanked the bodice up over her breast. “Only moments ago you couldn’t refuse.”
    “Aye, and even now my balls ache and my cock is so hard you could ride me all night and not wear me out.”
    She drew in a sharp breath.
    His mouth thinned. “You tried once, after having my cock inside you, to fuck another man. Never again.”
    “What—” She leapt from the bed. “How dare you?”
    He gave a low laugh. “I dare because I am your husband.”
    “You had no claim on me then.” She lifted her chin. “You had no right to interfere.”
    “Interfere? I saved your pretty neck from the hangman’s noose.”
    “Which time?” she demanded. “When you saved me from murdering a man by coming to my bed by mistake, or when you burst into the prison as the warden was fucking me?”
    Sir Bryant seized her wrist and yanked her to the edge of the bed. “It seems you owe me twice over.”
    He was