Too Late, Your Grace: I'm in Your Rival's Bed

Chapter 2

An icy wind tore across the tower, and the coarse rope rubbed my wrists raw. I glanced down into the ravine. Fear crawled up my spine despite everything.

"You mean to use me against Locke?" I asked.

Ronan didn't deny it. He sent a sealed message to Locke, and the messenger came back with Locke's exact reply.

"Keep her tied up. It'll teach her a lesson. And tell her to come up with a fresh way to fight for my attention next time. Faking a k********g is getting old."

The wind knifed through the tears in my skirt. I'd thought I was past feeling pain, but it still tore through my chest.

Ronan was silent for a moment. "It appears you matter less to him than I expected."

"Which means killing me would be pointless." I clenched my frost-pale fingers and met his gaze. "Duke Ronan, we should discuss a different sort of arrangement."

Before Ronan could answer, the guards dragged a captured courier onto the tower. He was one of Locke's servants, and along with a letter in which Daphne gloated about her pregnancy, he carried a stack of intimate sketches. The bedroom. The conservatory. Even the sacred council chamber. They had carried on everywhere.

My stomach lurched. I closed my eyes for a moment, then bent down, gathered the drawings, and fed them to the brazier. Flames devoured the lovers on the page.

"She thought these would humiliate me. Instead, they prove Locke desecrated the council chamber."

For the first time, Ronan looked intrigued. "You aren't as weak as the rumors claim."

"Who started those rumors?"

"Locke."

I laughed without humor. "Of course. He needed everyone to believe I couldn't live without him."

I looked at Ronan evenly. "If you truly want to make a deal, untie me first. At a negotiating table, both parties should be able to stand."

The surrounding knights stiffened. Ronan just chuckled, drew his knife, and cut the ropes himself. My legs buckled the moment I was free, and he caught me around the waist.

Ronan wanted me to return to Locke and retrieve the emerald ring my parents had left me. It was the token of their alliance. Many lords and knights recognized both the ring and its rightful owner. I had given it to Locke years ago as proof of my devotion. Looking back, it had been the first thing I surrendered to him. After that came my dignity, my identity, and my whole heart, handed over one piece at a time.

"Who gets the ring once I bring it back?" I asked.

"You do," Ronan said at once.

"You're not going to bargain?"

"No need." Ronan held my gaze. "Your ring was never what I wanted."

The words caught me off guard. Before I could ask what he meant, he turned away and told the knights to ready a horse, leaving me to wonder whether I'd imagined that flicker of tenderness.

Before I left the tower, I looked back. "How did you know about the ring?"

Ronan patted my hand, gentle. "Come back alive, and I'll tell you."