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

Chapter 4

Ruby and Ronan's knights were still waiting when I came through the gate. Only once the familiar castle had disappeared behind me did I unclench my fist. The ring had cut deep into my palm, leaving it slick with blood.

"My lady—" Ruby's face tightened.

"Don't call me that."

When I returned to the camp, Ronan was standing alone outside his tent. I opened my wounded hand. The bloodstained emerald rested in my palm. "I got it back."

He didn't reach for it. "It's yours."

I wanted to question him, but my vision suddenly went black. A pair of strong arms caught me before I hit the ground.

When I woke, I was lying in a quiet guest room. The ring had been cleaned and placed beside my pillow. Ronan brought me food and poured me a glass of water. When he saw how quickly I ate, he said only, "Slow down. No one is going to take it from you."

The simple kindness made my throat tighten. At Locke's side, I had always put his feelings and dignity first. It had been a long time since anyone cared about me.

I stayed at the fortress for the next few days to recover. Ronan handled military affairs by day and ate dinner with me every evening. Replies to my letters began to arrive as well. The northern lords suspended their knights' service to Locke, and three merchant guilds stopped extending credit to his household.

I felt no thrill of revenge as I read the letters, only a deep and lingering exhaustion. I had proven I could leave him, and Locke wasn't nearly as powerful as he imagined.

One evening, Ronan finished changing my bandages and turned to leave. I caught his sleeve. "You never look at me as if I'm your prisoner."

He leaned closer, bracing one hand beside my pillow while keeping one last sliver of distance between us. "How would you like me to look at you?"

He came closer still. His breath brushed my cheek, and my pulse quickened. "What if I say no?"

Ronan immediately drew back. "Then I'll leave."

As he turned away, I reached out and caught his cravat. "I didn't say no."

Ronan drew a sharp breath. "Think carefully, Juliet."

I looked into his eyes. "I have."

I kissed him first. Ronan went rigid for a heartbeat, then locked an arm around my waist and pressed me into the soft bed. His kiss was fierce enough to make me tremble, but the moment he touched the wounds on my back, it softened.

"Tell me if it hurts."

"I will."

He kissed me again, his hot palm settling over my waist through the fabric of my dress.

Just as we both began to lose our breath, weapons clashed in the corridor.

"Juliet!" Locke's hoarse shout carried through the oak door. "Haven't you taken this far enough? Come home with me!"

My body went rigid. Ronan stopped immediately and looked down at me. "Do you want me to open the door?"

I waited for the old, familiar fear to pass, then shook my head. "No. Make him leave."

Ronan straightened my clothes, then called through the door, "She doesn't want to see you."

"Ronan, how dare you put your hands on my woman?"

I took Ronan's hand and answered for myself. "I'm not your woman anymore. I'm Juliet — the woman you ran off with your own two hands."

A broadsword hit armor outside with a deafening clang. Ronan glanced at me and laughed, loud enough for Locke to hear. "Too late. She doesn't have the strength to leave with you now."

Heat rushed to my face and I pinched him, hard. He chuckled, caught my hand, and pulled me into his arms. Out in the corridor, Locke lost what little sense he had left.