Read Online Enchanted by Elizabeth Lowell - Free Book Online

already. Simon
will be forced to drink many more before he is free of the great
hall .
    Silently Ariane stood in the center of the room,
the dagger turning restlessly in her hands. The violet dressseethed softly, redoubling the least flicker of
lantern light.
    “Yes,” Ariane whispered finally.
“That is the answer. Simon is a warrior. When attacked, he
will attack in return with the heedless speed of a cat.”
    She looked at the dagger.
    “I will slash at him, he will kill me before
his better judgment interferes, and that will be the end of
it.”
    A draft stirred the fabric of Ariane’s dress,
making it swirl around her feet with tiny, almost secret
motions.
    I am mad even to think of
this. He will take the dagger from me and beat me most
soundly .
    No. I will beguile him first.
I will bide my time until he is lost to the coils of lust and ale.
Then I will strike .
    He will strike back fiercely.
It will end .
    It will not. You are mad even
to think of this .
    Ariane ignored the inner argument just as she
ignored the soothing caress of the Learned fabric. She had become
used to fragments of herself arguing since the night when she lay
helpless, bound by nightmare and Geoffrey’s sweating,
hammering body.
    Far better to die than to endure such masculine
savagery again.
    At least death will be
quick .
    The thought brought a measure of comfort to Ariane.
No matter how many well-wishers slowed Simon’s progress
through the great hall toward her bedchamber, no matter how many
toasts must be drunk to avoid insult to other knights, Simon would
make a swift job of her death.
    She had never seen such quickness as his. Not even
Geoffrey the Fair, who was renowned for fighting two and three men
at once.
    And winning.
    No one will blame Simon for
what happens. After all, he will only be defending himself against
a murderous bride .
    Oddly, making certain that Simon didn’t
suffer because of her death was important to Ariane. He had been
kindto her in his own way. Not the kindness of
lackeys or men seeking favors, but a simple awareness that she had
neither his strength nor his stamina on the trail. He had been
careful of her in a way that had nothing to do with the politeness
of a knight toward a highborn maiden.
    The sound of footsteps in the hall broke into
Ariane’s thoughts.
    “Who goes?” she asked.
    Her voice was so tight it was almost hoarse.
    “Your husband. May I enter?”
    “It is too soon,” Ariane said without
thinking.
    “Too soon?”
    “I’m not—not ready.”
    Simon’s laughter was rather teasing and quite
male. It ruffled nerves Ariane had never known existed in her
body.
    “It will be my pleasure to ready you most
thoroughly,” Simon said in a deep voice. “Open the door
for me, nightingale.”
    Ariane moved to put the dagger in its sheath at her
waist, only to remember that the dress was laced from neck to
knees. There was no belt from which to hang a sheath.
    Frantically she looked around for a place to put
the dagger. It must be within her reach while she lay in bed. That
would be when she most needed it.
    The sash holding one of the bed draperies aside was
the best hiding place Ariane could find for the blade. Hurriedly
she slid the dagger between the folds of cloth and went to the
door.
    “Ariane.”
    Simon’s voice was no longer teasing. He meant
to have access to the bedchamber.
    And to his wife.
    With shaking hands, Ariane opened the door.
    “There was no barrier to your entry,”
she said in a low voice.
    Her glance didn’t lift from the floor.
    “Your lack of welcome is a bigger barrier
than any contrived by a locksmith,” Simon said.
    Ariane said nothing. Nor did she look up to his
face.
    “If I am so ugly in your eyes, why did you
want the Learned to witness that whatever comes of this marriage is
your doing, not mine?” Simon challenged gently.
    “You are not ugly in my eyes,” Ariane
said.
    “Then look at me, nightingale.”
    Drawing a deep breath, Ariane forced herself