Read Online Impostress by Lisa Jackson - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Lisa Jackson
Tags: Fiction, General, Romance, Historical, Missing Persons, Sisters, middle ages, Impostors and Imposture
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onto the bottom, though she could barely make out the marking.
He snorted in disbelief. Then, his gaze locking hard on hers, he touched the rim of his cup to her mazer. "Well, wife," he drawled, his lips twisting at the irony of it all, "here's to loving husbands, obedient wives, and, oh, yes, to wedded bliss."
Chapter Five
The toast echoed through the chamber as Kelan touched the rim of his mazer to hers.
Kiera swallowed hard, felt herself turn ashen at the thought of her lies. So many lies. To her father, to the priest, to God, and to this man who mistakenly thought she was his wife. "To bliss," she forced out and saw those steely eyes staring at her, taking in the features of her face as if searing them into his brain.
Scooting back quickly, away from the shifting light of the candles, she turned her face from him, hoping her hair created a curtain that would disguise her features. What had she been thinking? The room was dark, yes, but there was still enough light that if he caught a decent view of her he might realize upon awaking with Elyn that he'd been duped. She could only hope that he was already too drugged to remember.
She took a swallow of her wine, then another as he drained his cup and lifted a dark brow, silently daring her to do the same. From her corner of the bed, she took the challenge and emptied her mazer, feeling the cool wine slide down her throat. "Another?" he asked.
Before she could reply, he reached down and poured from the jug into the two mazers. Oh, by the gods, now how was she supposed to add the draft of sleeping potion to his drink?
He glanced over his shoulder, one dark eyebrow raised, his hand poised over the jug.
"What ... oh." She felt herself coloring under his gaze. "Please, m'lord." 'Twas difficult to spit out the word, for she didn't like even the idea that he was her master.
"You may call me Kelan, or husband."
Never,
she thought. She accepted the cup and, after he touched the rim of his mazer to hers again, drank, watching as he did the same. How long was it before the elixir would take effect?
"Thank you ... Kelan." Her heart hammered and she could barely breathe. This was all wrong. So very wrong.
Resting a hip upon the bed, he eyed her over the rim of his mazer. "And what shall I call you, I wonder?" he asked, sipping. "What would you like?"
"Me?"
"To be called."
"Oh."
Think, Kiera, keep him talking.
"Elyn," she said, her tongue tripping over the name. Dear Lord, he was so close. Too close. Her bare foot was near his hip but she didn't dare shift away like a frightened rabbit. He was supposed to be her husband.
"Not wife?"
"No!"
He waited in the dim, glimmering candlelight.
"I mean ..." She fought the urge to make the sign of the cross as he stared at her with the sharp-eyed intensity of a hawk. "I mean, Elyn is fine. Yes. Call me Elyn." She forced a tiny smile. "This is all so new."
Again the twitch of his eyebrow.
Inside she felt undone. Shaken. She licked her lips nervously, then saw that his gaze was drawn to the movement. What now? He seemed a little drunk, but just a little. Not near enough. And beneath his mask of civility she sensed a smoldering fury, anger that he was trying to keep from sparking. " 'Tis new for me as well," he finally said and shoved his dark hair off his forehead. As if fighting a headache, he closed his eyes.
Finally.
Now if he'd just fall asleep so that Elyn could return and they could exchange places again. Kiera felt a little bit of relief and yawned slowly, her bones beginning to melt a bit. In her nervousness, she'd drunk too much wine after not eating all day. Her head had begun to spin a little and the golden shadows crowding the room seemed warmer and more enticing. If it weren't for this beast sitting on the edge of her bed, she might even find the evening pleasant.
"You must never embarrass me again," he said suddenly, his voice brooking no argument. She saw it then, in his coiled muscles, in the tense corners of his
He snorted in disbelief. Then, his gaze locking hard on hers, he touched the rim of his cup to her mazer. "Well, wife," he drawled, his lips twisting at the irony of it all, "here's to loving husbands, obedient wives, and, oh, yes, to wedded bliss."
Chapter Five
The toast echoed through the chamber as Kelan touched the rim of his mazer to hers.
Kiera swallowed hard, felt herself turn ashen at the thought of her lies. So many lies. To her father, to the priest, to God, and to this man who mistakenly thought she was his wife. "To bliss," she forced out and saw those steely eyes staring at her, taking in the features of her face as if searing them into his brain.
Scooting back quickly, away from the shifting light of the candles, she turned her face from him, hoping her hair created a curtain that would disguise her features. What had she been thinking? The room was dark, yes, but there was still enough light that if he caught a decent view of her he might realize upon awaking with Elyn that he'd been duped. She could only hope that he was already too drugged to remember.
She took a swallow of her wine, then another as he drained his cup and lifted a dark brow, silently daring her to do the same. From her corner of the bed, she took the challenge and emptied her mazer, feeling the cool wine slide down her throat. "Another?" he asked.
Before she could reply, he reached down and poured from the jug into the two mazers. Oh, by the gods, now how was she supposed to add the draft of sleeping potion to his drink?
He glanced over his shoulder, one dark eyebrow raised, his hand poised over the jug.
"What ... oh." She felt herself coloring under his gaze. "Please, m'lord." 'Twas difficult to spit out the word, for she didn't like even the idea that he was her master.
"You may call me Kelan, or husband."
Never,
she thought. She accepted the cup and, after he touched the rim of his mazer to hers again, drank, watching as he did the same. How long was it before the elixir would take effect?
"Thank you ... Kelan." Her heart hammered and she could barely breathe. This was all wrong. So very wrong.
Resting a hip upon the bed, he eyed her over the rim of his mazer. "And what shall I call you, I wonder?" he asked, sipping. "What would you like?"
"Me?"
"To be called."
"Oh."
Think, Kiera, keep him talking.
"Elyn," she said, her tongue tripping over the name. Dear Lord, he was so close. Too close. Her bare foot was near his hip but she didn't dare shift away like a frightened rabbit. He was supposed to be her husband.
"Not wife?"
"No!"
He waited in the dim, glimmering candlelight.
"I mean ..." She fought the urge to make the sign of the cross as he stared at her with the sharp-eyed intensity of a hawk. "I mean, Elyn is fine. Yes. Call me Elyn." She forced a tiny smile. "This is all so new."
Again the twitch of his eyebrow.
Inside she felt undone. Shaken. She licked her lips nervously, then saw that his gaze was drawn to the movement. What now? He seemed a little drunk, but just a little. Not near enough. And beneath his mask of civility she sensed a smoldering fury, anger that he was trying to keep from sparking. " 'Tis new for me as well," he finally said and shoved his dark hair off his forehead. As if fighting a headache, he closed his eyes.
Finally.
Now if he'd just fall asleep so that Elyn could return and they could exchange places again. Kiera felt a little bit of relief and yawned slowly, her bones beginning to melt a bit. In her nervousness, she'd drunk too much wine after not eating all day. Her head had begun to spin a little and the golden shadows crowding the room seemed warmer and more enticing. If it weren't for this beast sitting on the edge of her bed, she might even find the evening pleasant.
"You must never embarrass me again," he said suddenly, his voice brooking no argument. She saw it then, in his coiled muscles, in the tense corners of his
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