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“Wherever did you find those hideous clothes, daughter?” Lord Clayton asked, his beak-like nose wrinkled in disgust.
“Sir Reginald gave them to me, sir.” She didn’t know how Eleanor usually addressed her father, but ‘sir’ felt right. Lara tried to give Eleanor’s consciousness free reign, but the gentlewoman had been subdued since the night before. Lara wasn’t sure if the fantastic sex had frightened Eleanor or soothed her. She had all but vanished from Lara’s perception.
Lord Clayton scoffed. “This is the way he provides for my prized daughter? I have a mind to call off this entire tournament and run him through with my own sword. Look at what he did to your sister,” he demanded. “Alyssa is heartbroken.”
Lara looked at the young woman who she caught staring longingly at Lord Abbot. Alyssa started and diverted her gaze. “She always looks like that, father,” Lara said. “She didn’t want to marry Sir Reginald in the first place. The foolish girl is in love with Lord Abbot.”
Over in her corner, the girl in question made a small sound of displeasure.
“You are to wed Lord Abbot, Eleanor. You’ve the character to be a lady worthy of running a castle. You’ve the beauty to attract a powerful husband. Alyssa is meek and uncomely. She was lucky I set up her marriage to Ferguson at birth. She has little hope of making a good match on her own.”
Geez, what a dick. He didn’t have to say it in front of the young woman like that. Lara’s dislike of Lord Clayton was more than that of her own. Eleanor was in her somewhere intensifying her feelings. Lara just wished Eleanor would come out of hiding now that she was messed up with this weird family situation. Lara had no idea how to handle it.
“That’s not true, father,” Lara said. “Lord Abbot said himself that Alyssa would make the better wife.”
She glanced at Alyssa. The frail-looking young woman was staring at Lord Abbot with wide eyes. Lara could see her trying to find her tongue to voice the question she was bursting to ask, but Lord Abbot shifted in his chair to sit up properly and Alyssa’s gaze dropped again.
Lord Abbot spoke, his words slightly slurred, likely from lanolin. He had to be in a lot of pain. “Your father has convinced me that you are the prize, Eleanor, and after the humiliation I suffered at the hand of Sir Reginald, there is no way I will hand you over to him without a fight.”
“You are injured, my lord,” Lara tried. “Perhaps we should postpone this fight for a few days so that you can recover.”
Abbot scoffed. “This wound. This wound is nothing. I’ve fought and won battles with a sword wound that went clean through my side.”
Lara breathed a frustrated sigh. “If Sir Reginald wins, I am to wed him, isn’t that correct?”
“He will not win.”
“But if he does—”
Lord Clayton cleared his throat. “Daughter, go find something decent to wear. I can’t stand the sight of you in that filthy peasant garb. Alyssa, help your sister.”
Alyssa sprang to her feet like a marionette. “Yes, Father.”
She nearly sprinted to Lara’s side, took her by the wrist, and tugged her towards the door. She was strong for someone so small. Lara doubted she was even five feet tall. Lara followed Alyssa out into the corridor and towards a set of stairs.
“I brought some clothing for you from home, dearest sister,” Alyssa said in her unassuming voice. “You’ll need to dress well for the tournament.”
“Thank you, Alyssa, that was thoughtful of you.”
Alyssa hurried up a set of stairs and pushed open the door of a room halfway down a corridor. It turned out to be a bedchamber. Lara was ushered inside, and Alyssa closed the door.
“You idiot! How could you get caught?” Alyssa bellowed the moment the door was closed. “My plan should have worked perfectly. I never thought Lord Abbot would go after you.” She sighed. “Damn it! Sir Reginald has to win this tournament or I shall never marry properly. Hurry up and change so we can do something about this.”
Lara stared at Alyssa in disbelief. Eleanor’s meek little sister was a schemer? Had she lived in modern times, she would have been an Oscar-winning actress. Alyssa moved to the wardrobe and pulled out an emerald-green gown.
“You have to look stunning,” she said. “Lord Abbot was always easily distracted by your beauty. He won’t be able to concentrate by the time I’m through with you.”
Lara was too stunned to voice a protest as the chore of dressing began. Alyssa worked like an artist creating her Magnus opus. The quantity of fabric in Eleanor’s dress could have supplied an entire army with tents. After Eleanor was dressed, Alyssa went to work on her hair. Lara sat before a mirror at the dressing table, watching all of this happen to the woman in the mirror, who was Eleanor, not her. Eleanor really was a gorgeous woman. And with hair perfectly styled, one long strand curling against her neck and seductively drawing attention to her bosom, Lord Asshat, erm, Abbot, was sure to be distracted.
“Manners, Eleanor,” Alyssa hissed as they left the room together. “You’d set the world on its ear if only you’d stifle your infinite opinions on things best left to men.”
“I think you’re already setting the world on its ear. Why do you want to marry Abbot, anyway? He’s a bully.”
“A bully with a title. And we’ve had this discussion before, sister. You know I can handle him. He treats me like a delicate flower. You stir up his temper at every occasion. No wonder he treats you the way he does.”
“You make it sound like it’s my fault.”
“Well, it is, isn’t it? You can’t tempt a man to his very limits and expect him not to act upon it.”
Lara stifled the urge to slap the little twit until she grew some 21st-century sensibility.
Alyssa twisted her hands, a happy smile upon her thin lips. “Did Abbot really say I would make a better wife?”
“Yes, he did. Right before he tried to rape me.”
Alyssa gasped. “Does Reginald know?”
“Why do you think Lord Abbot has that horrible bruise on the side of his head?”
“Reginald doesn’t know about the other times, does he?”
Alyssa knew Abbot had raped her own sister and she still wanted him? Lara didn’t answer her question because she was too busy gaping at her.
“You told Reginald, did you not?”
“Yes, I told him.”
“Does he still want you, even though you’ve been deflowered by his rival?”
Memories of making love the night before swarmed her thoughts. “I think so.”
Alyssa made a sound of impatience. “This won’t work if Reginald doesn’t want you. Damn it, Eleanor, you said you would hide it from him. You promised me you wouldn’t tell him.”
“It’s kind of hard to hide it when he discovers you naked with your attacker holding you down with his er…” What did people of this era call male components? “His er…male parts fully exposed.”
Alyssa’s eyes widened. “You saw it?”
“Unfortunately.”
Alyssa got a thoughtful look on her face. “I wonder how long Christopher will need to get over you before he asks Father for my hand. Do you think a week is long enough?”
Lara couldn’t disguise her look of disgust. “You are twisted, Alyssa. Do you know that?”
“I want Christopher Abbot, Eleanor. And no matter what it takes, I shall have him.”
Lara wouldn’t wish that man on anyone. Not even someone who apparently wanted him and had shit for brains.
They had arrived outside the gathering room. “I will be certain not to get in your way, sister,” Lara said.
Alyssa smiled and entered the room. Lara followed her.
“Where is Lord Abbot?” Alyssa asked their father, eyes seeking every corner of the room.
“He has a tournament to prepare for, doesn’t he?”
“Father, if Lord Abbot loses, I would still be willing to accept him as my husband,” Alyssa said, eyes downcast, a fierce blush staining her cheeks. “You could spe
ak to him on my behalf.”
My God, she has every man in her world completely under her control and they don’t even realize it, Lara thought.
“Why would he lose?” Lord Clayton said. “And besides, little one, he has no interest in you.”
