Page 132 of Forbidden

“The hatred in Simon was no longer disguised. It crackled in his voice like lightning.

“Bewitched?” Meg said. “How so?”

“He remembers nothing of Blackthorne, nothing of his vow of fealty to Dominic, nothing of his betrothal to Ariane.”

A single black eyebrow lifted, giving Dominic’s face a sardonic look.

“God’s teeth,” Dominic said. “That could be inconvenient. King Henry was particularly pleased to have found a Saxon match for the Norman heiress.”

“A safe match, you mean. As your vassal, Duncan is indirectly beholden to Henry,” Sven said. “I understand that the lord of Deguerre Hold wasnotpleased by the proposed alliance.”

Dominic’s smile was as savage as the savage wolf’s head pin he wore.

“Lord Charles,” Dominic said softly,” “dreamed of expanding his empire with his daughter’s marriage. Instead, Ariane’s wedding will solidify Henry’s empire.”

“And yours,” Sven said with satisfaction.

“Yes. Did you see sign of Charles’s men in the Disputed Lands?”

“Nay,” Sven said.

“Simon?”

“All I saw sign of was witchery,” his brother said grimly.

Dominic glanced sideways at his wife.

“Witchery is your realm, not mine,” he said, smiling.

“So speaks the Glendruid Wolf,” Sven muttered.

Dominic’s smile widened, but he made no effort to further question Simon.

“What kind of spell or enchantment do you suspect?” Meg asked her brother-in-law.

“Ask the hell-witch who lives in the Disputed Lands.”

“From the beginning, please,” Meg said.

It was a command as much as a request.

Simon took no offense. He had both affection and respect for the Glendruid woman who had saved Dominic’s life at great risk to her own.

“Sven and I parted ways at Sea Home,” Simon said. “He wanted to chase rumors of a fully outfitted battle stallion roaming the forest like a wild animal, eluding all men who attempted to capture him. A great stallion of darkest brown…”

Meg looked at Sven.

“Duncan’s stallion?” she asked.

“I suspected as much. I had heard Duncan whistling to him like a falcon. So I whistled through the forest until Shield came trotting up like a great hound, happy to be home again.”

Meg turned back to Simon.

“While Sven was combing the forest,” Simon said, “I chased rumors of odd comings and goings to Sea Home.”

Meg’s breath was released swiftly.

“That was a dangerous thing to do,” she said. “Sir Erik is reputed to be a sorcerer. Sea Home is ruled by him.”