Midnight Eyes Brophy, Sarah (7 ebook reader txt) 📖

risen from obscurity to be one of the best killers in all of England; how he had, with cold deliberation, sold his sword out for hire, not even pretending to fight for such illusory things as honor and integrity, but for cold, hard gold only.

As a mercenary, Robert Beaumont was second to none, and soon only the king himself had been able to afford him, for only he was able to promise the land and position that the warrior craved. Robert fought for the king, and the king was led by his lover, Roger.

Imogen could only too well imagine how her brother had calmly manipulated King William till everything was how he wanted it to be. She didn’t doubt for a second that it had been Roger who had seen to it that after four years spent fighting in the bloody border wars with Wales, Robert could claim his just reward only if he took the infamous Lady Deformed as his wife.

The last time Roger had been in the Keep he had bound her hands and hauled her to her feet. He had walked around her like an animal prowling after its prey, he had then stood so close behind her that she could feel the heat of him making her skin crawl and he had told her calmly that he was nearly finished playing games with her. His victory was now in plain sight. He had wanted her to know that, wanted her to know the man he had chosen to destroy her, wanted her to know that she had no way to save herself.

Knowledge, as she had learned through hard experience, was in itself a frustratingly inadequate weapon. After all, she had known his dark, twisted jealousies and brooding hatreds all of her life, but she had not been able to stop them from claiming her sight.

And now he was after her body and soul.

She had to stop thinking, knowing that in those memories lay a strange kind of madness. She turned toward the window, feeling the pale glow of the winter sun on her skin. God, how she wanted to live!

She sighed and raised her hand to her aching forehead. “I can’t stop him, Mary. I know what he plans, but I can’t see anyway that I can stop him.”

“Perhaps this is really the king’s plan, like Roger says.” Mary’s voice rang with a conviction that Imogen didn’t dare let herself believe. “Maybe it really is all about the cruel joke the king wanted to play on Beaumont.”

“I don’t know if I like being thought of as a cruel joke,” Imogen said dryly. She heard Mary’s embarrassed fluster and allowed herself a small, tight smile. She groped for her dear friends hands and when she found them, she also found comfort in their work-roughened familiarity. She took a deep, steadying breath.

“Mary, you must believe that the threat is real. I can hear the triumph in Roger’s letter. He is now a step closer to his goal of annihilating me and he has chosen Beaumont and the king to bring it about. They are ways and means only but never doubt that the threat is real, the outcome uncertain, and I will ask you once again to leave this accursed Keep.”

Mary gave Imogen’s hand a reassuring squeeze, silently communicating her loyalty and support, but Imogen refused to let herself give in to that offered strength.

“Roger’s hatred might not be appeased by merely tormenting me and, if not, it will spread, destroying all it touches. I couldn’t bear for you to be caught up in this. It is enough for you to have shared so many dark hours with me. I can’t let you end them with me.” Imogen drew another deep, shuddering breath. “Mary, please go.”

“I’m here because I want to be here and here I will stay. You can’t tell me to leave, my girl, because you never invited me to be here in the first place,” Mary said gruffly. “Besides, just where do you think I’m going to drag these old bones? No, I’m happy enough here by this piddling fire, thank you very much.”

“But Mary…”

“No buts. You won’t be rid of me that easily.”

Imogen smiled, tremulous with tears. “I know it’s selfish, I know it’s wrong, but I’m so relieved that you will stay. I fear the dark alone.”

“I think a little selfishness never hurt anyone much, and remember I’m being selfish too. I love you like a daughter, and I can think of nowhere I’d rather be and no one I’d rather be with.”

Imogen bowed and buried her head in the old woman’s coarse skirts. A warm hand covered her hair. For a moment neither of them needed to speak, and then Mary cleared her throat, trying to remove the huskiness.

“So, Imogen, what do we do now?”

Imogen rolled her head to the side but let it remain on Mary’s knee. “Now, Mary, we wait.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “And we pray.”

Chapter One

“You don’t mean to tell me that you have dragged me halfway across this frozen wasteland of a country to farm rocks amongst starving peasants? Because, if you have, Boy…”

Robert smiled absently, his mind concentrating on the deceptively repetitive horizon, but about two days ago he had stopped listening to Matthew’s constant whining.

Ideally, he should have left the old man and his endless steam of complaints back in the London inn that they had been calling home, but he had no idea how such a thing could have been achieved. After all, as he hadn’t invited him to come along in the first place, there was no way he could really have invited him to stay behind.

From many years of hard experience Robert had learnt that nothing in the mortal realm moved Matthew one inch unless the cantankerous old man wanted to be moved. Just because the man called himself squire didn’t mean that he actually took orders at any point.

Which was also only logical, Robert thought with