Sheridan picked that moment to awaken. Much to everyone’s surprise, she suddenly raised an arm and slapped Guy across the face. Startled, he lost his grip and she almost tumbled to the floor. Only his quick reflexes prevented her head from striking the stone. Sean, as fast and agile as a cat, was on his knees beside her just as another hand came up. He grabbed it before it could strike Guy again.
“Bastards,” she was half-awake, spouting obscenities. “I’ll kill you both. Let me go. Let me go, I say!”
Sean knew her mind was not clear. Before he could speak, Alys leaned over her.
“Dani,” she said softly. “’Tis all right. I am here.”
Sheridan’s luminous blue eyes lolled open. They kept rolling back into her head. “Alys?” she whispered. She blinked several times. “Where am I? What is happening?”
“We must leave the Tower,” Alys told her. “Sir Guy… well, he is helping us….”
Sheridan was dreadfully groggy. She looked at Guy, then turned to Sean. Her eyes widened. “Sean,” she whispered. “You are here, too?”
“I am here.”
Guy could see in that moment, by the expression upon her face, that the feelings Sean de Lara had expressed for Sheridan were very mutual. It was a disheartening awareness. But Guy wasn’t accustomed to surrender; it did not come easily to him. His father had taught him that. He knew that he would not relinquish Sheridan without a fight.
Sean still held her hand. Before Guy could stop him, he tugged gently on her arm and pulled her right up into his cradling grasp. They were smiling at each other, very glad to see one another. Guy’s momentary surprise turned to resentment.
“No, de Lara,” he said firmly. “She must go with me. I must remove her from the Tower at once.”
Sean tore his gaze away from Sheridan long enough to cast de Braose a malignant glare. Strangely enough, he did not speak the multitude of threats that were on his mind. He saw no need now that Sheridan was in his arms.
“She will be removed,” he said quietly. “But it will be under my protection.”
Guy was normally a very calm man. What he did in the next moment was uncharacteristic. He unsheathed his weapon, a blade used in many battles by his forefathers, and leveled it at Sean. He ceased to become the calm, pleasant man he had established a reputation as. He became what his family had built their foundation on– a warring, confrontational de Braose.
“She is not yours, not by rights or by law,” he said, as sternly as his mild-manner would allow. “Release her to me and I will forgive everything. Refuse and I shall be forced to defend what is rightfully mine.”
The smell of battle was in the air. Sean had inhaled the heady scent too many times not to know it, not to feel it. He carefully put Sheridan down, holding her steady as she wobbled on weak legs.
“Go with Alys,” he told her. “Alys, take your sister away from here. Go back to your apartment until I come for you.”
“Nay,” Sheridan shook her head, unsteadying herself to the point of nearly falling. “I’ll not leave you. What is happening here?”
As Sean thought of a simple explanation for the events of the past few moments, Guy spoke.
“Jocelin has offered a betrothal between you and I,” he said. “I have accepted.”
Sheridan wasn’t overly stunned. Her father had been trying to marry her off since she had been fourteen years of age. Five years later, Jocelin had taken the mantle of matchmaker. She knew her worth as an heiress, and Guy seemed like a kind young man. Certainly he was well connected and an alliance between St. James and de Braose would be a smart one. But the fact remained that she did not want to marry him.
“Sir Sean and I have an understanding of betrothal,” she said as considerately as she could. “Jocelin was not aware of this when he spoke to you. He did not speak with my permission.”
“But he spoke on behalf of your father, who has asked this of him,” Guy said. “My lady, I mean no disrespect, but surely you are aware of Sir Sean’s… loyalties.”
“I am.”
“And yet you would still marry him?”
“I would marry the man, not his politics.”
“But they are one in the same. You are heiress to the House of St. James, one of the king’s strongest opponents. To marry the king’s personal protector would be to forever ostracize your family from her allies. You would be alone, ruined. It would be political suicide.”
She knew that. Seeds of doubt began to take root. Perhaps she was being too selfish in only thinking of herself. But looking at Sean, the way the man made her feel, she could not imagine living without him for the rest of her life. Still, she could not shake the feeling that all of this might only be a passing infatuation. She’d only known Sean a matter of days and already she was willing to risk her family’s future because of her own selfish wants. Confusion and distress, coupled by the residual effects of the drugs that Gilby had given her, weakened her normally strong resolve.
Sheridan took a few steps back, grasping Sean gently by the arm. She pulled him back, almost to the door, so that they could speak privately. Her lovely face turned to him, the light from the fading moon casting shadows on her features. From her expression, it was obvious that there was much on her mind.
“When I look at you,” she murmured, “all I see is what I want, not necessarily what is right.”