Darcy Branwyn

England, 1192:

“I have sway,” Matthew told her quietly. “I may be able to fix this yet.”

She blew out a breath. “With what men? And how long will it take? For Christ’s sake Matthew, if you leave me for months on end for some fool mission…”

He didn’t address that, instead he turned the paper to face the other side of the desk, then took up the quill, dipped it and handed it over to Powell, who couldn’t have not heard them, but was minding his own business anyway.

The man signed it as a witness. Matthew nudged her gently off his knee then went around the desk. Powell handed him the quill and he signed it too. He looked up at her.

“Your turn, woman.”

She couldn’t move. That same cold fear was edging down her spine. Jennifer felt her hands beginning to shake. “No,” she managed hoarsely.

“Jennifer,” he warned

She shook her head. “I don’t want Prince John to know I’m alive, or that you defied him.”

“He doesn’t rule England yet. He just likes to think he does. I served with the king as did my brother-in-law, as did his brother. Like I said, I have sway.”

“With King Richard in the Holy Land but not here.”

He looked at Powell. “Do you blame me for wanting her?”

She pursed her lips at that.

“No, my lord.”…

(This book is a work in progress that takes place in the same fictional world as Enduringly Yours.)