“Who do you work for, then?”

She shook her head, refusing to answer. How could she gain this man’s trust when he was determined to hate her?

Reaching out, he grabbed her hands. She yelped in surprise, trying to yank away, but he shoved her sleeves up, examining her wrists.

Her heart pounded. Was he looking for the mark of a Knight? If so, how did he know about the Knights? From his father? Thankfully, her tattoo wasn’t in the same place as other Knights. Since she was a woman, Ackley had her tattoo placed higher up, near her elbow, so it would be less visible.

She used the opportunity to glance at Dexter’s arms. Each of his inner wrists was tattooed with odd writing she couldn’t decipher.

When he released her, they stared at one another, both wary.

Dexter shoved his chin to the side, cracking his neck. “Your response to my grabbing you wasn’t what I expected it to be.” He examined her from head to toe, eyes assessing. “It’s almost as if you knew what I was doing and why.”

Reid tried not to flinch under his scrutiny. Somehow, he knew about the Knights—she was sure of it. “When I broke into your parents’ bedchamber, your mother took my hands and examined them, just like you did. She said she was searching for evidence of poison. I assumed you were doing the same.” In hindsight, she should have protested when he grabbed her wrists. However, she’d been too shocked at the realization of why he was doing it.

He took a slow, menacing step toward her, invading her personal space. “Tell me, Lady Reid, how did you come to be the king’s only female employee and personal lackey?”

Chapter Four

Reid took an involuntary step away from Dexter, his words ringing in her head. What was he implying? As soon as she arrived at the palace, she planned to send her father a strongly worded letter asking why he’d agreed to this absurd match. But she already knew. Besides this union being used to keep her safe and out of the king’s clutches, Duke Ellington had been granted his pardon and deed. And most people in northern Marsden had arranged marriages.

Her heart ached. Her father had consented to this marriage without asking what Reid wanted, which was typical of how her entire life had been up to this point. It was all about doing what was best for the family. Not once had Reid done anything for herself. Why did the men in her life assume they could make decisions for her? Why had no one ever asked what she wanted?