Thank you for your patience, continued interest and support and especially for your kind concern. I appreciate it more than I could say.

I do not own Merlin or the characters and I honestly do not own Wicked In Your Arms.


Arthur strode towards the front door of the inn, ignoring his cousin calling to him from a table to let him know their dinner was waiting.

He welcomed the hard bite of winter on his cheeks as he stepped out into the windswept yard, relishing any discomfort the cold brought, but hoping it helped mask the uncomfortable knotting in his gut.

Perhaps anyone who looked at him would fail to notice that he'd been struck a blow.

She had ended it.

Their affair.

Them...

Gwen had ended them.


He burrowed deeper within his jacket, realizing he should've grabbed his long coat, but he was not about to go back for it... He was in no mood to deal with people.

And he was especially in no mood to face her again.

His jaw clenched so hard his teeth ached.

Gwen had walked away from him when they were only just starting to enjoy each other. They were just... beginning.

Beginning what, precisely, he couldn't say, but it was something more than an illicit, sordid affair.

For the first time in his life, he'd felt like himself with another person.

Himself.

Arthur.

Not the crown prince, or war hero. He'd felt like he could be his true self with her.

And with one word, she'd killed that.


His hands opened and shut at his sides at the memory of her silken skin. He hadn't done half the things he'd wished to do to her yet.

He hadn't heard half the things he wanted to hear from her lips yet...

This last thought jarred him...

Since when did he long to hear a woman talk... to spill her soul to him?

His hands unclenched. They weren't finished.

He'd had plenty of affairs before and had walked away with no regrets...with no painful knotting in his stomach. But this... Gwen... They weren't done. She was sorely mistaken if she thought she'd seen the last of him.


At that moment a man emerged from the stables tugging on his gloves and adjusting his hat upon his head.

Then a groom led a horse before him.

At that, a low growl rose from the back of Arthur's throat as he recognized the man from Gwen's past... The man she'd thought to compare him to.

They were nothing alike.

Because he would never be fool enough to let her go. Not if he truly wanted her.

And he did.

She'd said she didn't love the man, but he wondered if that was true.

Was that why his arrival today hurt her so much?

Was that why she'd ended their affair?

Had seeing Partridge reminded her that she cared for him? More than whatever feelings she harboured for him?

'She turned down his proposal,' a voice reminded him in the back of his mind. 'She couldn't still want him.'


At the thought of that proposal and that this man had hoped to claim Gwen for his wife, Arthur's vision clouded with a rage he'd never felt before.

Not even in the heat of battle when his blood pumped so hard all thought fled and he only acted.

He strode quick, hard strides across the yard. And without a word, he grabbed Thomas Partridge's shoulder and whirled him around.

The poor man didn't have time to speak before the prince planted his fist in his face with a satisfying crunch.

The man staggered, but didn't fall. He just glared at Arthur over the hand he held to his afflicted cheek.

"What the bloody hell was that for?" he asked.

"For thinking you could come back here and claim her after you threw her away."

At that, the bewilderment gradually cleared from the man's eyes.

"Ah, got to you, too, did she? There's certainly something about her, isn't there? She has a way about her. I should know. I tried for years to get beneath her skirts. I think it's that lovely mouth. Makes a man imagine the places he'd like her to put it."


Arthur saw red.

He growled and took a menacing step towards Thomas, who held up a hand to ward him off while his other hand fingered his tender cheek.

"No need for violence, chap. She's just a bit of common trash."

"Bastard!"

With a roar, Arthur charged him like a bull and knocked him to the ground. Both rolled, throwing punches and striking each other wherever their fists could connect.

But he felt nothing... He registered no pain.

Each crack of bone on bone fueled his fury, egging him further and he gained the advantage and pinned Thomas to the cold ground, striking him again and again.

"Arthur! Arthur! Stop!"

Suddenly, Nigel was there, pulling on him, along with two grooms, grunting as they tried to haul him off the bloodied man.

He only blinked and looked around.

A crowd had gathered. And the dowager's houseguests were gawking at him with sagging mouths, their breaths smoky puffs on the cold night air.

Yet, he cared for none of them. His gaze sought only one...

And he found her, standing just inside the threshold. She was hugging herself but he somehow doubted it was the cold that made her embrace herself so tightly.

And her sister was standing beside her, gripping her arm in a gesture of support, as if he'd done something wrong.

For once she looked pale...

Her face lacked it's usual colour beneath her sun-browned skin. And her freckles stood out in stark relief.

Suddenly, something almost painful knifed near his heart.

She looked from him to Thomas, who was writhing on the ground. And when her gaze found him again, her eyes gleamed bright with disapproval.

However, he didn't flinch... he didn't show the slightest sign of regret for his actions.

If he had to do it again, he'd beat the bastard to a pulp once more for speaking of her so crudely...

For hurting her.


The prince stared at Gwen, wiping the blood from his lip with the back of his hand, indifferent to all who watched him and what they thought of the Crown Prince of Camelot tussling in the dirt outside an inn like a common peasant.

Nigel growled close to his ear,

"Have you gone mad? People are watching!"

"Let them watch."

He took a step, intent on reaching Gwen, when she turned with a sudden jerk and went back inside, dismissing him.

And then he recalled with bitter clarity that she wanted nothing more to do with him.

He stopped and glanced around at the crowd of avid spectators and took a bracing breath. For now... He'd let her go for now. He'd let her think they were finished. He wouldn't risk her reputation by chasing after her, even if every fiber of his being was urging him to do so.

But they weren't even close to being finished. And she'd know that soon enough.


Gwen fled inside to the small parlour where she'd attended Thomas earlier.

She stood at the window and stared out at the snow, seeing and unseeing at the same time.

Thomas was now being assisted to a bed somewhere inside the inn. Because of Arthur...

Because of her.

When she awoke this morning she could not have imagined such an incredible scenario.

Holy hellfire!

She closed her eyes in a tight blink and tried to summon a speck of guilt for that fact, but she could only marvel upon why Arthur would do such a thing.

She could, however, guess at the ugly things Thomas had said about her if the prince confronted him, and she knew enough about Arthur to know that honour drove him to protect those harmed...be it with words or a raised fist.

Even though she'd ended their affair, she knew he would feel honour-bound to defend her.

Affair...

It seemed silly to even call it that. Did one night constitute an affair? And yet at the same time it seemed wholly inadequate, too.


"Gwen?"

Elizabeth hesitantly called her name from the threshold.

She turned to face her.

"Are you all right? What happened?"

Alas, even she didn't know how to answer that. She inhaled a steadying breath, her fingers lightly thrumming against her lips...

"Nothing. We're going home, Elizabeth. Back to London."

Her sister nodded, looking at her as if she feared she might have lost her mind.

"I know that."

"We're going back to town." She ceased playing with her mouth and dropped her hand. "And I'm going to find a husband. No more hanging about ferns."

Elizabeth arched a jet black brow.

"Indeed?"

"Yes. Indeed."

She was done dragging her feet. The quicker she wed someone else, the sooner she could forget about Prince Arthur Pendragon.


Hey all, I want to thank you for your concern and your comforting words. This has been a rough time but I'll get through it. Everyone does, only at different stages. Anyway, I appreciate you all and I hope this update finds you and yours happy and in great health. Much love to you.

Stay safe!