Hawk's gaze dropped back to his hand. He studied it for a moment, then glanced up at Grimm and said carefully, "I'm going alone. If she couldn't even be bothered to see if I lived or died, perhaps it's time I quit trying. At the very least, some distance may help me gain perspective."
Grimm nodded stiffly. "You're sure you can travel with that wound?"
"You know I heal quickly. I'll stop at the Rom camp and get some of the camomile and comfrey poultice they use—"
"But to ride?"
"I'll be fine, Grimm. Stop worrying. You're not responsible." Hawk didn't miss the bitter smile on Grimm's face. It comforted him somewhat to know that his friend was so loyal when his own wife couldn't be bothered to care if he was dead or alive. "You're a true friend, Grimm," Hawk said softly. He wasn't surprised when Grimm hurried from the room. In all the years he'd known him, words of praise had always made the man uncomfortable.
* * * * *
In the Peacock Room's massive bed, Adrienne tossed restlessly, maddeningly awake. At this moment she was quite certain she would never sleep again. Her mind would never find respite from the bitter, icy clarity that raged through her brain, recoloring her every action since she'd arrived at Dalkeith a vastly different hue.
* * * * *
Hawk and Grimm rode out as dawn rose over the lush fields of Dalkeith. Satisfaction surged through Hawk as he surveyed his home. With his years of service to the king finally at an end, he could at last see to the needs of his people and be the laird he was born to be. Now he wanted just one more thing—for Adrienne to truly be a wife to him in every sense of the word, to help govern Dalkeith by his side. More than anything he wanted to see their sons and daughters walk this land.
Hawk cursed himself for a hopeless romantic fool.
"The harvest will be rich this Samhain," Grimm remarked.
"Aye, that it will, Grimm. Adam." Hawk nodded curtly to the smithy, who was approaching, the field of gold parting for his dark form.
"You're leaving the game? You admit defeat, dread Hawk?" Adam gazed mockingly up.
"Don't goad the devil, smithy," Grimm warned tersely.
Adam laughed. "Bedevil the devil and devil be damned. I fear no devil and bow to no man. Besides, this concerns you not, or little at least—certainly not so much as you appear to think. You vastly overrate yourself, gruff Grimm." Adam held the Hawk's gaze, smiling. "Fear not, I will care for her in your absence."
"I won't let him near her, Hawk," Grimm hastened to assure him.
"Yes you will, Grimm," Hawk said carefully. "If she asks for him you will let him near her. Under no other circumstances."
Adam nodded smugly. "And ask she will. Again and again in that husky, sweet morning voice she has. And Grimm, you might tell her for me that I have coffee from the Rom for her."
"You will not tell her that!" Hawk snapped.
"Are you trying to limit my contact?"
"I did not agree to provide you with a messenger! Yet—what will be will surely be. My guard stands for her, but it's you I will look to if she comes to harm."
"You give her into my keeping?"
"Nay, but I will hold you responsible if harm should befall her."
"I would never let harm come to any woman of mine—and she is mine now, fool Hawk."
"Only in as much as she wants to be so," the Hawk said softly. And if she does, I will kill both of you with my bare hands and rest easier at night, dead inside.
"You are either impossibly cocky or incredibly stupid, dread Hawk," the smithy said with scorn. "You will return to find the flawless Adrienne in my arms. Already, she spends most afternoons with me in your gardens—soon she will spend them in my bed," Adam taunted.
The Hawk's jaw clenched, his body tensed for violence.
"She didn't ask for you, Hawk," Grimm reminded tonelessly, shuffling from foot to foot.
"She didn't ask for him, captain of the guard?" Adam asked brightly. "Captain of honor, captain of truth?"
Grimm flinched as Adam's dark gaze searched his. "Aye," he said tightly.
"What a tangled web we weave…" Adam drawled slowly, the hint of a smile on his burnished face.
"What passes now between the two of you, Grimm?" Hawk asked.
"The smithy's a strange man," Grimm muttered.
"I would wish you Godspeed, but I believe God suffers little, if any, commerce with men such as us. So I wish you only a warrior's farewell. And never fear, I shall keep safe the lovely Adrienne," the smithy promised as he patted Hawk's stallion on the rump.
Shadows flickered behind the Hawk's eyes as he took his leave. "Watch her, Grimm. If there are any more attempts on her life, send word to me at Uster," he called over his shoulder as he rode away. His guards could keep her alive, in that he felt secure. But now there would be nothing to keep her from Adam.