No one answered her.
"What sacrifice?" she repeated tersely. "Does he mean Esmerelda?" When no one responded, she shook Rushka by the arm. "Does he?" Her eyes flew back to Adam. "Who are you?" she demanded, her eyes narrowing like a mother bear's as she prepared to defend her cubs.
Rushka dragged her against him. "Be still, milady," he gritted. "Do not interfere in that which you don't understand."
"Don't tell me what I—" Lydia began heatedly, then shut her mouth beneath the Hawk's lethal gaze.
Hawk turned back to Adrienne and calmly raised his hands to help her dismount, as though nothing were amiss.
Adam laughed again, and it made Hawk's skin crawl. "She goes with me, Lord Buzzard."
"She stays with me. She is my wife. And it's Hawk. Lord Hawk to you."
"Nay. A vulture, a sad scavenger to pick over the unwanted remains, Lord Buzzard. She chooses was the deal made, do you recall? I saved your wife for a price. The price is now paid. You've lost."
"Nay." The Hawk shook his head slowly. "She chose already, and'twas me she chose."
"It would appear she unchose you," Adam mocked.
"Get off my horse, smithy. Now."
"Hawk!" Rushka warned, low and worried.
"Hawk." It was Adrienne's voice that stilled him. Froze him in mid-step toward the smithy. Until now, the Hawk had been focusing his attention and anger on the smithy. And he knew why. It was the same reason he had delayed turning around when he heard the horses approaching. The reason why he'd looked at Rushka instead. He was afraid to look at his wife, of what he might see in her lovely eyes. Might she truly have unchosen him? Could he have been so completely wrong? He paused, hand on his sword hilt, and forced his eyes to hers. The insecurity that had seized him the very first day he'd found his wife at the smithy's forge reclaimed him with a vengeance.
Her face was smooth and void of emotion. "He speaks the truth. I have chosen him."
Hawk gaped at her, stunned. Not so much as a flicker of emotion in her silver eyes. "How is he making you lie, lass?" Hawk refused to believe her words, clinging to his faith in her. "What is he threatening you with, my heart?"
"Nothing," Adrienne said coldly, "and stop calling me that! I have never been your heart. I told you that from the beginning. I don't want you. It was Adam all along."
Hawk searched her face. Cool, composed, she sat the mare like a queen. Regal and untouchable. "And just what the hell was Uster, then?" he growled.
She shrugged, her hands palms up. "A vacation?" she replied flippantly.
Hawk tensed, his jaw gritting. "Then just what were the stables this afternoon—"
"A mistake," Adam cut him off flatly. "One she won't be repeating."
Hawk's gaze never wavered from Adrienne's. "Was it a mistake?" he asked softly.
Adrienne inclined her head. A pause the length of a heartbeat. "Yes."
The Hawk saw not so much as a flicker in her face. "What game play you, lass?" he breathed, danger emanating from every inch of his rigid stance, charging the air around them.
The night hung still and heavy. On the ridge not one person moved, riveted to the terrible scene unfolding.
"No game, Hawk. It's over between us. Sorry." Another nonchalant shrug.
"Adrienne, stop jesting—" he growled.
"'Tis no jest," she interrupted him with sudden anger. "The only joke here is on you! You didn't really think I could stay here, did you? I mean, come on!" She waved a hand dismissively at the splendor of the wedding feast. "I'm from the twentieth century, you fool. I'm used to luxuries. It's the little things that spoil. Coffee. Steaming showers, limousines, and all the glitter and hubbub. This was a lovely diversion—quite a little getaway with some of the most fascinating men…" She smiled at Adam, and it took every ounce of the Hawk's will not to leap at the smithy and choke the life from his arrogant body.
Instead, he stood like a marble effigy, hands curled at his side. "You were a virgin—"
"So? You taught me pleasure. But the smithy gave me more. It's that simple." Adrienne fiddled with the reins of her mount.
"Nay!" Hawk roared. " 'Tis some game! What have you threatened my wife with, smithy?"
But it was Adrienne who answered, in that same calm, utterly detached voice. That husky voice that made him think he'd gone mad, for the words tumbling forth must surely be lies. Yet she didn't look as if she was being forced. There was no sword to her throat. No shimmer of tears in her eyes. And her voice, ah… it was level and calm. "He has threatened me only with greater pleasure than you ever gave me. He has true magic at his command. Don't waste your time hunting for us. You won't find us. He has promised to take me to places I've never dreamed existed." Adrienne nudged her mount closer to the smithy's.