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Lord of Fire,Lady of Ice(119)

By:Michelle M. Pillow


“At least Edwyn does not have to seek my permission before he lets people out of the castle, lest I might think I lived in a prison.” Della gave a short laugh.

“Is it not a prison, Della? Has your heart changed so quickly?”

“Stuart?” Della jolted in surprise, pushing up from the ground. Straightening to her full height, she dusted off her tunic gown as she glanced in the direction of the gate. From what she could see, the bailey was empty. She was alone with him. “You frightened me.”

“I did not mean to. You must have been lost in your thoughts not to have heard my approach.” Stuart took a leisurely step forward. A deliberate smile lingered on his face. Della wondered how long he’d watched her before making his presence known. Lowering his chin, he tilted his head thoughtfully, studying her. She shivered, but held her ground.

“How did you get in here? Gunther would not have let you pass. Lord Blackwell has forbidden it. Methinks he is still angry from your last visit.” Unable to take his intense gaze, she took an uneasy step back.

Stuart’s eyes were rimmed with dark circles and he looked like he hadn’t slept for some time. His chin held two day’s worth of whiskers, where he normally was clean-shaven and well kept. When he laughed, the sound was mocking. “Oh, yea, Lord Blackwell.” Stuart looked to the heavens as his laughter slowly died. He seemed unconcerned that any would hear him. When he turned back to her, his face appeared solemn. It was as if he decided the effort to smile was not worth it. “Your black-hearted husband.”

“Do not say such harsh things, cousin.” Della lifted her chin. He took a step toward her only to suddenly stop and laugh again. The sound twisted unevenly in the air until she was forced to back away from him in fear, inching along the ground.

“Nay? And why is that, pray tell?”

“Lord Blackwell is my husband and I have told you there is naught to be done about it.” The hairs on the back of her neck stood tall. Looking over his shoulder, she tried to find help. The yard was still empty. She took a deep breath and willed her heart to still. Keeping her voice calm, she asked, “How did you get in here?”

“You showed me. Remember?” Stuart snickered as his eyes traveled over her body. He licked his lips.

“Your moods change too quickly. It is odd, Stuart.” She continued to inch past him. “I did not show you the way, you merely saw me. I trusted you to know better than to use it. If you are caught within these walls, they will take you prisoner. You will be locked away until Lord Blackwell decides to set you free. It may be months—years even. Did anyone see you? If you hurry you can leave the way you came.”

“Nay.” He waved his hand in dismissal of the suggestion. “You think me odd, dear cousin? Surely that is of his influence. He has poisoned your mind against me.”

“Stuart—”

“And your body,” he snarled.

From their position, no one would be able to see her as well as if she were closer to the main gate—not that anyone knew to look for her. Cedric was left to tend to her and he would not search her out unless summoned. He was still angry with her for making him churn butter.

Stuart appeared to read her thoughts. “Nay, they are gone. Be assured. We will not be interrupted.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Della let the lie slip quietly from her lips. “Mayhap, if we get you out of the sun. Come, let us go inside for a draught of mead. Methinks it might help to cheer you. You look thin, cousin. Come, let me feed you before the men get back.”

“Do not play games, Della! I know how he has poisoned your mind. You don’t have to be afraid of him any longer. I know how you got that scrape on your face the first day I came back. I know he beat you in the hall for all to see. I know how he has humiliated you, disrespected you. I know of the whores he has slept with right under your nose. I am your friend, Della. I am here to help you. I have come to take you away from the heathen Vikings.” He held out his hand and motioned her to go with him. Glaring at her expectantly, he willed her to come to him. “I have come to claim your hand.”

“Nay, I stay with Strathfeld. It’s my home and my life.” She turned, intent on walking away. His words of Brant planted a small seed of doubt. If Stuart had heard tales of other women, did it mean it was true? Had Gunther lied to protect his friend? It would not be the first time a knight lied for his lord. Either way, this was a matter between her and her husband. It was not a reason to abandon her home or her people. She walked faster.

“Do you forget your own mother so soon?” Stuart sputtered in fury when she didn’t join him. “And for what? The lascivious touch of a godless barbarian?”