Lord of Fire,Lady of Ice(131)

“Yea.” He took a contemplative bite of bread, frowning slightly at the pile of torn cheese mold. His gaze hardened and his mouth formed into a grim line of hatred. “It was delivered this morn.”

“How did you do it? What if he does not see it?” She didn’t want to seem overly anxious so she took a small bite of the exceedingly salty venison. The meat was dry and hard to chew. Della looked for a way to spit it out without being obvious. Finding nothing, she was forced to swallow the offensive morsel with a gulp of the sour ale.

“Serilda used the secret entrance. She said it was easy, for none of the men were about the bailey yard. Methinks they must be looking for you.” Stuart suddenly frowned and fingered his goblet. “Do not worry your pretty head about the details. I will protect you. It will be over tonight.”

“But what if Brant, uh, Lord Blackwell is not back from the king’s campaign? We should give him more time.”

“He is back. Cedric watches the castle.” Stuart took another pensive bite. He narrowed his eyes as he watched her for any sign of disloyalty. She concentrated on keeping her face icily calm.

Della nodded slowly and forced a smile, praying he could not read the pain in her heart. “You have thought of everything. So, when do we leave for the large oak?”

“We?” Stuart laughed. Leaning over, he patted her hand, which had fallen indifferently from the food to the table. “Oh, Della, do you think I would put you in harm’s way? I love you too much for that. I am sure everything will go as planned, but I will not risk you.”

Della tried not to visibly gag. She pulled from his grasp and moved to take another bite. Her hand trembled violently and she buried it in her lap. “But methought you wanted me to see—”

“You will not see him alive again.” Stuart interrupted her with a silencing wave of his hand, leaving no room for argument. “I merely said you would see his severed head. I would not force you to watch anything as atrocious as a beheading. I know well how such things have hurt you in the past. Your heart is too soft for this world, so I will protect you from it.”

All I need protecting from is you, dear cousin.

Della cringed inwardly, drawing her emotions as far away from him as she could until her mind and body became numb to the pain he caused her. She hated how he claimed to be protecting her. Acknowledging him with a curt nod, she suddenly wished she had been more conscientious of the secrets she told him as a child.

Stuart looked at her side of the trencher. “Of that you may be certain.”

“Then you will face him alone?” Della leaned over, trying to draw his attention away from her uneaten meal. He had already threatened to force feed her if she continued to starve herself.

Breathless, she waited for him to answer her. If Stuart was to fight Brant, fair and alone, there was a small hope they both would come out of the fray unharmed. Her cousin would be no match for her husband with the sword and Brant, being merciful, might let Stuart live so she could get him help. Even now, she did not wish her cousin dead.

“Nay, I will send Cedric and William. They are warriors and know naught else. I am a nobleman of cunning and wit. There is no need for me to fight. Battle is for the mindless drones who cannot think for themselves. This is a new age we are upon, Della. There is no need for leaders to fight.” Stuart rose from the table, stretched his hands over his head and yawned. “Yea, they will go. I will stay with you, for you might have need of me as Serilda works.”

Della shivered, getting his meaning. Tears threatened her eyes and she rubbed them viciously with the back of her hand. She forced herself to yawn so she might hide her face. They meant to take her husband and baby at the same time. “William?”

“You have not been introduced to him.” Stuart dismissed. “There has been no need for it.”

Della nodded, afraid to ask why. She said no more as she turned solemnly back to her meal. Under Stuart’s probing gaze, she took a bite and then another until he finally left her alone in the chamber. When he was gone, she vomited into the corner, sobbing silently. Then, falling to the floor, she hit her fist against the dirt, unable to fight, unable to push her body up.

May God be with you, Brant, and my heart also.





Chapter Twenty Four




Della sensed, without looking, that the evening would be wet and gloomy, just like her soul. She rubbed her stomach, trying to keep from resting her hand protectively over her child when Stuart was around. His eyes were always on her and a few times he’d even asked about it. She put him off the best she could with a halfhearted smile, but could tell he was suspicious. He refused to leave her alone and there had been no chance of escaping within the last hours of waiting.