“In doing this, my uncle thought to secure this land and title for his son. Soon after my mother’s death, Stuart’s mother died and he came to live with us. While they thought I was unconscious, I heard Serilda whispering about Stuart’s mother. Lord Grayson strangled his wife and told everyone it was an accident. Stuart was there when it happened. My uncle must have forced his son to Strathfeld to befriend me. Only, after Stuart got here, he came to like it. He always said he was the happiest when he was here. Methinks in some way, he did come to love me, but didn’t know what love was. His father didn’t teach him to love. Stuart could never please the man.
“Lord Grayson died before he could complete his scheming and Stuart continued on as he had been raised to do. After the news of our unexpected betrothment came to light, he had Serilda tend to my father’s wounds with poison.”
Della clutched her hands nervously together when he said nothing to her. Then she realized he was listening. She continued to pace back and forth. “It wasn’t even the Vikings who attacked my mother. It was the foreigners from the south. I don’t know why my father told me it was the Vikings. Mayhap it was something they found later. But they were looking for the wrong men. I don’t know why my father was convinced, but he was distraught, and Lord Grayson helped in the search. In fact, my uncle did most of the investigating. And William is just as responsible. Aside from my uncle, he was their leader.”
Della turned pleading eyes to her husband. “I must make you understand. They tortured her for pleasure. They could have just killed her and been done with it, but they tortured her.”
“If this is true, he will be hanged for the crime.” As he spoke, Brant’s words were low. He still hadn’t moved.
Della took a deep breath and forced herself on. “I wish to forget what happened. Forever. But if I must tell you everything, I will. I want there to be no more secrets between us. No more deceptions of any kind.”
“Della, untie me,” Brant said calmly.
“Nay.” She shook her head. “I have more to say to you and I cannot guarantee you will listen unless I make you. And you must listen.”
Della went to the bed and sat beside him. She laid a tender hand on her stomach. “I swear on all that is sacred to me—my mother, my father, our child. I did not plot with Stuart to have you killed. I did not plot to kill our unborn child. From the missive I wrote, you should have figured that out, but I understand why you doubt me and I forgive you for that doubt. I have said many harsh things and I hope in time you will be able to forgive me.”
Della prayed he understood. Looking at her stomach, she rubbed it gently. Tears fell from her tired eyes, for what had almost happened, and for what she’d almost lost. Unexpectedly, Brant’s strong fingers clasped her side. She gasped in surprise. He’d managed to free a hand. Pulling her, he swept her onto the bed so she rested on his restrained arm. His fingers curled around her throat, holding her down, but applying no pressure.
“Tell me why I should listen to you.” Brant brought his face close to hers. She trembled in his arms as his warmth invaded her throat. Her pulse raced beneath his strong fingers. His hard length pressed her into the bed. “Tell me why I should believe you.”
The fingers around her neck tightened slightly, but not enough to cause her harm. She swallowed, looking deep into his clear blue gaze. She shook with insecurity, even as her insides seemed to melt at his nearness. She ached with longing, wanting to stay forever in his arms, and she filled with the fear that he could not love her nor forgive her.
“Because,” Della whispered.
“Because, why? Because you have been so truthful in the past?”
“Nay.” Della pleaded with her eyes for him to understand, begging silently for him to believe her, to trust her. “Because I love you.”
“What?” Brant froze above her.
“I said you should believe me because I am in love with you. I have been since I first saw you, only I was too blinded by hatred to realize what I felt. And you were just so… aggravating. But I fell in love with you. I love you still.” Della inhaled sharply. Her body continued to quiver at his nearness. She’d said it, finally.
“I don’t believe you.” Brant looked like he wanted to trust her, but couldn’t. “You claim to have sent the missive to warn me, but how is throwing my words back at me a warning to me. You are a deceitful wench.”
“Your words?” Della repeated, confused. “Stuart must have switched missives. Nay, the missive I sent said that if the words of love you declared were true then to come alone. You never declared words of love to me. Thus you should have known I was lying. You should have known it was a trap. That’s why I sent you to the tree where my mother is buried. Surely, Roldan told you as much. I told you to ask him. So you would know that danger awaited you.”