He wasn’t an usher. He carried himself like nobility, with an undercurrent of vanity. And wasn’t his gait that bit more assured? She would have sworn in the hall he had limped. What was his relationship with her sister?
She looked at Bied, but she only gaped at the man, as if not expecting his question. Interesting...
Waving around the contents, Margery said, ‘They’re all his chests. Except for the two gowns, everything here is his.’
‘Where does he keep his papers?’ Louve said. ‘Messages?’
Margery pointed. ‘He writes everything there.’
Louve shook his head. ‘When he receives messages, where do they go?’
Enough questions. Her sister now looked perturbed. Was it possible these two were working together? But this man was beautiful and her sister... Her sister did not trust men—any of them. Especially men who looked like him and held themselves like him.
‘You’re not an usher,’ she said.
He slammed a lid closed. Opened another box. ‘Tell me.’
This man might not have been truthful to her sister. Except her sister looked at Louve as if she did trust him.
When Bied nodded at Margery, she continued. ‘The messenger makes an odd knock on that door,’ Margery said. ‘A guard opens it. I have to turn my back and face that window until Ian tells me I can turn again.’
‘Except you’ve watched,’ he said.
Of course she had. He was holding her life to ransom. For no purpose. She had no coin to pay him, no connections for him to use. ‘A bit...when I didn’t turn fast enough. He doesn’t like that.’
‘Where else can I look for a piece of parchment about this size, with drawings? Something beautiful and colourful,’ asked Louve.
Margery shook her head. ‘There’s nothing like that here. Trust me, I’ve searched. He doesn’t leave the messages here, I don’t know what he writes, and as for anything else I’ve upturned this place every day, looking for anything to get me out.’
‘Does Lord Warstone talk in his sleep?’
All the time. Though he never slept with her, she could hear him talk of his wife, his children... The vulnerability in his voice was disconcerting when it came from the same man who had sliced against her palm with a knife and threatened her life every day.
‘Not about papers,’ she said carefully.
Louve’s expression darkened. ‘What, then? And be quick about it.’
‘It’s none of your concern.’
‘Nothing about papers...nothing about gems?’ Louve asked.
He hadn’t answered any of her questions. Why should she be harangued like this? Her sister was watching both of them and staying silent, which wasn’t like her at all. Had this man threatened her life to keep her silence?
‘Nothing that should concern an usher, only a wife,’ she said.
With one last measured gaze at Margery, Louve strode back to the window, peered one way and then the other, cursed, and then gave out a huff of amusement.
Margery kept her gaze on her sister. ‘Why are you here?’
‘Won’t you ask him what he wants with those questions?’ Bied said.
‘I’ve been in this room for far too long and I am certain it’s safer not to ask.’
‘I brought her here—I’ll keep you both safe,’ Louve announced.
Margery doubted that. He was conceited... Arrogant. This Louve acted like every man she’d ever met, with the exception of Evrart. What was her sister doing with him?
Turning her back on Louve who was looking out of the window again, she whispered, ‘Why are you in the fortress?’
‘You sent me a message,’ Bied said. ‘You said you were in danger.’
It was just as she’d feared! ‘That message was for our brothers—not for you.’
Bied swallowed. ‘Who has always helped you in the past?’
Margery shook her head. She had written to her sister to keep her away. She’d even said how pleased she was to have captivated Ian’s attention. All for nothing—because she was here. They weren’t children anymore, and this wasn’t just a few bruises from a game of throwing hammers!
‘With my bumps and bruises,’ she said. ‘How can you be so reckless as to come here?’
The usher snorted behind them. Margery ignored it.
‘Me reckless?’ Bied said. ‘I warned you of Lord Warstone. Nothing you said in your message eased any of my concerns. All you talked about was how handsome he was...how charming.’
Margery gasped. Bied had warned her? Had she replied to the message she’d sent? If she had, Roul might have it. She couldn’t think of that. It didn’t matter as long as Ian hadn’t intercepted it.
‘Is that why you’re here? I only said all that for your sake.’
Bied looked aghast. ‘What?’
How to talk about this when they’d never had a true conversation about the other men? About the fact she’d left their tiny village because she had known her sister protected her, because she hadn’t wanted to be a burden?
That was her fault. But it was Louve’s fault she couldn’t truly talk now. She didn’t dare have such a painful conversation in front of him. She’d have to tell only some of the truth.
‘If I had told you I was involved with a man for the coin, for his connections—which all exist, mind you—would you have let me go?’
Eyes narrowing, Bied tilted her head. ‘So...you’re not broken-hearted?’
No, she was terrified. ‘Absolutely not.’
‘You put yourself in this danger for nothing?’
Margery glanced at Louve, who’d gone back to the first window to look out. She didn’t want to talk of this now, but maybe now was all they had.
‘You aren’t nothing,’ she said. ‘Our family isn’t nothing. You work and give coin to Mother and to the others. Yet you save nothing for yourself. And what Lord Warstone promised me...well...’
‘You did this for me?’
She would do anything for her family including stretching the facts to protect them.
‘I knew he was different from the others,’ she said. ‘I heard rumours he was dangerous, but his offer was enough to truly make a difference. Especially for Mabile, who wrote to me and—’
‘Mabile!’ Bied said. ‘Why didn’t anyone tell me?’
There. More facts, more stories. More matters to straighten and understand. But what had Bied been doing while she had been locked up in a fortress? They would need to talk soon.
However, telling her sister anything now, with Louve listening, didn’t sit well. She didn’t know him, and he wasn’t Evrart. Maybe when it was finally safe, when they were far away from Ian, she’d let her sister know she didn’t need her protection, that Ian was mad, and that she was sorry the family had had to sacrifice so much for her. That because of her birth her father had left, her mother had broken. All those words and more—but later. Not now. She didn’t trust prying eyes or ears.
‘I don’t know why she told me instead of you, but in truth we never know where you go until you write to us. And I’ve been here for so long.’ Margery eyed the door and sighed. It seemed forever since she’d received that letter from Mabile.
‘What is happening to Mabile?’ asked Bied.
With a glance to Louve, Margery said, ‘She’s pregnant again and she did so poorly before. She won’t be able—’
‘You have only moments,’ Louve interrupted.
Louve might look as if he was occupied by events outside, but she knew he listened. She was wise not to trust him—wise not to tell everything. Just enough to shield her sister. To get her out of this room and back to safety. Away from Ian.
Away from Louve.
Except he not only looked out of the windows, he also looked back at her sister. He looked angry, determined, but also concerned. She was right not to trus
t him, but it was clear her sister did.
‘Louve truly is protecting us,’ she whispered. ‘I’m curious now—who is he?’
‘I don’t know,’ Bied said. ‘He’s lying.’
Louve cleared his throat, and this time Margery gave him her full attention. Though he might not deserve it. Bied had said Louve was lying, but her words had held no bite. If she had to guess at their relationship, she’d say they were close. She prayed he was good to Bied.
‘Are you poisoning the ale?’ he said.
Not what she’d expected. ‘What?’
‘She wouldn’t do that.’
Bied immediately stood in front of her, her hands on her hips. Margery could hardly see the man trying to stare her down.
‘There are casks that are poisoned. Are you,’ Louve asked, ‘or is someone you know, putting poison in the ale?’
Margery placed her hand on her sister’s arm. Bied lowered her hands and stepped to the side. She truly adored her sister, but right now this was her battle. Although it was one she didn’t understand. What ale had she had lately...? Oh, the ale last night had tasted off.
‘Is that what’s wrong with it?’
Bied turned to her. ‘You didn’t drink any of it, did you?’
Margery shook her head. ‘It was vile. I’ve been drinking wine ever since.’
‘And how is your hand?’ Bied asked.
How many of her cuts and bruises had her sister repaired? Many.
Smiling, Margery raised it. ‘Wrapped. It was only a shallow cut.’
Bied gave her a quick hug...which hurt. Margery flinched.
Bied flung herself away. ‘You are hurt! Let’s get you out of here. You need to rest, to heal.’
No, there was no fixing this—and Margery was all too aware that Louve kept on watching them. This wasn’t a conversation she wanted to have in front of him, because she knew why she hurt.
‘It’s not what you think,’ she said.
‘You wrote that letter,’ Bied said. ‘You have a swollen lip, and goodness knows what else, and you tell me it’s not what I think?’
It was from being held by Evrart. Did he care for her? Love her? Was he truly keeping them apart because he wanted her safe? Foolish man! They, too, needed to talk.
‘It is just that.’
Bied tapped her foot. ‘I came here to rescue you.’
‘I can see that,’ she said. ‘Though you were supposed to send someone else.’
‘When it comes to the family, I’ve always come to your aid.’
Now they were back to this—but better to discuss her sister’s overprotection and not Evrart and the fierce way he held her.
‘Except this time I need someone who can use a weapon against trained men. You can’t fight any of these warriors.’
‘If you needed a sword, you should have said,’ Bied said. ‘I would have found one—or some weapon. Or...’
How long would this man Louve tolerate a conversation between two stubborn sisters?
‘I thought that the words “truly dangerous” would be enough. I found that tiny scrap of paper and I had to take the chance. Ian’s wealthy, but he doesn’t leave blank parchment around.’
‘I can see them in the woods,’ Louve announced. ‘The party could be on a chase, or on its way back.’
This was dangerous. Louve was no usher, and her sister no cook. She was no mistress. And the man who could kill them all was returning.
‘He’s no usher,’ Margery said, eyeing Louve.
‘He can organise a household,’ Bied replied.
Again there was no bite to her sister’s voice. This man wasn’t what he appeared, but he meant something to her sister. Over her sister’s shoulder she caught Louve’s look before he turned away. Ah. There was concern, but something more... Respect. Want. This man desired her sister. Did her sister want him?
‘That’s good for you, then, since you’re so terrible.’ Margery winked.
Her sister huffed, and Margery couldn’t help but laugh.
‘You need to pack,’ Louve said.
What? She looked to Bied, then to Louve. Then to the door, where it was suspiciously quiet. Had the guards disappeared? Why would she need to pack?
‘I’m not going anywhere.’
Louve tore his eyes away from the window to look at her. ‘Say that again.’
‘I’m not going anywhere without Evrart.’ Or at least not without truly talking to him first.
‘Evrart!’ Bied exclaimed. ‘Lord Warstone is the one who has kept you trapped.’
‘He had—he is!’ Margery said, hating that she must say what needed to be said. Her sister deserved more than lies! ‘He was terribly charming at first, but in the time we’ve been here he’s become distracted. And he’s never asked me... Which I’m grateful for. But it has all been very frightening. I had to send that note.’
‘They are returning,’ Louve said. ‘Balthus is alive.’
Balthus...wasn’t he Ian’s youngest brother? Evrart hadn’t mentioned he arrived along with his parents this morning, and why would Louve sound relieved?
‘Alive?’ Bied was concentrating completely on the usher, who looked suddenly irritated.
‘I meant Balthus is riding with them,’ Louve said, striding to the door. ‘The first of the guards have cleared the woods and there’s someone travelling with them I don’t recognise. Lord Warstone can’t be far behind now. We have to go. There’s no time to pack.’
Ah. Balthus rode with Ian. Did it matter? No. What mattered was that her sister and this man needed to leave this room.
‘I’m not leaving.’
Bied looked to Louve. ‘Help me.’
Margery wanted to say the same. She knew her sister didn’t understand, but there was no time to explain.
Louve looked to her. ‘I don’t think your sister is understanding.’
‘And you are?’ Bied said. ‘What is this?’
‘Your sister wants to be away from Ian, but not from this man...’ Louve said.
‘Evrart,’ Margery supplied.
Had Louve guessed what Evrart meant to her? His lashes half hid a gleam that made her want to look away. Had he guessed why she had bruises?
‘Where’s Evrart now?’ Bied asked.
‘With Ian,’ Margery said.
‘Why does he matter?’ Bied said.
‘He doesn’t,’ said Louve. ‘We’ve got to go.’
‘No!’ Bied said. ‘None of this makes sense.’
Margery stepped back. No, Louve couldn’t know what Evrart meant—which was a relief, because that meant there was a chance that Ian also didn’t know. But he had guessed, and quite accurately, that there was a relationship between them.
He had also searched Ian’s chests and befriended her sister, who had reported Louve was lying. If Margery had been brought here because of Ian and his games, it was entirely possible Louve was here for the same reason. She didn’t know how that tied in with her sister, who wanted to rescue her. But she wouldn’t know unless she asked.
‘What deal did Ian make with you, usher? He negotiates like the devil.’
Louve grinned, but it didn’t reach his eyes. ‘He said I could have you if you left the rooms. Since I had Bied, since she’d had that message from you, and since I knew you loved your sister, it seemed as though I couldn’t lose.’
Margery hugged her arms around herself and looked to the ground. Nothing was truly clear, but she could make some guesses of her own. Louve and Ian liked to play games, and she and her sister were here because of them.
‘Who is Evrart?’ Bied said.
‘He’s Ian’s personal guard,’ Louve announced.
‘That brute?’ Bied gasped.
‘Don’t!’ Margery lashed out with her arm, but quickly pulled it back. She hated it that Evr
art was being talked of this way, but it wasn’t her sister’s fault. ‘Don’t say anything bad about him. He’s a good man and he has had a trying time with his appearance.’
Louve went back to the window. ‘They’re coming through the gates now, but it looks as though they want to attend to their horses. Odd...but we’ll take it. Explain, Margery—and fast. Your sister won’t leave this room otherwise.’
‘I beg to differ!’ Bied said. ‘I’ll leave within half a heartbeat if she explains herself!’
Margery kept her eyes on Louve. He cared. He cared for her sister, who obviously didn’t hate him. Margery hoped he cared enough to keep her safe from Ian. Like...like Evrart wanted to do with her.
Evrart. She missed that man, and though she didn’t know his feelings, she was certain of hers.
‘I’m in love.’
Bied opened her mouth to speak. Closed it. Tried again. ‘Are you jesting?’
Foolish choice of words. In the past, to make her choices more palatable for Bied, Margery had written and told her that she was with Josse and then Roul because of love. Now...now she had to tell the truth.
So little time!
‘Truly, this time,’ Margery said. ‘We tried to fight it. Ian wouldn’t approve, and there is danger to us both! Then it seemed Ian turned a blind eye and it...happened.’
‘Ian didn’t turn a blind eye,’ Louve said.
Ice slid down Margery’s spine. ‘What do you mean?’
Louve glanced to Bied, shook his head once. When he looked back at her, she saw his expression... Gone was the arrogance and self-assurance. Instead he looked as if he was about to tell her the worst of news.
‘He likes to watch.’
Margery shivered. He couldn’t mean what she thought... ‘You don’t mean that.’
With a look of apology, Louve dipped his chin and looked away.
She would be sick—or worse. They’d only been together once, in the bedroom. But Ian had been there? Evrart had voiced his concern because the man had returned early, but Margery had thought it too far-fetched that he would have caught them and not said something.
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