by Nicole Locke
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 Evrart 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.
And Evrart. That proud, gentle giant. That moment they’d shared had been special. Now it was tainted. Regardless of whether he wanted her again, the fact they had been watched when her mercenary was at his most vulnerable...
‘Oh, Evrart can’t ever know... I think I’m going to be sick.’
‘Your sister said that to me once.’ Louve glanced to Bied.
‘This is not the time for jests,’ Bied uttered. ‘Where are you getting this humour—and would you please choose a disposition?’ Bied pulled Margery’s hand into hers. ‘Margery, we have to go. Your lip is cut and you flinched at dinner. Lord Warstone is hurting you.’
She wanted to ask questions of Bied, but she recognised her sister’s expression. She wouldn’t leave unless she understood. ‘It’s not Lord Warstone. Evrart...his
personal guard...he’s big...and I don’t exactly... Do I have to explain this in front of him?’
‘No, you don’t,’ Louve said. ‘I understand.’
‘Yes, she does,’ Bied said. ‘Because I see her with a swollen lip. I see that my youngest sister has been hurt by some guard of Lord Warstone!’
Too many emotions clogged her throat. Too much worry. But she had to make her sister understand. Ian could be here at any moment.
‘Bied, it’s not what you’re thinking. He’s large. I jumped and we crashed. Please know that Evrart feels all the worst for it, but I... I don’t. You saw him act like an idiot, trying to cheer me...’
Bied flushed. ‘No more.’
‘It seems your sister likes more,’ Louve quipped.
At the sight of Bied taking umbrage against the man Margery giggled, then slapped a hand on her mouth. It made her lip sting, which was good. This wasn’t funny. Not at all. She was slowly unravelling from all the half-truths!
Bied took in a large breath and pointed at Margery’s hand. ‘Lord Warstone cut you in front of everyone. If you stay, how can you guarantee he won’t do it again?’
‘She can’t. That’s the Warstone way. Has it happened often?’ Louve asked.
How much to tell? Ian was a madman, threatening her life. He also mumbled late at night of his love for a wife long gone.
‘I don’t know him well enough, but Evrart says he’s been slipping.’
Bied gasped. ‘You surely can’t feel for him?’
‘If you heard Lord Warstone when he’s sleeping—’ Margery stopped. She would be as mad as him if she divulged so much.
Louve darted towards Bied and looked out through a different window. ‘They’ve left the stables. It’s time. I can’t guarantee what will happen if Ian sees us here. If we get trapped on that stairway, we’ll have trouble.’
‘What do we do?’ Bied said.
‘We leave her.’ Louve’s voice was absolutely full of certainty.
Bied shook her head. ‘We’ll all go. This... Evrart will follow.’
‘He can’t.’
Margery eyed Louve, who had repeated the same words. Someday she’d know the history of him...
Bied pointed at Louve. ‘What are you not telling me?’
‘He owes Lord Warstone a debt.’ Margery prayed her sister would understand. ‘Ian knows where Evrart’s family is.’
Bied took a step towards the door and shook her head once, then twice. ‘I didn’t come here for nothing.’
‘You have no weaponry...no training.’ Margery felt terrible at every flinch Bied gave. It was all the truth, and she needed to be brutal. ‘I wanted you to bring our brothers, who at least can fight. How are you supposed to get us past the guards? I’d hoped that with a few weapons and Evrart’s training, we would have a chance.’
Bied opened her mouth, closed it, then exhaled roughly.
‘Bied, if—’
‘You’ve been here for months,’ Louve interrupted. ‘Unless they’ve been trained by a demon himself, for years, nothing would give your brothers a chance.’
Margery looked away.
‘You must know that,’ Louve hissed.
‘When I told Evrart it was my sister in the great hall, he flew into a—’ Margery turned to Louve. ‘Oh, if Lord Warstone watches, does he hear?’
Louve gave one nod and then locked his eyes with Bied. ‘That means he knows who you are. We’re leaving.’
‘You truly care for him, don’t you?’ Bied said.
So much. And it appeared that this Louve not only cared for Bied but loved her.
‘I do. Swear to me that—’
‘No!’ Bied cried out. Louve seized her hands. ‘Stop grabbing my hands!’
He didn’t let go. ‘Not this time. Your sister is safe as long as Ian wants her to be. If we’re here when he enters the room, we’re dead. He’s been listening and he knows you are sisters. That’s why he wanted this game with me.’
‘Game?’ Bied said. ‘How many games can there be?’
‘Go. Go. Go.’ Margery pushed against her sister’s back. ‘I’ll find you. Ian can’t last forever. He’ll make a mistake.’
Margery kept pushing until Louve had got her safely outside the doors. The two guards there eyed them. Nothing was safe. Ian would be told. If he hadn’t overheard her and Evrart talking of Bied, he’d know there was a connection now.
And all she could do in this cursed room was wring her hands and lament!
Margery eyed the writing table with its parchments and quills. Or was there something else that could be done? Another message? And maybe this time her brothers would receive it...
Chapter Seventeen
Margery heard a door closing gently behind her. Hours had gone by since Bied had delivered her tray of food. She’d been escorted once to the garderobe, and she’d dragged her steps to look through the archways. There’d been many people in the courtyard. But no signs of Evrart, Ian or her sister.
Pretending to care, she’d asked the guards where Lord Warstone had gone earlier, and for once they’d answered. A hunt. The guards seemed excited by it, but what could they possibly hunt at that time of day?
Evrart hadn’t mentioned a hunt, but she’d started to guess with Louve’s comments about everyone returning. She still didn’t understand when or how Balthus arrived...or why him being alive would matter.
And she wouldn’t know being trapped here!
She had almost broken down when the latch had locked her in again. All she could do was listen to the castle filled with noise, and the shouts of many. Some of it merry, but the rest... Exhausted, terrified, she lay in the bed under the quilts. If nothing else she could warm her cold body. For how long, she didn’t know.
A distinct heavy footstep, one she could hardly hope for; Margery turned in the bed. Evrart stood in the doorway to his private rooms. His brows were drawn, his jaw locked, and after he blinked and broke their eye contact, he rolled one shoulder and straightened, as if he was holding himself in.
When she sat up, he took one stumbling step after another until he knelt by her bed as if his legs had given out. She didn’t care about anything except that Evrart was here. She didn’t know how he felt, but she knew her feelings.
Shoving away the covers, she slammed between his arms and burrowed herself into him, her nose in his neck, her legs around his waist, her hands gripping, gripping, gripping, trying somehow to get closer, to be safer.
He stiffened, then he groaned and tightened his arms right back before loosening them. Hating that, she pinched his arm, and with a murmur he wrapped his strong arms around her more securely. Not as satisfying as when he’d tightened them, but better. Better because he sank a bit more of his weight against her, and that she loved.
Except he held her a bit too long, breathed her in longer than that, and whatever relief she had felt because he was here disappeared.
Pulling herself up, she brushed his hair out of his face. ‘You’re here. Why?’
‘Margery, something’s happened.’
‘My sister?’
‘She’s well, and the usher has her.’
There had definitely been something between them. Her heart eased, but not by much. Not when Evrart kept looking at her as if the world had changed.
She kept brushing his hair, his cheek, his hand. His face was cold as if neither of them could get warm.
‘Tell me. Are you hurt?’
She plucked at his clothing and craned her neck around him. Felt the broadness of his back and his laboured breaths. His breath should be sure and steady, not shuddering through him as if he’d run up a mountain.
‘What happened?’
He tightened his lips. His eyes dimmed. ‘Nothing that I want touching you.’
She pushed on his shoulder. ‘We’ve talked about
this. I told you to stay safe. I told you to defend yourself. I can’t help you do that if you don’t tell me what is going on.’
‘I’m to keep you safe!’
She raised her chin. ‘Is that why you told me there was no future between us?’
His nostrils flared. ‘I’ll do what it takes—whatever it takes. I’ll protect you and that’s all you need to know.’
‘That’s it?’
Didn’t he realise she’d had enough of protection? Enough of being a prisoner at the whims of other people. She wanted to be right there by his side. Not watching him taking the brunt of it all.
She uncurled her legs and pushed off him. Kneeling before her, he was her height. With him staring directly at her it was hard, tapping her foot at her lover, but she’d do it if it would get her point across.
He slowly stood.
‘You have to tell me something or I’m walking out through those doors,’ she said.
‘They’re locked,’ he said.
‘Then I’ll go through your rooms.’
Evrart crossed his arms. ‘You’re not going.’
She waited for an explanation, and when he merely stared back, she darted.
He stuck out his arm and she smacked her head against his forearm.
Evrart cursed.
Holding her nose with one hand, she held out her other arm, warding him off. ‘Don’t you dare apologise.’
‘Why would you do that?’ he asked, prising her hand away from her face.
She could do nothing about the tears in the corners of her eyes. And her nose stung.
‘I told you what I would do,’ she said. ‘It’s you who stuck your arm out.’
He ran his roughened fingertips across her forehead, her temple. The scratch of his calluses soothed her. As did the concern in his eyes that she adored. He had to feel the way she did!
‘I’ll make this easy on you.’ She grabbed his hand. ‘Do you have any feelings for me at all?’
‘Any feelings?’ He swallowed. ‘No.’
She stepped back. What had she expected? She had told him she’d lain with men for coin, and even if he was different, he didn’t know what heartache she’d caused her family before that. She wasn’t worthy of him.
