“I did not wed.”
“Because the lout denied you and your son!” Armand accused. He halted his mount and turned it sideways, blocking Genevieve’s path. “You lay with him in hopes that he would wed you instead, did you not?”
“I was young. I thought perhaps—”
Armand silenced her explanation with the back of his hand, and Simone could not help but scream. Armand did not so much as glance in her direction, but instead watched Genevieve sway and grab for her pommel.
“Little whore,” he spat. He pointed his horse forward again, only to glance back a moment later. “How fare thee, my love?”
“I am fine,” Genevieve choked out from behind her hand.
A chill raced over Simone’s body at the blatant display of madness. Armand obviously no longer had control over his impulses, and it worried Simone greatly. With this erratic behavior, he was likely to kill either woman at any time, without provocation or warning.
“It would have been perfect for us,” Armand continued. “Because of your indiscretion, your father was as eager to be rid of you as you were to be away from him. No one would have you, save me. Your dowry was to pay the taxes on our home. I even went so far as to remove the taint of your bastard.”
“His name is Tristan,” Genevieve said sharply, and Simone cringed. “You stole him from me!”
“You stole my c-coin!”
“’Twasmycoin!” Genevieve accused. “I thought my son was dead. I thoughtyouwere dead!”
“Yea, well, ’twas actually the king’s coin once we were wed.” Armand glanced over his shoulder. “Calm yourself, lovely wife—you’re becoming overly distraught. In any matter, you nearly killed me in your revenge, and your son has since been returned to you. I met him in London, you know, although I did not know ’twas him at the time. Ox of a man.”
Genevieve did not answer, and Simone’s stomach turned at Armand’s blasé retelling of the abduction of Nick’s brother.
“When the king heard of my…misfortune, he took pity on me and paired me with Portia of Saint du Lac. Her parents were recently dead, and her family’s home would have passed to the crown did she not wed. The king bid her care for me until I was well in exchange for keeping her place in her home. I did not know she was already with child by a common shopkeep, Jehan Renault. It would seem that is a pattern with me, is it not? Wedding women who have born another man’s child.”
Genevieve turned to look back at Simone, shock evident on her face. Simone could do naught but return the lady’s stare.
Armand continued. “What with the beggarly funds Portia allowed me, I scoured all of Europe looking for you, my sweet, to no avail. But then!” Armand said in a loud whisper, holding one finger aloft. “Fortune did smile upon me, at last. As I passed the eve in a tavern in Paris, an old deckhand regaled me with a tale of the loveliest woman he’d ever seen. ‘Hair of gold,’ he said. ‘Eyes like a tropic sea.’ She was scared, fled France on their ship in the dark of night. And I knew it was you, my love. I knew, at last, where you had flown to.”
“But how did you know where to find me?” Genevieve insisted. “How did you know of Nicholas? After I married Richard, I spent my days at Hartmoore, rarely traveling to London at all.”
“A delightful coincidence, I assure you,” Armand chuckled. “In truth, when Simone wed your son, I had no idea you were his mother. I only discovered it after they had departed London for your home. I arrived as quickly as I could, to see it with my own eyes, my sweet, my most precious treasure.” He halted his mount abruptly. “Here we are, then. This should do nicely.”
Simone had been so enraptured by Armand’s macabre tale that she hadn’t noticed the forbidding square tower of Withington’s bleak convent through the trees. She knew the inn lay just beyond the fringes of wood, but this was still too far—Armand would never let her out of sight long enough to reach the inn.
Armand dismounted and walked to help Genevieve down. “We’ll rest here awhile. Once night has fallen, we’ll pass through the village and be on our way.”
Eldon appeared at Simone’s side and unceremonially dragged her off her horse and dumped her against the nearest tree. Genevieve joined her there, her hands having been secured.
“Eldon and I shall set about procuring us a repast,” Armand said, bowing before Genevieve as if she were royalty and then turning to join the other man who was gathering wood for a fire.
“Armand,” Simone called. When he paused, irritation clear on his twisted face, she asked, “Might our restraints be loosened? I have need to seek some bushes.”
“I think not, little sneak,” Armand tsk-ed and wagged a finger at her. “Once we have seen to the preparations, Eldon or I will accompany you. We are too close to the village for you to be traipsing about the woods unescorted.” He smile was oily, insincere. “Who knows what mischief you might encounter?” And then he moved away from them.
Simone looked to Lady Genevieve and saw the woman’s cold, deadly eye on Armand. With the dried blood at her mouth and her hair askew, the woman looked more than a little crazed herself.
Haith entered Minerva’s chamber at Hartmoore, Isabella fussing in her arms. Her great-aunt lay sleeping, propped on her bolsters, and Haith was struck by how small and frail she looked. Two fat candles barely lit the chamber in the early evening gloam, and out of the corner of her eye she saw the gray phantasm that was Didier tumbling through the air toward her. She instinctively threw up a warding hand, and the silvery mass flew back into a far corner of the bedchamber, causing Haith’s breath to frost and her heart to beat faster.
Isabella wailed.
“I know, lass, I know,” Haith cooed distractedly. She approached the bed and touched Minerva’s shoulder. “Minerva,” she called softly. The old one stirred and mumbled a bit of unintelligible Gaelic. “Minerva.”
Her eyes fluttered open reluctantly. “Och, what is it, faery? The lad’s nearly worn me out.”
“I know, I’m sorry,” Haith said, trying to keep her composure. “Have you seen Lady Simone or Lady Genevieve? I’ve searched the whole of the keep and can find them not. Genevieve’s chamber was bolted from within, but she was not there.”
