“Take care of yourself,” she said. “Be careful.”
“I’ll see you,” he said, kissing her once more, “perhaps tomorrow. Certainly the day after. I should havedone this a week ago, Margaret.” He grinned. “Icould not tear myself away from our nightly feasts.”
She smiled, too. He needed smiles.
He opened the door and she stepped out onto the stairs and looked back at him. He hesitated for a moment, crossed to the bench, buckled about his waistthe sword belt that was lying there, settled the swordat his side, and then stepped out behind her.
“I’ll see you to the door into the passageway,” he said.
She did not argue. After all, he would be just as unsafe if she was discovered alone on the stairs as hewould if he were there with her. The wind was stillhowling about the tower, she could hear as she descended the stairs slowly. The candle threw strangeand shifting shadows on the walls. She felt a fear shehad not felt the last time when returning to her room.A fear and a foreboding.Go back,she wanted to tellhim.Let’s both go back.But perhaps only Daphnehad the feeling of impending doom. Margaret saidnothing.
She stopped when she reached the door into the passage. “Go back,” she said. “I am safe now.”
He kissed her, rubbed his nose against hers, smiled at her, and reached beyond her to open the door. Itswung outward. There was a man standing just beyondit, a rather stocky young man with a bared sword inhis right hand. Daphne did not know who he was butshe could guess.
“Sebastian!” Margaret said, stepping out into the passageway, hoping to block his view of Justin. “Icould not sleep. Have you ever heard such a dreadfulstorm?”
But with his left arm he brushed her aside so that her shoulder cracked rather painfully against the stonewall. He did not even look at her. He stepped throughthe doorway.
“I am decidedly slow,” he said. “It took me until today to realize that if I kept an eye on Margaret bynight as well as by day, she was bound to lead me toyou sooner or later. An hour and a half ago she wasstill in her bed. Five minutes ago she was not.”
His sword was pointed upward. Oh, God. Daphne clung to the wall, waiting for the nightmare to end. Itmust after all be a nightmare. But Margaret was stillwith her and paralyzed by shock and terror. It wasreal. It was happening.
“I was going to find you today anyway, Sebastian,” Justin’s voice said calmly. “I want some questions answered. Better sooner than later, I daresay.”
“I suppose,” Sebastian said through his teeth, “you have been up there the whole time and have beenrutting with my sister every night.”
“Margaret is my wife,” Justin said.
“Your wife?” Sebastian laughed. “Since when?”
“Nine days ago,” Justin said. “The same day assomeone was busy thieving, I believe.”
“She is a slut and a whore,” Sebastian said, his voice becoming hysterical. “And you are the worstkind of vermin.” He lunged forward and upward withhis sword. Daphne’s paralysis left her and she rushedback to the doorway with the candle. She was not surewhom the near-darkness favored. But Justin, shecould see, was having difficulty drawing his sword freeof its scabbard in the confines of the narrow stairwell.
“Wait!” she cried, holding up a staying hand. “Sebastian. Let’s talk. Please, let’s talk. Can’t you see that Justin is virtually unarmed. Please don’t.”
But he ignored her, his attention focused entirely on Justin, a few steps above him.
“No!” she said as he made to lunge again. And she stepped forward onto the stairs between them, withthe intention of staying her brother’s arm and protecting her husband, at least until his sword was freeand he could meet Sebastian on equal ground.
The strange thing about being wounded, she thought quite lucidly and quite calmly a moment later,was that at first one felt no pain. Some shock, perhaps. Certainly the knowledge that one had been hit.But no real pain. She sank down to sit on the stepabove her and then lay back against the one abovethat. She knew that Sebastian’s sword had pierced herside. When she pressed a hand to it, she felt the wetheat of blood.
And then she was aware of Justin beside her and over her, his one arm about her shoulders, his otherhand touching her, assessing the damage. His face wasgazing down into hers. Strange grotesque shadowsdanced on the walls, like hovering demons. She didnot know where the candle was, but clearly it was stilllit.
He was crying. She knew it even though she could neither hear nor see him clearly. She was dying, then.She was feeling rather cold. But she was strangelycalm.Let him just hold me while I die,she thought.Let his face be the last thing I see on this earth.Shetried to smile at him, but she knew that her facialmuscles were not responding to her will.I am notunhappy,she wanted to tell him.I love you.
“Margaret. Margaret.” His sobs were torn from him in what she knew must be painful gasps. But Margaretcould not hear. Unconscious or dead already, she layon the stone steps, his arm beneath her neck, her eyesclosed. Daphne, disembodied, watched from somewhere above. She looked down on them—on thewoman who looked exactly like herself, on the manshe loved even over the span of one hundred years,and on the brother of that other self.
“She asked for it,” Sebastian said viciously. Perhaps he felt horror or remorse, Daphne thought, but couldcope with reality only by masking his feelings thus.“She should not have consorted with someone as pooras a church mouse and with a thief and a murderer.”Justin slid his arm slowly from beneath Margaret’sneck. He rose to his feet slowly, disengaging his swordfrom its scabbard as he did so. “In descending orderof importance, Sebastian?” he said. “My poverty ismy greatest sin?”
“She should have married money,” Sebastian said. “Lots of it. There are any number of wealthy menwho would have had her.”
“For her sake?” Justin asked. “Or your own? Were you hoping to benefit from your sister’s marriage, Sebastian? Are all the rumors I have heard of your gambling and other debts true? And is your father stillthe nipfarthing you have always claimed him to be?”
“Worse,” Sebastian said. “He is worse. An infantcould not live on what he allows me.”
“Is that why you needed the jewels?” Justin asked. “And why it did not hurt your conscience to stealfrom your own father?”
