A shiver ran through her as Lucy hoped they had not made good on their threats to hang the man.
She’d heard them talking of how the man had stolen a horse and gold from their lord and would hang for the offenses, no matter that the lord was now dead.
It was awful to think, but Lucy hoped they all caught smallpox and died.
From what she knew of Agnes, her late husband, Roland something or other, had probably been just as awful as she was, and deserved to have his horse stolen, she thought sourly.
The guards kept a close eye on her, refusing to speak to her, except the one time she’d asked the Scotsman’s name, and one of the guards threatened to give her a matching black eye if she asked any more questions.
Not one to do as she was told. The next morning, as she broke her fast with porridge and ale, Lucy tried speaking with the timid maid who’d been tasked with bringing her meals.
“Where is the Scot?”
The girl shivered, but did not answer.
“Please, can you tell me where I am?”
The girl avoided meeting Lucy’s gaze as she stepped out of the cell.
“Beggin’ yer pardon, miss, but I cannot say. I do as my lady commands.”
Before Lucy could ask again, the servant hurried out, casting a fearful look at the guards as she fled the stone building thatLucy had come to think of as a jail, leaving her alone in the gloom once more.
It seemed Agnes had threatened the servants against speaking to her, so she would just have to wait until Agnes deigned to return.
Were Thomas and the rest of her guard still searching for her? Would they get a message to William in time?
With her husband away on the king’s business, he wouldn’t have any idea of the disaster that had befallen her in his absence. Thank goodness her children were safe at Blackford, with the thick castle walls and armed guards to protect her boys. No one could get to them, not even Agnes.
Two endless days later, Agnes swept in, two armed men at her back. Lucy’s stomach clenched, but she shakily rose to her feet, refusing to cower before the young woman.
Never had she felt so alone and afraid. As the days passed, even her hope felt tenuous, a flickering candle that could be easily extinguished.
Agnes studied her coldly for a moment before speaking.
“I have news I think shall please you. I have sent my men to intercept William as he travels from court to Blackford. Your husband will die on the road, a lord taken unawares by bandits, but before he dies, he will know that you too will die and he will be unable to save you.”
She touched a finger to her chin.
“I have not yet decided if I shall have the men kill your children or if I shall take them from Blackford and raise them as my own.”
Her voice dropped to a whisper. “For I cannot have children of my own.” Then Agnes lifted her chin. “They are young enough that in time they will forget you both and I can make them into the kind of men I need.”
Horror dropped like a stone in Lucy’s stomach, but promising herself she wouldn’t show any fear. She squared her shoulders and met Agnes’s gaze unflinchingly.
“I swear you shall regret whatever you do.” Lucy wanted to wipe the smirk from Agnes’ face, but instead she kept her mouth shut, hoping that her guard was searching for her and that Agnes was full of crap.
A half mad smile filled Agnes’ face, her eyes bright.
“As William made me an orphan, I now make him a widow, his sons motherless. Once both of you are dead, and your children are mine, then and only then shall we be even.”
Hot tears spilled down her cheeks as Lucy thought of her boys being raised by this monster. It was too cruel to fathom.
“Please...” she rasped hoarsely. “I beg of you, show mercy...”
But Agnes just regarded her coldly.
“The time for mercy has long passed. Prepare yourself, my lady, for soon you shall join your husband in death.”
