“Lord Ceredys.” Her voice was clear and steady, showing no fear. “You’ve made a long journey.”
Her body tensed, as though she were about to attack the man. Ewan had never seen her this way, as though murder were her intent. Why? What had Ceredys done?
Katherine intervened again. “I really do want to return.” She began packing up the basket, and looked toward Ewan in a plea for help.
“We’ll go, as you wish,” he acceded.
But as she moved toward her horse, Ewan made it clear to every man there, that he would not let any harm come to the women. He didn’t miss the anger kindled in Lord Ceredys’s eyes.
Nor the rage that Honora tried to hold back as the man watched her.
Johnhadfollowedher.
Honora clenched her fist around the grip of her dagger, wishing to God that it wasn’t a mortal sin to kill a man. Just having him near made her skin crawl.
She’d remained near Ewan and Katherine for the rest of the day, though she felt badly for interfering with their courtship. John was not to be trusted, even with a castle full of servants and guards.
After the evening meal, she rose and followed Katherine toward their chamber. As she passed the men seated at the trestle tables, her senses went on alert. It took a great deal of composure not to draw her dagger. Especially when John’s hungry eyes locked upon her.
It wasn’t right, his forbidden desire. She hated everything about him, from the gleaming golden hair to his dark brown eyes. As she passed him, he smiled, raising his goblet in salute. She didn’t acknowledge the gesture.
He was to blame for what had happened to the people of Ceredys. All of it lay upon his shoulders.
And hers.
Her father was right. She’d been hiding here, creating excuses for not going back. How could she dare to make a life for herself when so many were suffering? Her skin grew cold, and she barely saw her surroundings, as though she looked through a mask.
Ewan waited for her to pass in front of him, and his hand brushed against the small of her back. Her skin warmed from the touch. He made her feel safer, for he would not allow John to follow.
Katherine bade him good night, and Ewan kissed her hand. Honora was about to continue up the spiral stone stairs, but Ewan called her back. “Why do you fear John of Ceredys? Did he harm you at your husband’s estate?”
She rested her hand upon the wall, choosing her words carefully. “I don’t fear him.” She hated him. The very thought of the man made her want to carve out his heart. “But he threatens his own people. And I want him gone.”
She said nothing of the personal threat to herself. John’s eyes had rested upon her at every moment, as though he were trying to strip away her clothing. And after what he’d done to the maidservant . . .
She closed her eyes, as though it could make the nightmare go away. Without thinking, she fingered the ends of her hair.
Ewan stepped toward her and touched the edge of her chin. His green eyes watched her, as if trying to discern the truth. “Did he force you?”
Honora shivered, not wanting to remember it. “No. I . . I defended myself against him.” After her husband’s death, with the help of Marie St. Leger, she’d hidden weapons in every chamber. Without her mother-in-law’s assistance, she might have fallen prey to John’s unnatural desire.
Ewan sensed what she hadn’t told him, and a rage darkened his face. “Do you want me to get rid of him? I’ll speak to your father.”
Honora shook her head. “No. He’s here because my father asked him to come.” And because John’s approval was expected before she could remarry.
Not that it mattered, for she had no intention of doing so.
Praise God, John could never wed her himself, according to the consanguinity laws of the Church. As her son-in-law, he was now related by blood. But she wasn’t naïve enough to think it would stop him from forcing his body upon her.
“You don’t look well,” Ewan remarked.
Was it that evident? She felt as though she were about to be sick, just thinking of John.
He reached out, resting his palm upon her nape. The simple touch gave her comfort she hadn’t expected. His thumb stroked the exposed part of her neck, sending an unexpected ripple of gooseflesh.
What was he doing, touching her like this? She knew she should move forward, to escape the warmth of his hand. But for a moment, it felt good to pretend that Ewan would protect her. To imagine that she could feel safe again.
Reluctantly, she took a step up the stone staircase, and his hand fell away. She faced him and said, “I must go. Katherine will be waiting.”
