How many serfs had starved, to give him that chain? she wondered. Anger bled through her veins, and she was tempted to draw her blade. But the thin smile upon John’s face made her question why he was here.
“My lord.” She greeted him with a stiff curtsy, while her hand rested upon the grip of her dagger. Bloodthirsty thoughts, of carving out his heart, raged through her mind.
“Will you not offer me an embrace of welcome, Lady Honora? Or should I call you Mother?”
She refused to let his taunt pass. “I am not your mother.” Although they now had a kinship bond through marriage, she’d never acknowledge it.
When Honora tried to walk past him, he blocked her way. A patronizing smile spread over his face. “True. I have never thought of you as a mother. I thought of you as the bride I was supposed to have. He took you from me, you know.”
She didn’t know what madness he was speaking about. “I was always betrothed to Ranulf.”
“But it was supposed to be me that you wed. My father promised, and then he broke his word when he saw you.”
And thank heaven for that. Her marriage to Ranulf had been a nightmare, but it would have been far worse, had she married John.
“Marie spoke of you before she died,” he said.
At the mention of his grandmother, Honora faltered. Marie had been the only ally she had at Ceredys, a steadfast friend. Now why would he bring up his grandmother? Her suspicions sharpened. “What did she say?”
He ignored the question. “You saw her often, didn’t you?”
“She was kind to me.”
“Then you must have seen the ruby she wore around her neck. And she must have told you about the Ceredys treasure.”
So that’s what he wanted—and it was the reason why he was here. He coveted Marie’s belongings. The glint in his eyes spoke of a desperate man.
“I saw the ruby on a few occasions.” She glared at him. “But she never spoke of any treasure.”
“It belongs to me. But it’s gone, along with the ruby.” He drew closer, his gaze menacing. “I think you took it when you left. And I think you know exactly where my inheritance lies.”
His hand tried to slip toward her waist, but Honora unsheathed her knife and held it in a silent threat. “I know nothing.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Believe what you like. But if you touch me, I will cut off your fingers.”
He laughed, raising his hands in mock surrender. “So abrasive. And do you treat all of your suitors in this way?”
“I have no suitors.”
“That isn’t what your father tells me.” John circled around her, and Honora kept her grip firm on the knife.
From the nonchalant expression on his face, he didn’t feel at all intimidated by her weapon. It deepened her anger, and she wanted to prove to him that she was a threat. Aye, she’d lost the sparring match, but it didn’t make her helpless.
“Which man will you choose? Sir Ademar, perhaps?” John continued circling, edging her closer to the herbal bed. Honora took a step backwards, her foot brushing against the prickly rosemary.
Damn him for making her afraid. She was halfway cowering amid the plants, just to escape him. And he was gloating about it.
“Or will you take another man into your bed?” His voice was silky, hinting at his own unholy desires. “A man who knows how to conquer you.”
Her common sense snapped. Who was he to threaten her in this way? How dare he corner her, behaving as though he were her master?Without thinking, she darted forward, slicing her knife toward his face. The tip of her blade caught his cheek, and blood welled up. His grip caught her wrist, and he squeezed until she thought he would break her wrist. “That was a mistake, Lady Honora.”
She bit her lip hard to keep from crying out. He stared at her, letting her know with his eyes what he wanted to do to her. And the coldness there, the utter ruthlessness of his gaze, terrified her.
At last, he let go, and she nearly sank to her knees from the pain. John stepped past her, as though she were something to be discarded. After he’d gone, she released the tears, hot tears of rage against her helplessness.
She’d always taken comfort in her fighting skills, but he’d stripped that away. He’d made her aware of her weaknesses, and with that knowledge, her confidence withered. Had she really thought she could raise up men against him?
