“Marie,” he growled. “I beg of you to confide in me.”
It was an improvement.
“Unlock the portal first.”
There was a long pause, then the key rattled in the lock.
He kicked open the door. Marie stood before the bed, knowing that her confident smile and demure manner only fed his fury. Emma continued to pack satchels and bags. Royce surveyed the chamber and she guessed that he believed she had hidden Gaultier in her chamber.
She smiled, just to vex him.
It worked. His nostrils flared and his color rose. He tore open the curtains that surrounded the bed, looked in trunks and peered behind screens. Finally he halted in the middle of the chamber, still seeking some sign of his Captain of the Guard.
Marie stifled the urge to giggle, but only just.
“Where?” he demanded, more wildly this time.
“I will show you, husband,” Marie said mildly. She took his hand and led him from the chamber. She felt his astonishment as she climbed the stairs to his own solar.
“This is madness. Gaultier is not here…”
“Nay, my lord, but you can see him from here.”
“This is a jest,” he protested. “You mock me. Gaultier is not here either.”
Marie led her husband to the window. Suspicion rolled from him in waves. He expected a trick, but did not guess the truth as yet. He moved to her side with caution. His gaze followed her pointing finger and he frowned.
All that appeared on the curtain wall of the keep was the corpse of the executed prisoner hung from the parapet.
Twisting in the wind.
“There is only the prisoner,” Royce protested. “What jest is this? I seek Gaultier!”
“And who was the condemned man?”
“The knight who would claim Haynesdale in my stead,” Royce said with impatience. “I do not see Gaultier at all. Do not lie to me, woman!” He turned to march across the chamber. “I have no time for such ploys…”
Marie’s laughter made him halt and glance back, wary anew. Aye, her smile troubled him deeply. She smiled a little more, savoring her victory. “Why do you think I requested that the prisoner be hooded for his execution?”
“Because women are weak. Because you could not bear to look upon your lover when he died. Because…” Royce fell silent and she knew the very instant that he realized the truth. He stared at her and spoke in a whisper. “Because it was not the prisoner who died.”
“Nay,” Marie agreed easily. “It was not.”
Royce leapt forward and struck her with the back of his hand, doing so with such force that she fell to the floor. Vermin! Marie raised a hand to her burning cheek, her own anger redoubling.
“You ensured that the most trusted man in my ranks was executed!” he raged, his face livid. “How dare you meddle in such matters! How dare you defy me in this?” He made to seize her again, but Marie rose quickly to her feet.
She seized the blade, spun as he grabbed her elbow and stabbed hard into his gut. His eyes widened in astonishment as she jerked the blade higher and his blood flowed between them. “How dare you strike your lady wife?” she muttered, even as he glanced down in dismay.
“Marie!” he whispered.
It was a thin blade, a wickedly sharp one, and she drove it higher then twisted it deeply inside him. Royce coughed at the pain and blood came from his mouth as he staggered backward. He stared at her as if she were a stranger.
Emma watched from the portal.
“Viper,” he managed to say. “You are all vipers.”
Marie drove the knife deeper then pulled it out of him. He clearly thought she would attack him again for he took a step backward.
