“He didn’t love her at all. No man would have —” Anice clapped a hand to her breast, her eyes wide. “ O-o-oh, forgive me, lady, I shouldn’t have said aught. But the words just popped out.”
Gelis waved a hand, not trusting herself to speak.
Her heart split wide, relief flooding her.
Even though she was quite sure she was very wicked to be gladdened that the Raven hadn’t been passionately in love with his second wife.
She knew from kitchen blether that the woman had been a frail flower. Tiny and dark-haired, and everything she wasn’t. In truth, she’d feared her own well-rounded dips, curves, andfillingsmight not appeal to a man used to loving a woman the size of a sparrow.
She bit the corner of her lip.
Now she knew different.
Hope began to pump through her. Her blood surged. She’d been so certain the Raven deeply mourned Lady Cecilia. That her ghost would always stand between them.
“Pray dinna be wroth with me, lady.” Anice was peering at her, her eyes worried.
Gelis leaned back against the curve of the stair tower wall, her knees suddenly wobbly. “Nae, nae, I am not vexed,” she said, feeling anything but.
She felt absolutely giddy.
“So the lady wasn’t well-loved?” The question made her face heat, but she had to know. “The Raven never speaks of her.”
“She wasn’t very kindly. Not to any of us.” Anice looked down at her hands, then back at Gelis. “I am not surprised the Raven doesn’t speak of her. Not after the way she cursed him before she died. She —”
Whack!
The slamming of the hall door interrupted her, the sharp cracking noise echoing in the stair tower and even shaking the walls.
“Valdar!” The roar from the hall followed at once, thundering and furious. “Touch naught!”
“Sweet Jesu — the Raven!” Gelis hitched up her skirts and ran down the stairs, Anice quick on her heels.
Already, other voices were rising, loud and alarmed, the sudden din accompanied by the barking of dogs, shouts, and the sound of scraped-back benches and scuffling.
Panting, the two women burst from the stair tower into chaos. Everywhere men were jumping to their feet and the floor was strewn with crockery and cups from several upturned long tables. The castle dogs raced about in circles, getting underfoot and greatly lending to the ruckus, while near the stair-foot two cursing men stood half-naked, using their plaids to smother burning floor rushes.
Gelis veered out of their way, nearly falling headlong over a toppled candelabrum.
Anicedidstumble into it, the hem of her skirt catching fire from the still-burning candles scattered in a ring around the thing’s curving arms.
“Aggggh!” she wailed, freezing.
“Here!” Gelis yanked a linen off the nearest table and dropped to her knees to swat at the flames with the bunched cloth. “ ’Tis out already — dinna fret.”
Pushing to her feet, she grabbed Anice’s arm, pulling her deeper into the throng, away from the candelabrum fire and the two men.
Busy slapping at the smoking rushes with their plaids, they had the flames nearly under control, and — more urgently — across the hall, the Raven still bellowed, his angry voice sharp against the tumult.
“Dear saints, what has — aaiieee!” Gelis leaped aside as four of the castle dogs sped past, nearly knocking her down.
Righting herself, she shoved back her hair and grabbed up her skirts to rush forward again, pushing and pressing through the tight- packed throng.
“Ronan!” she called, finally seeing him.
Just gaining the dais, he tore up the steps to that raised platform, the dark fury on his face closing her throat.
Ronan!She tried to cry out again, but her voice emerged as a rasp, her chest so tight she could hardly breathe.
