“How convenient,” Piers replied acidly, clenching his teeth. He formed a fist without realizing it and released it, trying to remain calm. He silently urged the man to keep his distance, because he was about to rip his tongue from his throat.
“Damned convenient if ye ask me,” Baldwin said low beside him.
Tomas seemed to ignore the barb. “I feel responsible,” he said with feigned sorrow.
Piers turned to look at him, wondering if it were a confession for the fire.
But as he dismounted beside them, he added, “Her father placed her in my care and I feel as though I’ve failed him.”
Piers was still glaring at him. The man turned to face the burning stables, averting his gaze. “What happened here? Did someone drop a lantern into the hay? Careless buggers!” He spat upon the ground.
“Nay,” Piers corrected him, somehow certain Tomas knew far more about the blaze than he was willing to admit. “It seems someone torched it apurpose.”
Tomas turned to face Piers, his expression marked with the same lack of emotion he had displayed in the case of John’s death.
No conscience.
No concern.
Naught but an empty expression.
“So you were worried about Elizabet?” Piers asked.
God damned liar!
“Aye,” Tomas replied, and turned again to gaze at the inferno. “What about the dog?” he asked without turning again to regard Piers. His voice was toneless.
Piers merely stared at the man, a seed of suspicion beginning to take root.
Baldwin burst forth with a string of blasphemies. “God! The dog!” he said, swiping at the air in anger. “We forgot about the damned dog!”
“What a pity,” Tomas replied and continued to stare into the flames.
Piers blinked at his response.
He peered back in the direction the man had come from, trying to gauge the distance an arrow could fly. He turned then to Baldwin and asked him, “From which direction did the arrow come?”
Baldwin was still cursing over the loss of the hound. “That way,” he said, indicating the direction Tomas had come from.
Piers flicked Tomas another glance. The man was still staring into the flames, but Piers was well aware that Tomas’s attention was directed at him.
In that instant, he knew without a doubt, Tomas was responsible, and Piers was going to prove it.
Without another word, he spun on his heel and left Baldwin to deal with the fire, because if he had to remain in Tomas’s presence even an instant longer, he was going to seize the man by the throat and rip out his lying, conniving tongue.
CHAPTER 18
Broc was out of breath by the time he reached the hovel. Guilt tore at him for leaving the scene of the fire. The images and sounds tormented him still. Screams and shouts filled his senses. Roaring flames stung his eyes.
Those were friends he’d abandoned. He should have pitched in to help put out the fire.
He should have but he hadn’t dared.
He pushed the door to the hovel open. “Elizabet?”
The room was dark save for the light of a single taper that sat on the table. She was asleep, her head resting upon the table, her hair flowing down her back like a river of copper silk. Smiling at the sight of her, for he could scarce help himself, he knelt to untie Harpy’s leash. The dog wagged its tail anxiously, peering up at him in what Broc sensed to be appreciation. He patted the animal affectionately, grateful he had gotten to the stable before the fire.
He still could not fathom how the fire had begun. The lantern had been placed far too high for careless lovers to have tipped it. It was possible it had simply dropped from its hook, but the handle had appeared secure enough.
