Eachann thought on the plan and smiled. “And then I get her.”
“Aye, Eachann, the stupid bitch is yours.”
She ached from head to toe when she opened her eyes in the morning. Well, her eye, since the other one was swollen shut from the blow to her face. Groping across the bed, she discovered that Sebastien was already gone.
Lara lay back down and thought on his words last evening as he’d spoken of his childhood. When she considered what he’d told her, she decided mayhap making his own way was better than being claimed by one family. He was not bound by anything but his conscience and his honor. He answered to no one but to those whom he chose. There was a certain attractiveness to such a life when she thought of her own dilemma.
Tied to her family no matter the cause or the argument.
She wished she had someone to share her thoughts with and to discuss matters such as these. The only one close enough to her was her mother’s sister, but she had not seen her in over three years. Sitting up now, she slid to the side of the bed and climbed out. Margaret responded as always at her first movements and opened the door.
And dropped the tray she carried onto the floor with a loud crash.
“Oh, my lady!” she cried out as she knelt down to pick up the broken jug and bowls. “Your face…your face!”
Surmising that she looked worse than she felt, and she felt poorly, Lara knew she would be staying in her chambers for the day. Going to help Margaret clean up the steaming porridge from the floor, she gasped as three heavily armed guards rushed up the stairs and into her chambers. Before she could give an explanation, they drew their weapons.
Sir Hugh followed a moment behind them, sword drawn and ax in hand, and then Sebastien only a few steps behind him. Margaret looked up at the fierce warriors before her and fainted to the floor. When Lara tried to catch her, they all moaned as they caught sight of her face.
“Here now,” Sebastien said as he hurried to help her. “What has happened?” He, too, paused and glanced at her injured cheek before lifting the maid into his arms and passing her off to Sir Hugh, who stood behind him.
“You should have warned me or them about my face.”
“Truly, it did not look this bad before. ’Tis only full daylight that brings out all the colors.”
She thought he might be trying to jest, but his horrified expression matched those of the other men, and she shrugged. “I would have thought that this bruise would be nothing to battle-hardened warriors like yourselves. There is not even a trace of blood.” She touched her swollen cheek and they hissed as though in pain.
“Blood is no’ a problem, my lady,” Jamie said. “Or even severed limbs….”
“Do ye remember the time that Old Hamish lost his eye?” another chimed in. “Even seeing it hanging by a thread down his cheek didna bother me.”
The third began to regale her with another injury incident when Sebastien—thank the Lord!—interrupted them. “I think,” he said, and then louder, “I think it is seeing it on a woman that makes it more grievous than in battle.”
“Aye, my lord. Ye have the right of it,” Jamie said. “If the skin did not break—” he pointed to her face “—ye probably willna even have a scar.”
The other men just stared at her and then nodded at the apparent wisdom of their comrade. She looked to Sebastien and cleared her throat. He got the message.
“The lady is safe, so go back to your posts,” he ordered.
The soldiers put their swords back into their scabbards and bowed to her. She heard their footsteps as they trod back down to where they were assigned, apparently not too far away. Lara peeked into the outer chamber and noticed that Margaret had regained consciousness…in Sir Hugh’s arms. The woman would be worthless for the rest of the day, so Lara waved her off as Sir Hugh helped her down the stairs.
“Are they truly necessary, my lord?” she asked, gathering the remnants of her meal and placing them on the table.
“Until I am certain that Eachann is no longer a threat to you, aye, they are.” He picked up the cloth that had covered the tray and began to wipe up the porridge from the floor with it.
“He is probably long gone, back to my father.”
“Mayhap or not, I will not take any chances with him,” he said. His lips moved into a slight smile. “Not as long as you are my concern, that is.”
She nodded, understanding that one of her choices was to leave him and go back to her family.
“I would say one thing on the matter of the choices before you, if I may?” He looked to her for permission. Lara nodded. “If your decision is to leave our marriage behind and seek an annulment, I would urge you to consider going to someone other than your father.”
“Why?” He did not know of the conciliatory letter and the tender greetings and promises made to her by her parent.
“In my dealings with your cousin, I’ve learned that he is a man who enjoys giving pain to others.”
“And in your dealings with other spies, have you never caused pain?”
