The house that had once belonged to her father was just as abandoned. Only this time Briar had no Ivo to hold her hand and make her feel better. ‘Twas strange, how she had felt so irritated by his care of her before, but that now she missed it. She missed him.
Briar stomped her feet, trying to thaw out her cold toes. She could see no sign of Miles. He had said he had something to tell her about Anna? What could that be? Before she could get the information from him, he had changed the subject to Ivo, and then Mary had come. Perhaps it was only that Lord Fitzmorton was another of Anna’s lovers?
How could her father have loved his wife, and still she had shared her favors among so many others? It was incomprehensible to Briar, and unforgivable.
If I loved a man I would not betray him for a moment’s pleasure. I would not betray Ivo ...
Her mind stilled at the thought. Love? Did she love Ivo de Vessey? Was that what this warm glow around her heart was? But Briar was not sure she wanted to explore that thought, not yet, not now. It was not the place or the time for thoughts of love.
The house stood silent, waiting.
Briar peered at it, swinging her arms now. The air was getting colder. If she waited much longer she would surely freeze to death. She may as well go inside and wait there. Mayhap Miles had left her a message? Mayhap he had already come and gone?
Again that strange thump of her heart.
As if it were warning her.
As usual when something interfered with her plans, Briar ignored it. Instead she gathered her skirts in her hands, and picked her way over the fallen debris to the door.
Inside the air was stale, and the smell of smoke seemed stronger than it had been yesterday. Briar wrinkled her nose in distaste but continued forward, mindful of the uneven floor. The twittering birds were silent, but Briar didn’t mark it. In fact she was so busy watching her feet, it was not until he cleared his throat that Briar sensed she was not alone.
“Oh!” She looked up, startled, and then laughed nervously. “You are here after all, Sir Miles.”
“It would seem so, lady,” he said easily, and his bow was slight.
Briar could not see his face properly, the light from the jagged hole in the wall was behind him again. However his voice was mild, unthreatening, and she forced herself to relax. This is Ivo’s brother. What have I to fear from Ivo’s brother?
As if he had read the name in her thoughts, Miles said, “My brother is not with you?”
“No, he is not. You told me not to tell him, remember?”
“I remember.” He smiled. “I am grateful.”
Comforted, Briar took a step closer.
“Ivo would never have allowed you to come here on your own, lady. He would have brought a dozen men with swords. He doesn’t trust me, you see.”
Satisfaction permeated his voice, and something more, something that oozed through his words, chilling Briar’s blood. Like evil.
Briar’s heart gave that hard thump, more urgently this time. She tried to remember who she was, to restore her courage. Lady Briar, daughter of Lord Richard Kenton. Aye, she was quite capable of dealing with a mere knight. And her feelings might be a little confused right now, but she would not let them overwhelm her. She was here on a matter of importance to Ivo, and the sooner she found out what she needed to, the sooner she could leave.
“You said you had something to tell me about my stepmother, Sir Miles,” she reminded him, as calmly as she was able. “And about Ivo.”
He walked forward, and he was not smiling. His gray eyes were as cold as the Ouse in winter. As he drew closer, his face no longer seemed handsome, but instead had the lean, unpleasant look of a weasel or a stoat. A killing animal, an animal without pity. Why had she ever thought him charming?
Briar shivered. It was very cold in here. Her breath puffed white and her toes were going numb.
“Sir Miles? Lady Anna?” she reminded him.
“What can I tell you about Lady Anna? She was a wellborn whore.”
Briar heard her own gasp. “I—that is brutal, Sir Miles,” she managed, but her face betrayed her.
He smiled then, enjoying her fear. “I prefer brutal, Lady Briar. You asked me to tell you, and I have. She lay with my master Fitzmorton, but then her eye turned to me, and so she lay with me, too. She was beautiful, but even beauty loses something when you are made aware so many men have used it before you. Don’t you think?”
“I am not schooled in such matters.”
Her voice was frigid, but it took all of her willpower not to stumble backward, away from him. Briar sensed that if she ran he would give chase, and enjoy the hunt, so she stood still and brave before him.
