“Did you...” Her throat had gone dry, and she cleared it. “Did you kill her, Sir Miles?”
The look he gave her was astonished. “Why would I? Put myself at risk for such as she? Nay, lady, I did not kill her. She was not worth the effort.”
Briar felt the nausea in her belly, threatening to sap her strength. Not now! Please, sweet babe, not now! She must not be weak. She must talk her way out of this place, then escape and run. Run all the way home, if necessary. Dear God, she thought, let Ivo forgive me. What have I done, what have I done...
“Ivo wants you.” He said it like an accusation.
“Nay,” Briar laughed brightly, as if he had made a nonsense joke. “He does not want me, Sir Miles. I am a diversion to him, that is all. The traitor’s daughter who sings songs. He thinks me an oddity.”
He didn’t believe her. She saw it in his wolfish smile. And she knew, in that single moment, what her heart had been trying to tell her all along. He would hurt her, but not because he had any grudge against her. He would hurt her because by doing so he could make Ivo suffer.
“You were riding with him the night I tried to frighten him,” he went on accusingly. “He knew it was me. I saw the fear in his eyes.”
Briar remembered the night in question well, the journey from Lord Shelborne’s house, but she had not realized until now that it was Miles who came out of the darkness, screaming like a devil.
“Ivo is afraid of nothing,” she said with complete certainty.
Miles’s pale eyes narrowed. “Ivo was always the brother that people preferred,” he said, and it was a statement. “That people loved. Do you love him, lady?”
Aye, I do love him.
Briar shook her head, her eyes on him. She dared not look away, in case he sprang.
“I think you are lying,” he said, and shook his finger at her as if she were a wayward child. “I think you do love my brother. I am going to enjoy this. I wondered whether or not I should finish you in the alcove last night—I had a dagger, nice and sharp—but then I decided I needed more time. There are so many things we can do together, lady. Oh yes, I am going to enjoy imagining Ivo’s face—when he finds what is left of you...”
The bird flew up.
It must have been nesting in part of the wall and their voices had disturbed it. It was the only chance she had, and Briar used it. She turned and ran for the door. It seemed leagues away. A patch of brightness in the shadows. She heard him behind her. His fingers tugged briefly on the back of her cloak, and then he was cursing foully as he stumbled on loose stone. Next thing she was out in the light, gasping as if she had run the entire length of York.
The man stepped in front of her so suddenly she cannoned into him.
Briar screamed, backing away, her feet stumbling on the uneven road. He caught her in his arms, and something in his touch, his warmth, his scent, spelled safety. Wildly, she looked up into his face. Savage dark eyes, hair growing back some of its riotous curl, and a grim, white face.
It was Ivo.
Briar’s limbs turned to water.
He gripped her arms a moment longer, holding her until she had steadied herself, and then he looked past her. Briar also swung around, trembling for what she might see, but there was no one. Only the abandoned house as silent and forbidding as before.
“But... where did he go?” she gasped, eyes huge.
“You mean Miles.” It was not a question.
“He was inside. I... I was frightened of him.”
“At least you have that aright.” But his dark gaze slid quickly over her, assessing any damage, and if possible he grew even more angry. “Briar, stay here with Sweyn. Do not move. Do you understand me?”
For the first time, Briar noticed Sweyn standing to one side. Instinctively she wanted to protest. She didn’t want to stay here, she didn’t want him to go inside alone. But his intensity was such that she bit her lip and nodded her head. He walked toward the building, his head moving slowly from side to side as he surveyed his surrounds with all the care of a prospective purchaser. And then he reached down and slid his sword from its scabbard and walked through the doorway into the darkness.
Briar held her breath. She expected to hear shouts, swords clashing, a dying scream ... Ivo came out of the house with a quick, easy stride, resheathing his sword as he approached.
“There is no one there now,” he said shortly, with a glance at Sweyn. “Miles must have found another way out—there are plenty of broken walls. He was always good at running away.”
Sweyn gave an edgy laugh. “This time you’ll catch him, Ivo. This time you’ll beat him.”
Ivo nodded, but he looked bleak.
Briar closed her eyes, weary beyond imagining. “I do not understand. He said he had more to tell me of my stepmother, and to meet him here. He said he would talk to me of you. I thought it would be a good thing, to bring you together again, to reconcile you with all that remains of your family. If it was me, then I would want that very much, Ivo, and he... he seemed to want that.”
