When they were gone, all the spirit went out of her, and she sank down onto the bed with an audible sob.
In recent days, she had come to doubt Crispin’s integrity. But never in her dreams had she believed him capable of such violence and cruelty. To think, she had pledged herself to such a man.
Worse. She hadgiven herselfto such a man.
Her vision blurred with salty tears, but she could not summon the will to blink them away. She knew not how much time passed before Adam returned and she raised her head to find him standing, awkwardly, before her.
“I have brought you this.” He handed her a goblet of the rich wine they had been drinking earlier. “For the shock.”
But Esme could only think of how Crispin had drunk from her goblet. Mayhap his lips had touched this very rim? She placed it on her nightstand without touching a drop.
“’Twas a kind thought,” she said, unable to look him in the eye.
“Will I leave you then, milady?”
“Nay.” Still unwilling to glance upwards, she reached out and laid a hand on his arm. “Pray do not, Adam. I am sorry if I appear ungracious.”
Immediately he sat beside her and placed a comforting arm about her shoulders. She leaned into his warmth and strength, and her trembling began to ease. Adam was a patient man. He gave her the time she needed without question, silently passing her a handkerchief when her tears began to fall.
“Where did you put him?” she asked at long last.
“In my chamber.” At her look of surprise, Adam pursed his lips. “’Tis the only room for which I have the key.”
“Of course.” Gratitude washed over for her his thoughtfulness in not alerting more of the household.
“The situation must be addressed again come the morn.” Adam tilted his head, thoughtfully. “I would see the man clad in irons and flung over the cliffs.” Esme gasped at the vision and Adam grimaced. “Is it not what he deserves for attacking you in your own home, where you should be safe?”
For a moment, Esme thought of Adam’s former love, Clara, who had not been safe in her own home.
But out loud, she said, “I cannot think clearly on this at all. Crispin is not the man I thought he was.”
She felt him stiffen beside her. When she lifted her head, he was gazing blankly at a tapestry on the opposite wall. Pools of candlelight lit the chamber, and the smell of smoke still hung in the air. This room had always been peaceful—in days past she had railed at the unending tranquility of it—but now its serenity had been severed, and even familiar objects seemed strange and untethered. Tension and high emotion rolled around them in waves. Some of it, she realized, coming from Adam himself.
“I have much to explain to you,” she whispered.
He gave the slightest shake of his head. “There is naught you have to explain, least of all to me. You are Lady Esme de Neville.”
“And you are the man whose opinion I value above all others.” Esme sat up straighter, so his arm slid from her shoulders. As much as she missed his touch, she knew shemust speak freely and honestly, not hide behind vulnerability or distress. She pressed her palms together and took a deep breath. “’Twas true what Crispin said to you, downstairs. We were a betrothed couple. But ’twas only very recent.”
“Did you love him?” Adam’s voice was without expression.
“I believed so. Certainly, at first. Crispin was a hearth knight for my father, and I thought him the handsomest man I had ever seen.” Esme plunged on with her tale, knowing her only hope was the truth. “We started meeting in secret not long after yule.”
Adam gave her the ghost of a sideways smile. “Secrecy can add excitement to the most commonplace affair.”
She felt the reprimand. “I see that now.” Tears were leaking from her eyes once more and she impatiently dabbed them away with his handkerchief. “’Tis strange to think of these events. They seem so long ago. So foolish. ’Tis almost as if they happened to someone else.”
“You do not have to speak of it, milady. I can guess at the bones of the story.”
“Nay, do not say that.” Her self-pity was replaced by a spark of frustration. “Do you not see what I am doing?”
Surprise flared in his face. “What?”
“I am explaining myself toyou.” She placed her hand briefly on his chest for emphasis. “Because of all that has passed between us. Because of who you are to me.” She looked down, swallowing hard as she replaced her hand in her lap.
“And who am I to you?” His voice was strained.
“Someone important. Someone who should not seek to put distance between us by addressing me asmilady.” She sniffed. “Though I can see why you might want to do so.”
