She was discomfited, which was no doubt his intention. Esme’s eyes traveled behind Crispin’s crumpled figure to the doorway which remained stubbornly empty. Crispin followed her gaze and smiled.
“I begin to see how the situation unfolds. You wait upon my jailer, do you? The hulking serf who pretends to be my better?”
“Adam pretends to be naught he isn’t,” she said hotly.
“Adam, is it?” He raised his eyebrows and Esme wondered why she had never noticed the cruel slant to his eyes.
As if their words had summoned him, Adam now appeared at the bottom of the staircase. He closed the door behind him and came to stand beside Crispin. He had changed into a fresh shirt and fastened a sword belt around his waist. Esme was reassured by the gleam of metal at his hip.
“What are your orders, milady?” His voice was quiet, and his actions were understated, but his eyes were quick and alert.
Esme lifted her chin, bidding herself to remain calm. “Crispin is to leave.”
Adam put a heavy hand on the knight’s shoulder. “You heard the lady.”
However, Crispin seemed hardly to hear them. “Not so fast, dear Esme. We have much to discuss. And I have not yet broken my fast.”
“There is naught to discuss.” She worked hard to keep her voice from trembling as a feeling of rage rushed through her.
“I have traveled frequently and far in these lands.” Crispin strolled to the window and gazed out at the green fields beyond, as if he were an honored guest at Ember Hall. “And wherever I have rested, I have always been welcomed as a knight sworn to the Earl of Wolvesley.”
Adam made a strangled sound. “A privilege you have abused, sir.”
“A privilege I have enjoyed.” Crispin kept his back to them both. “Though one that will pale into insignificance once I am accustomed to my new standing.”
Esme’s hands clenched into fists. She could not bear to hear him say the words she knew were coming.
“Please stop,” she choked out, at the same time as Crispin turned to face them with a flourish that was hardly dampened by the fact of his bound wrists.
“As the newsonof the Earl of Wolvesley.”
“You will never be that,” she declared, through gritted teeth. All her carefully gathered composure had deserted her. She thought that she would like to run at Crispin and slap his face.
Adam strode forward before she could do anything she might later regret. “It is time for you to leave.” He put his hands on Crispin’s shoulders and turned him to face to door. Esme was gratified to see that he stood some half a head taller than their foe.
Nonetheless, Crispin found the strength and balance to resist, seemingly grinding his boots into the polished wooden floor.
“Unhand me this instant.” He swatted at Adam as if he were a mere annoyance. “How dare you treat me this way? Do you not know who I am?”
Something had pierced Adam’s careful self-control. Esme could see it in the way he held his body, like a hawk about to dive upon its prey. “I have seen many men like you.” Anger flashed across his stubbled face as he leaned closer. “Aye, I know exactly who you are.”
“I am the son of a nobleman.” Crispin glared into Adam’s eyes, even though he had to tilt his chin upwards to do so. “And you are nothing. You have no authority over me.”
A terrible fear dropped over Esme, like a coarse and scratchy blanket.
Could Crispin be right?
Even if Adam successfully removed him from Ember Hall, there was no telling what harm he might wreak upon her, should he return to Wolvesley.
As if reading her thoughts, Crispin switched his gaze from Adam to herself. Despite all her best efforts, Esme found herself cringing.
“If you insist on me leaving this place, I will go at once to Wolvesley Castle. Imagine, dear Esme, the conversations I will have there.”
Sickened, she pulled away from his hypnotic gaze and looked, instead, at Adam. For a brief moment, their eyes met across the vast hall, and she felt as if all might yet be well.
Adam’s fingers closed around the hilt of his sword, no doubt longing to draw it free. “You are in no position to bargain, Crispin. You are bound and I am not. If I must take you back to Wolvesley myself to ensure the earl hears the truth, I will do so.”
Esme’s heart leaped with hope, but Crispin only chuckled—a sound which made the hairs rise up on the back of her neck.
