He waited. There wasn’t anything else Nicholas wanted to ask him. He’d heard enough. “Oh, and by the way, the instant you are dead she will bemywife.”
That was enough to make Phillip reach out for Nicholas’ arm. But Nicholas was too quick, having trained every day with Cain for a year, and Phillip grabbed at the air.
“Phillip, think well on what you do next.”
He came at Nicholas again, spitting mad. “If you touch her I will—”
“You will do nothing,” Nicholas assured, leaning back out of range and avoiding the blow. He moved forward and sent his fist into Phillip’s nose hard enough to snap Phillip’s head back and splatter blood everywhere. He didn’t move. This time, Phillip shook his head at the effects of Nicholas’ blow. He swung again, but Nicholas easily sidestepped the strike. He remained close to Phillip, as if his ankles were also shackled to the ground. He fisted both hands and hit Phillip with a right and then a left, finishing with another crushing right uppercut. Phillip managed to hit him in the side, He was strong and his rage was fierce. Nicholas lost his breath and almost buckled in half. But hell, he’d been hit harder than that in the past and had continued fighting. Now was no different.
Images in his head that he wished were not there, of his mother in the pit and Julianna filled with fear. But they gave him the strength and stamina he needed to finish this.
He bent the rest of the way to the ground to avoid another swinging fist then he rose up and smashed his elbow into Phillip’s cheek, cracking bone. Phillip went down in pain and Nicholas finally had the chance to finish him, beat Phillip DeAvoy to death for all he’d done, all he’d been part of.
He stood up and stepped out of bounds, finishing the fight.
He’d seen savages. He’d lived among them in the jungles of the south. He wasn’t one of them.
When he passed the dungeon keeper, the old man gave him a nod of approval.
Nicholas didn’t need it. Living under the harsh hands of the men above him, he’d learned the value of mercy, for it was the most difficult thing to give away.
He started up the stairs and didn’t come to a window for two more sets. When he did, he saw that the sun was beginning to rise.
He heard the sound of footsteps moving quickly toward him. He scowled at himself for not carrying his weapon.
A guard turned the bend and saw him. “My lord, men approach. One claims to be your brother, Torin MacPherson, Warden of the Western Marches, another says he is Rauf Hisfirstincommanddamnyou!”
Nicholas smiled and then hurried with the messenger not far behind toward the doors.
Suddenly he stopped and looked toward Julianna’s room.
Torin was coming.
Hell.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Margaret braided Julianna’shair into three parts then blended the plaits into one that fell like a burnished rope to her waist.
“He was very sick,” Margaret told her. “I think two ribs were broken and there was an arrow in this shoulder that Rauf and I had to remove.”
Julianna’s face grew red with anger. How much more would Phillip be able to hurt them? She wanted to march to the dungeon and poison him now that she had her adornments back.
The thought of Berengaria stopped her.
She looked toward the older woman tidying her bed coverings. Hers was the first face Julianna had seen that morning. She’d arrived early with warm tea and hot porridge and sweet butter. Julianna loved having her back—even though she wasn’t completely back yet.
They needed Elias back to be a family. It made her heart swell thinking about it. Nicholas loved her. But his suffering, brought about by Phillip’s decision to attack Lismoor, was too much. But when Margaret advised her of Molly’s death, she knew forgiving Phillip was, at least for now, impossible.
“I swear Rauf would have carried him in his arms if he had to.”
Julianna smiled, knowing that Rauf was Nicholas’ most loyal friend.
She wondered where Nicholas was. When had he left her bed? She remembered them naked and her heart began to race making her flush. They had almost made love but Phillip appeared in her thoughts and wouldn’t leave. Things he had done to her flashed across her mind and brought fear where desire and passion should have been. She felt terrible about it. She knew Nicholas would never hurt her. She had told him while she lay falling asleep in his arms. He wanted her to leave England and go with him and Elias to the Highlands. He’d be giving up his title and land. There was nothing to think about. Of course she would go.
“He was very strong and very brave to travel in his condition,” Margaret told her. “One thing drove him to recover. You.”
They heard horses outside in the small courtyard. Margaret went to look out the window. “A group of men—oh, ’tis Rauf!”
