After knocking harder, louder, with no answer, Nicholas pushed open her door and entered her empty chambers.
He checked the great hall for her and the viscount’s room. Margaret hadn’t seen her. Berengaria was in her own room, alone.
Where was she? She wouldn’t leave Edlingham without Berengaria. Would she?
He started to hurry to the stables for his horse, but stopped suddenly.
Phillip.
Why would she go to Phillip? He didn’t want to waste time thinking of it—until he arrived in the dungeon. The old dungeon keeper was dead near the open door, his throat slit, his keys gone.
Nicholas kicked the door open fully and entered. The cell was empty.
Fear and rage boiled and bubbled to the surface and finally erupted. He shouted for his horse and did not stop to speak to a soul on his way back out. He ran to the stable and wasn’t surprised to see the groom dead in the hay.
Avalon had blood around her mouth. Good. Phillip tried to take her and she bit him. Hopefully there would be a trail of blood.
“Nicky!” Torin called out, hurrying to him. “What is goin’ on?”
Rauf was with him, as well as Lawson and Bamburgh. Good. He needed them all “’Tis DeAvoy. He has escaped and has taken Julianna.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Julianna opened hereyes and discovered that only one would obey her. The other was swollen shut. Bastard! Her lip didn’t feel any better when she tried to scowl. As she came more awake, she realized she was on a horse, in a man’s arms. In Phillip’s arms. His hands were on her. His touch repulsed her. She pushed his hands away. One was bleeding and wrapped in a makeshift bandage.
“Quit squirming!” Phillip commanded. “Or are you trying to fall from the horse?”
“What are you supposed to be doing, Phillip?”
“Supposed to be?” he echoed angrily.
“Aye! Supposed to be!” she barked right bark, tired of being afraid of him. “He will come for me and he will kill you and you are in no condition to fight!”
Phillip actually looked worried. But it didn’t last. He pulled her by the hair, keeping her balanced.
She wanted to kick him and bite him, do whatever she needed to do to get away from him, but his hold on her was strong and her movement was limited.
“Your William was so smug,” Phillip muttered. “He broke my nose and my cheekbone. But look who has you now.”
Oh! She was growing more livid by the second! She was not some prize to be won for any kind of show—or a fool to be tricked into thinking someone was a friend when, in fact, they were a murderer.
To think! William’s brother took down mighty Berwick. Was it fate that the brother of a little boy slave, purchased for a stone by her father, would bring about the end of her family?
“Your power has left you,” Phillip said against her ear and ran his hand over her throat to prove it.
“For now,” she replied, wanting to claw out his eyes.
“You are my wife lest you forget,” he purred, pushing up against her and making her ill. “I will remind you later.”
Her hands shook. Her mouth went dry and her heart accelerated. If he tried to…she would kill him first.
Something hard and long pressed against her back. The hilt of his dagger tucked into his belt.
Why was she waiting? She had a chance to kill him now. She had to take it.
She reached around her and grasped the hilt. She yanked it loose and without a moment’s hesitation, she flipped it in her hand and stabbed him in the guts with the blade.
His fist came around hard and smashed into the side of her head and knocked her off the horse. She landed on her side in the grass, got up, and started running.
