“My daughters might make use of these.”
He said it with such indifference, Mildred’s fear dissipated and her anger rose, though she was not stupid enough to let him hear it. “That is all she has left.”
He swung around to face her, and there was no lack of emotion in those baleful silver eyes, as there had been in his voice. “Nay, all she has left is the skin on her back, and what rags I choose to give her. Though I do not forget that I was allowed even less.”
Indifference? she had thought. Nay, merely another revenge, those clothes, but likely the least of all he intended. And she could think of no way to aid Rowena when he did not want to hear that she had been as much a victim as he. Verily, Rowena’s reasons wouldnotmatter to one such as he, who was not a serf, not a lowly knight, but a highborn lord. You simply did not do to a lord what they had done to him, and expect to live to tell of it.
Her fear returned, in abundance, but it still was not for herself. “You mean to kill her?”
“That pleasure would be too swift,” he said coldly. “Nay, I will not kill her. She is my prisoner. She will never be ransomed, she will never leave Fulkhurst. She will be at my mercy until the day she dies.”
“Do you have any?”
“For those who do me harm? Nay, Mistress, I do not.” He glanced about the chamber again before he asked, “Did Lyons have relatives?”
Mildred was too sick at heart over his answer to wonder at his query. “Aye, a brother, I think.”
“There will be naught but a blackened shell left for him,” he said. “But then there will be naught left for her brother either.”
Her eyes widened at his meaning. “You mean to burn the keep, too?”
“’Twas all done for this place, was it not?”
She did not understand vengeance so all-encompassing, but it was true that everything Rowena had been forced to do had been for Kirkburough. Mayhap she could understand after all. She would not be sorry to see this place burn, and knew that Rowena would not be sorry either, to have Gilbert thwarted in that way.
“What of the servants you will leave homeless?”
He shrugged, as if it were no matter to him, but he said, “I do not burn the town—except for the inn,” he added coldly. “The castlefolk can move to the town, or I will disperse them to my own lands, which would better their lot from the ragged look of them.” And then he looked at her more intently, and at her fine woolen bliaut, and concluded, “You did not make your home here, did you?”
“I came here only three days ago, when my lady was brought here.”
“Then you are free to return to your home.”
Back to Gilbert’s keep, which Fulkhurst was like to besiege in the near future? Or back to her true home at Tures, which he had already taken and Gilbert was determined to have back? Fine options, both to find her in the midst of war and destruction. But Mildred would not tell him that. If he did not know who Rowena was yet, or that her stepbrother was his avowed enemy, she would not be the one to tell him and thereby add to the vengeance he already sought.
“My home is lost,” was all she finally said.
He frowned at her, and it sent a chill up her spine, for it only made him look more cruel. “As I repay those who do me ill, I also repay those who do me a service. You may make your home at Fulkhurst Castle if you so wish.”
Where he had sent Rowena? Mildred had not expected that, could not credit this good fortune in the midst of total devastation.
But he saw her pleasure, understood it, and would have none of it. “Understand me, Mistress,” he added sharply. “Do you go to Fulkhurst Castle, ’twill be to serve me and mine, not her. Never again will you serve her. If you cannot give me your loyalty—”
“I can,” Mildred quickly assured him. “I will, and gladly.”
“Will you?” he shot back skeptically, the doubt clear in those telling silver eyes. “That remains to be seen. But mayhap you will give me the name of her brother?”
The implications of that name swirled in Mildred’s mind. Gilbert would not suffer for his knowing, any more than he would have if Fulkhurst ever found him, for he was already despised. ’Twas only Rowena who would suffer more for his knowing. He might even change his mind and kill her to have clear honors to her properties. Yet was he not like to learn Gilbert’s name while he was here? Nay, the servants knew him only as Lord Gilbert. And she doubted Fulkhurst would question every single man in the town.
“Why do you hesitate, Mistress?” he demanded. “Surely you know his name.”
Mildred stiffened her back to meet his full rage. “Aye, but I will not give it. Though she hates him, he is now the only hope she has of being rescued from your ‘mercy.’ I will not aid her, but I will not aid you against her either. Do you ask that of me, then I must decline your offer.”
He stared at her for a long moment before he said, “Why do you not fear me?”
“I do.”
He grunted. “You hide it well.”
