She stared at the food she no longer desired, and heard Bernard say behind her, “His enemy? A woman? What could you have done to earn his enmity?”
Only rape him and steal his child. But that was a crime so appalling in her own mind, she would never willingly admit it to anyone. Warrick would likely change his mind and murder her if she did, because at least half his hate must come from the fact that such could have been done tohim, so powerful a lord.
So she did not answer the question, saying dejectedly instead, “Do you mean to take me to him, do so. I am finished here.”
The cook returned with the butler then, and hurried over to her. “You did not care for leftovers, girl?”
“’Twas excellent fare, Master Blouet, merely have I had my fill. And I will be sure to eat at normal times henceforth so you are not disturbed again.”
He waved that aside. “The babe must have nourishment. I will see that you have extra portions at your meals.”
“Nay, you need not—”
“Lord Warrick would have it so.”
And whatever Lord Warrick would have, so it would be done.
Rowena ground her teeth together and headed out of the kitchen. But before she reached the stone steps, she was picked up from behind, just like before. Only she did not feel secure in these arms. She felt as if she was about to fall.
“Put medown, Bernard. I am perfectly capable—”
“Perverse,” he huffed to himself as he trudged up the stairs. “She would rather catch her death so that I will be flayed alive. Utterly perverse.”
“’Tis more like I will break my neck when you drop me, you fool.”
“’Tis chivalrous to assist all women—but next time wear shoes, Mistress.”
Hewas complaining? Rowena would have boxed his ears if she did not think he would drop her in startlement. God save her from aspiring knights.
“There,” he said at last, and set her quickly on her feet. “The wooden floor is not so cold. I needs catch my breath, but you may go on.”
She could, could she? Rowena decided to be as perverse as he had called her.
“How would you know how cold the floor is when your feet are not bare? My toes are freezing. You will have to carry me after all.”
He was standing there laboring for every breath. The dark hall stretched long before them, with only a torch at the far end to light the narrow path through the sleeping bodies of the servants.
Bernard looked at her in horror. “Ah—mayhap you could wear my shoes instead?”
“Mayhap I will return to my own bed.”
His horror magnified. “You cannot do that!”
“Watch me, sirrah.”
She turned and started down the path, but no more than five seconds had passed before she was picked up again. Now Bernard was angry, and it came out in biting scorn.
“Your ladylike airs do not become you, Mistress. Think you the lord’s favor elevates you to that status? It does not, and best you remember that.”
His words stung, prompting a thoughtless reply. “I do not need elevation to a status already mine. ’Tis yourgood and benevolentlord who would make me other than what I am, which is Lady of—” Her common sense returned before she blurted out “Tures.” “Kirkburough,” she amended. “Which he did recently destroy.”
“You lie, wench.”
“And you sound like your master, lout,” she retorted. “Verily, the only thing I lied about was the freezing of my toes. Now put me down!”
He did, half dropping her as the strength in his arms gave out. But little good it did her, for they had reached the antechamber to the solar, and the door to the inner chamber stood open—and promptly filled with the presence of her nemesis, drawn by her raised voice.
“What ails you?” Warrick asked his squire, for the boy was truly wheezing now.
