Terror swept her.
“Lia,” she gasped as she stepped over the bench and tried not to fall. “Go to my chamber, lass, and wait for me. I must speak with your grandfather!”
“Nay,” Oscar snapped, yanking Randa so hard that she finally lost her balance and fell to her knees. “I gave you an order, woman. Get out!”
“No one is going anywhere,” Ophelia said as she watched Oscar manhandle her mother. “Then it is true, isn’t it? If it were not true, you would not have such a reaction. Youaretrying to destroy Blackchurch!”
Oscar was torn between Randa’s clumsiness and his granddaughter’s boldness. He wanted Randa out so he could wrap his hands around Ophelia’s throat without a witness, but Randa wasn’t leaving. She was wallowing on the ground, imagining she was hurt.
The woman always had been a weakling.
“What I do is none of your affair,” he growled. “You would do well to shut your mouth this instant or face my wrath.”
Ophelia could hear the danger in his voice. Dark, murky, terrifying danger. Stricken with a sense of self-protection, she stood up and moved away from the table, in the direction of the hearth. She no longer had Creston’s lovely dagger, so she grabbed the only weapon she could get her hands on. A sharp, heavy fire poker ended up in her grip and she was fully prepared to defend herself with it.
“I willnotshut my mouth,” she said steadily. “I came to tell you that Blackchurch knows of your plot. You have been discovered. I, therefore, have the satisfaction of looking you in the eye and telling you that the people at Blackchurch are my friends and I will not allow you to destroy them. The man you betrothed me to is the most wonderful, loving man I’ve ever had the good fortune to know. I have a life there, a beautiful world, which is something you did not expect. I am certain that once I was married, you never gave me another thought. I could have been beaten to death by my new husband, or starved, and you would not have cared, but the reality is this—you did me a favor when you married me to Creston de Royans. For that fact alone, I am doing you a favor by telling you the truth. I am giving you the chance to cease your behavior and plead forgiveness. If you do not, then Blackchurchwilldeal with you. And they will kill you.”
Oscar stared at her. He still had Randa in his grip, but he shoved her down again just as she was trying to get to her feet. The contempt in his expression as he moved toward Ophelia was blatant.
“The Great Beauty of Dorset has found her courage at last,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “It is a pity that courage is misplaced. You spout threats and accusations and believe you will emerge unscathed, but you have taken this a step too far,Ophelia de Camville. You have threatened me and I have a right to defend myself against threats.”
That wasn’t the reaction Ophelia was expecting. She had expected some sort of discussion, confession. An argument, even. Anything but the impending disaster she was sensing.
The fire poker went up.
“Come no closer,” she said sternly. “I will not hesitate to use this if you do. Kill me and my husband will make sure your death is as painful as possible. He will take great pleasure in it.”
Oscar came to a halt, but it was only temporary. He looked her over, top to bottom, ripples of disgust moving across his features.
“Brave, brave Ophelia,” he said mockingly. “Ophelia with a bastard in her belly. When the child is born,ifthe child is born, I hope de Royans discovers that it is not his and steps on its head. You deserve nothing less for your shameful behavior.”
Ophelia smiled thinly. “He knows the child is not his,” she said. “I told him before we were married.”
That brought pause to Oscar. “Is that so?” he said, surprised. “And he still married you?”
“He did.”
Oscar shook his head. “Then he is a bigger fool than I thought.”
“Untrue. He just wants your earldom.”
She made it sound like Creston was greedy because she knew that would upset her grandfather. She wanted him to know that he wasn’t able to slip something past Creston because, in the end, the earldom was more valuable than anything Oscar could do to trick him.
She wanted him to know that Creston fought dirty, too.
“I see,” Oscar said in a tone that suggested her barb had hit its mark. “If that is true, then I feel obligated to tell you that I willsimply marry again and have sons. If de Royans married you just for the earldom, he is to be sorely disappointed.”
It was becoming like a chess match between them. She would make one move and he would make another, each trying to outsmart the other. But Ophelia wasn’t going to let the man gain the upper hand.
“He will not be disappointed,” she said. “Even if you marry again, you’ve proven that you can only produce female children. Moreover, what father is going to allow his daughter to marry you? You are no prize, Oscar, even with the earldom.”
It was a gibe at his ego, and it was a direct hit. He stiffened, eyeing her with great hostility. Perhaps he was just a little surprised that his usually obedient granddaughter was taking a stand.
He didn’t like it in the least.
“Mayhap,” he said casually. “But, then again, neither were you. Let me explain something to you, Ophelia—you may as well know that your betrothal to de Royans was part of the greater plan. If anyone is to blame for what Blackchurch is facing, it should be you. You did this to them.”
“And how is that?”
