She looked up from her tangled and mangled sewing to see Ethbert entering her chambers. Frowning at the Saxon’s presence, she couldn’t imagine what he might want with her.
Not since he’d first come to their hall had he sought her out. “Milord, what brings you here?”
He moved to her side then paused as he caught sight of Cecile. With a stern frown, he watched the cat’s weaving path as she made her way across the floor.
A strange look crossed his face, and if Ariel didn’t know better, she’d swear the small kitten frightened him. His jaw twitched as if he longed to say something.
She waited for several heartbeats. When it looked as if he might continue his silence, Ariel gave him a patient smile. “Is something troubling you?”
He looked back at her, and she struggled to read him, but his emotions eluded her. “My brothers and I intend to leave within the hour, milady.”
She looked back at her sewing and took a careful stitch that still was a terrible one. “Then I bid you godspeed and safety.”
He knelt before her and took the needle from her hands. Staring up into her eyes, he reminded her of a supplicant seeking divine aid. “Dearest lady, if you wish, we can take you with us.”
Stunned, Ariel stared at him. Why would he say such a thing? “Pardon?”
He took a deep breath and touched her knee. “I know you ran away and that the Norman brought you back. If you still wish to flee him, we can take you. I assure you this time he’ll never find you.”
Was he insane?
“I have no wish to leave.”
He took her hands into his.
Startled by his touch, Ariel stiffened.
“Please, milady. Let me help you.”
Just as she opened her mouth to reply, a loud crash sounded from outside.
A gasp lodging in her throat, she tossed the tunic aside and ran to see what had happened.
As she entered the hall, she stopped, her heart pounding ever more.
Valteri lay in the center of the floor, a large, broken chandelier by his side. Wace stood over him, staring up at the ceiling.
A group of servants stood nearby, none moving. ’Twas as if they were too scared to breathe.
Crying out in fear, Ariel rushed to her husband. “Milord, are you all right?”
“It almost crushed him!” Wace said before Valteri could answer her question. “Never before have I seen such.” He gulped at her. “It just fell. For no reason.”
Ariel scanned the splintered wood and twisted iron that littered the area around Valteri. Wace was right. Another inch, and Valteri would have died instantly.
“Please forgive us, milord!” The servant closest to him wrung his hands in nervousness. “The rope slipped from poor Aldred’s hands while we were trying to replace the candles. ’Twas an accident, I swear it! We meant you no harm!”
Valteri pushed himself up and rubbed debris from his tunic. For a moment, suspicion darkened his eyes, but as he looked from the old man before him to the younger men, Aldred, who was huddled by the wall, terrified Valteri would beat them for the accident, that suspicion lifted and he relaxed. “Fear not. No damage done.”
“No damage!” Ariel gasped. “You could have died.”
As soon as she said the words, she realized what had happened.
The curse.
How could she have been so foolish as to not think of it immediately?
All these last weeks, it’d only remained dormant, lulling them into a false sense of security, waiting for a chance to catch them unawares.
