“Aye,” he said firmly. “As hard as you can. And then scream at me and tell me what a bastard I am. It will show them that you truly hope I rot for what I did to Babylon. You must be convincing, love.”
Nicola sighed. She understood what he was saying and she knew that it was a necessary ruse, especially if she was going to try and gain information about their future plans for Kenton. It was important that St. John and the rest of them believe there was no love lost between her and Kenton le Bec.
“Very well,” she said, standing up. But first, she bent down to kiss his cheek, the one she was about to slap. “Hopefully this will take the sting out of what I will do.”
He grinned, touching his face where she had kissed him. “It will undoubtedly,” he said softly. “Now hit me,hard.”
Nicola hesitated a moment before hauling off and slapping him across the face so hard that his head snapped. She looked at him in horror for a split second but all he did was grin, putting his hand to the cheek that was already turning an angry shade of red. She began screaming at him.
“You contemptable bastard!” she yelled. “How dare you… you smashed his tomb! You smashed it! I told you not to do it, Ibeggedyou, but you still did it! How could you have destroyed Gaylord’s tomb like that?”
Her screams brought the cavalry. The door swung open and St. John and Saxilby appeared. Nicola saw the door fly open from the corner of her eye and she launched herself at Kenton, slapping him in the head and trying to kick him. St. John moved swiftly to pull the angry lady away, but Nicola struggled against him, swinging her fists in Kenton’s direction.
“I… want… my…vengeance!” she grunted, trying to hit Kenton. “You will not deny me my right!”
Saxilby was beside himself, putting himself between the swinging lady and the seated prisoner. “My lady,please,” he begged. “Please calm yourself!”
Pretending to be furious was fairly easy for Nicola. She lashed out a booted foot and caught Saxilby in the knee. “But you do not know what he has done!” she screeched. “He smashed my husband’s tomb and… and he tried to steal my children!”
St. John had her around the waist, easily lifting her and carrying her to the door. “Come along, my lady,” he said calmly. “You are simply overwrought from the events of the past few weeks. You must rest and I am sure you will return to reason.”
Nicola was struggling and twisting, now trying to hit St. John. “Nay!” she yelled, grabbing on to the door frame as he tried to pull her through. “I will not leave! I must stay and punish him!”
St. John and one of the armed guards outside the door had to peel her hands off the door frame in order to pull her completely from the room; it was clear that she was not going easily. She was fighting and yelling the entire way. Kenton could hear her as St. John took her down the steps, his calm voice against her frenzied one. When their voices faded away, Saxilby, who was still in the room, turned to Kenton.
“God’s Bones,” he hissed in relief now that Lady Thorne had been taken away. “What on earth did you say to the woman?”
Kenton shrugged carelessly, standing up from his bed. “I do not know what set her off,” he said. “She is volatile as it is, so it could have been anything. We were discussing my incarceration, the condition of Babylon after the siege. I told her I should have sold her children off into slavery because they were wild ruffians and suddenly the woman becomes enraged.”
Saxilby frowned at the man. “You said that you should have sold herchildren?”
“Aye. They serve no purpose in a military installation, which was what Babylon was after I confiscated it.”
Saxilby shook his head in disbelief. “I was worried about her attacking you,” he muttered. “I should have been more worried aboutyouprovokingher.”
Kenton merely shrugged and turned to the window, his usual position. He was trying to convey disinterest in Lady Thorne, hoping he was able to do it adequately. “She said what she wanted to say,” he said. “Mayhap she will leave me alone from now on.”
Saxilby wriggled his eyebrows, turning for the door. “I have a feeling she might sneak up here to try and stick a dagger in your ribs,” he said. “Make sure you watch that door, le Bec. If Lady Thorne manages to bribe the guards to let her in, you may have to fight for your life.”
Kenton shrugged again, as if he didn’t care in the least, and Saxilby left the room without another word. When the door shut and he heard the bolt thrown, that was when Kenton’s guard came down.
Bravo, love,he thought.
The man had a smile on his face for the rest of the day, for the hope he had prayed for, had wished for, was indeed alive and well. Hope, and love, had worked miracles.
Now they would see if it could work another.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Outside of Wakefield, Yorkshire
Warwick’s encampment
Trembling and terrified,Brome St. John’s sister stood by the brazier in Warwick’s big, lush tent, wrapped up in a heavy blanket that one of Warwick’s advisors had given her. Standing next to her was Lord Pollard, trying to speak with her, but Lady Katryne refused to speak at all. She was traumatized and furious and frightened, a volatile combination.
Warwick had been away from camp when Katryne had been brought in early in the morning and was only now returning as the day neared noon. The woman had spent several hours in Warwick’s tent, ignoring Pollard and weeping on occasion when Warwick, weary from his ride and not in the best of moods, finally made an appearance. De Russe and Wellesbourne were with him and when the three men entered the tent, especially the two enormous knights, Lady Katryne stiffened with terror.
“My lord,” Pollard said, eyeing the terrified woman. “You have a guest. Allow me to introduce….”
