“Several,” he replied with a wry smile, “and to no avail.”
She rang for a servant and asked the sleepy footman who responded for towels and hot water.
“I hope it made you feel better,” she said tartly.
“It did, rather. Briefly.” His eyeslooked bleak.
Nora accepted a basin of water and towels and began to wipe the blood and grime from his face. He batted her hands away and sat upright.
“Any word?” he asked Castellimonte.
“It may come in the morning,” the old man said.
“What may come?” Nora asked.
“The kidnappers’ demands,” Jamie said, watching the count.
“We have money,” Nora said. “Isabella’s inheritance may serve.”
“They don’t want money,” Jamie told her. Castellimonte remained silent. “They will want something from our friend here. Isn’t that so?” He sounded angry.
“Probably. Yes,” Castellimonte agreed.
“You will work with them,” Nora said.
“We will see what they want first,” Castellimonte replied.
“But you must!” Nora protested. “Isabella is in danger.”
Too much time had passed. Too many fears plagued her. Too many secretive looks passed between these men. “You must!” she insisted. She could feel tears threatening to overwhelm her. She willed herself not to wilt.
“We will know soon enough what can be done. Whoever did this wishes to humiliate my house and take power over me. I cannot say what we will do until we know.”
Nora faced the count. She opened her mouth to demand his cooperation but immediately sank back. The count had as little power as she did until the kidnappers contacted him. The starch went out of her spine.
Jamie wrapped her in her velvet cloak; he must have ordered it before he even came to her. His arm guided her from the palace, speaking softly to their escort. She allowed him to lead her home in a daze.
Only when they had been admitted by Wat who stood at alert, only when he had led her to his bed and undressed her, only when they lay side by side and his warmth seeped into her, did she speak.
“Is that the great and terrible secret?” she asked.
“What secret?”
“The one you’ve been hiding. The one that has made you unhappy.”
He kissed her hair while he ran his hand up her side.For comfort,she thought,not for passion. He leaned up and kissed her mouth, looking down with dark sad eyes before pulling her so that her head rested in the hollow space below his shoulder and his arm curled around her. She couldn’t see his eyes, and she thought he wouldn’t answer.
“Yes,” he said at last. “That was it.” His hoarse voice rasped over the words.
“Someone wishes to pressure Castellimonte, and they are using Isabella to do it.” He didn’t contradict her.
“Power,” she spat, suddenly angry. “Those who have it, abuse it. Those who don’t, abuse others to get it. I hate the nobility. I hate the whole damned upper class.”
Jamie went very still. She could hear his heart beating beneath her, fast and hard. After what felt like an age, he kissed her hair.
“That’s my wise, Nora,” he said. “Once this is over, avoid the bastards, all of them.”
Jamie worea rut in the carpet of the Castellimonte’s private office for two hours before word came, goaded by the knowledge that he had failed the women in his life again. He had slept fitfully and left a swollen-eyed Nora, too exhausted to rise, behind in spite of her protests to the contrary.
