“I would have done anything to save my father that day,” he said quietly, “but I was only five years of age and had not the strength, the knowledge, or the skill. Because I could not save him then, I have made it my mission in life to seek vengeance against the man who murdered him and you are a part of that plan. I am sorry if that if distasteful to you, but that is the way of things.”
Allaston stared into his bright blue eyes. There was pain in her features. “But I love my father just as you loved yours,” she admitted. “If you kill my father, you will be hurting me as deeply as you were hurt those years ago. Would you truly wish that pain upon me?”
Bretton found that he was having difficulty concentrating with her mesmerizing eyes fixed upon him pleadingly. It unbalanced him because he could feel something more than just a mere fixation. He could feel something warm spark. He’d never felt that kind of thing before and it startled him. He didn’t understand his reaction. What he didn’t understand, he didn’t like.
“You are of no consequence,” he said, his manner bordering on cold. “Whatever pain you feel is not my concern. I must do as I must and you will have to accept it.”
Allaston sat back as if he had slapped her. Tears began to form in her eyes as the weight of his words settled. There was no changing his mind, she knew. She had tried to reason with him, to be kind to him, to fight him, and to submit to him. She had tried everything. Everything except one last final offering. She was at her lowest point, knowing what she had to do and dreading it. It took every last ounce of courage she had to speak the words.
“My fatherismy concern,” she whispered. “I cannot talk you out of doing such a terrible deed, for your mind is set. But if it is a de Velt you want to kill, then instead of my father, mayhap you will consider me. If it is only de Velt blood you seek, I can give you mine.”
Bretton’s expression didn’t change. “It is not your blood I want.”
“But you want de Velt blood,” she insisted. “Killing my father will bring you nothing, but if you kill me, then you are assured of hurting my father as badly as he has hurt you. Take my life, deLlion. It is worthless now anyway, for as your prisoner, all will assume you will have had your way with me. Everything I stand for is ruined. Take my life and send my body back to my father and I can assure you that he will be greatly hurt. I will willingly let you kill me if you will only cease your bloodlust against him. If you truly want to make the man suffer, then you must take my life to accomplish that.”
She made sense, which concerned him. He didn’t like the fact that she made utter and complete sense and, to a logical man, it was worth considering. Although he had always considered himself logical, he knew without a doubt that he could not kill her. Something about this woman intrigued him like no other human being ever had. She was fiercely loyal, intelligent, brave, and beautiful. He had trouble accepting a de Velt could be all of these things, but Lady Allaston was.
“Mayhap,” he said after a moment because he didn’t want her to suspect his reluctance to kill her. He thought the best way to control her was for her to never know what he was thinking, especially in matters like this. “I will think on your proposal. Meanwhile, you will come with me.”
Allaston was emotionally edgy from her plea, now wary of his directive. “Why?” she asked. “Where are we going?”
“Back to the keep.”
Allaston blinked, bewildered by the thought. “But why?”
Bretton stood up. “Because it is warmer there,” he said. When she didn’t move, he lifted his eyebrows at her. “Do you prefer it here?”
She didn’t. Allaston shook her head unsteadily and struggled to stand. “Are you going to kill me there?”
Bretton reached down and pulled her to her feet. She didn’t weigh much and he ended up nearly launching her because he pulled so hard. That being the case, he had to reach out to steady her and stop her momentum.
“I am not going to kill you at the moment,” he said. “But I will punish you for trying to bash my brains in.”
Allaston wasn’t sure she liked the sound of that. “How am I to be punished?”
He was evasive. “I will tell you in time,” he said. “But until then, you must promise me something.”
Allaston was unsteady on her feet, trying not to step on the hem of her cloak as she walked off of the straw. “What can I promise you?” she asked, baffled. “Even if I did, would you believe me after what I did?”
He turned to look at her as he headed out of the cell. “Would you break a promise to me?”
Her brow furrowed. “It depends on the promise.”
“Then you are not a lady of your word?”
She was growing frustrated again with his circular conversation. “God’s Beard,” she snapped softly. “Of course I am. What in the world do you want me to promise?”
Bretton fought off a grin at her irritation. “That you will never again crack me, or anyone, over the head with a poker or otherwise try to harm any of my men.”
Her frown grew. “You make it sound as if I am a murderess.”
His grin broke through then, he couldn’t help it. “You did go after a man twice your size with a poker,” he reminded her. “What if youarea murderess?”
“Then my promise will mean nothing for I will kill you in your sleep anyway.”
He snorted, humorously. “I will make sure to sleep with one eye open, then,” he said. “Will you promise me that you will never again be violent towards me or any of my men? If you cannot promise, then I will have to leave you down here and I do not think you want that.”
He was right, she didn’t. After a moment, she nodded. “Very well,” she said reluctantly. “You have my oath that I will not try to harm anyone again.”
