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“I don’t think there’s anything here that would tell us much, but since Burnell didn’t have a solar, his bedchamber would be the closest thing to one,” Oria said and went to the chair at the table scooping up something draped over the chair. “My shawl. I had forgotten I left it here.”

Royden turned away, the shawl a reminder that she had shared this room with Burnell. He tried to avoid looking at the bed, but his eyes seemed to have a will of their own. The blankets were neatly folded back, the pillows plumped, and he tried not to think of Oria sleeping there in Burnell’s arms night after night. Unfortunately, his mind thought differently and he couldn’t get the image of Burnell driving his manhood into her again and again and again. Though how a man his age and of frail health was capable of it puzzled him. Another thought invaded his mind that flared his anger. Had Burnell made Oria ride him?

Royden wanted to punch something or someone. He held onto his temper, barely, and ordered. “Let’s go.”

Oria gave one last look around the room and offered a silent prayer. Rest in Peace, Burnell.

Royden followed her out the door and when she went up the stairs instead of down, he asked, “Where do you go?”

“My bedchamber,” she said and continued up the stairs.

A sense of relief stabbed at his gut that she hadn’t slept every night in Burnell’s bed. He followed her into her room, bending his head the doorway too low for him, and stopped just inside. It was so small there was no place for him to go. There was barely room for the narrow bed. A chair sat beside the bed and the fireplace wasn’t big enough to hold any sizeable log which meant the fire had to constantly be replenished. And the tapestry that covered the lone, narrow window did little good from stopping the cold from getting in. How many cold, winter nights had the fire gone out while she slept, leaving her to wake icy and shivering? She had not had it easy living here and that got him wondering what else she had endured during his absence.

“It’s small but it was sufficient for me,” she said, knowing what he was thinking just by the questionable look in his dark eyes. “When it got too cold I stayed in the Great Hall for the night.”

The image of her cuddled by the fire by herself tore at his heart.

“Why not seek the warmth of your husband’s bed?” he asked, not that he wanted to think of her doing so but at least she’d have been kept warm.

“Burnell often didn’t feel well and I didn’t want to disturb him,” she said and lifted the chair.

“What are you doing?” Royden asked and took the chair from her.

“Place it by the window. I want to show you something,” she said.

When he saw that she intended to climb up on it, her head just reaching the bottom of the window, he coiled his arm around her waist and lifted her to stand on the chair.

“Look,” she said, pushing the tapestry aside.

The bottom of the window reached his chin so he was able to easily see out it. He was amazed at the distance one could see, since no woods blocked the landscape.

“I woke one night, shivering, and was going to add logs to the fire but first hurried to see if it was snowing. Depending on which way the wind blows, the snow sometimes fell past the tapestry into my room. Instead of heating a room I wouldn’t be able to stay in, I looked out the window to determine if I should seek the warmth of the Great Hall. A light snow was falling, but it was what I saw in the distance that turned me cold. A troop—a large troop—approached the keep, torches flickering and bouncing as they drew closer. At first I thought it might be an attack, but I realized they rode at a tempered pace, not at all in a hurry.”

“Tell me you remained safe in your room,” he said, worried for her safety even though the incident was in the past.

Her hand went to her scar. “I wasn’t about to leave myself vulnerable. I was already dressed, it being far too cold to sleep in only my nightdress, but I waited since it would take time for the group to reach the keep. When I thought the time right, I took careful and silent steps down the stairs only to find that a warrior was stationed at the bottom. I kept myself hidden and tried to listen to see what I could hear, but there was too much talk to distinguish any particular voice.”

While he wished she hadn’t taken such a dangerous chance, and relieved she hadn’t been harmed, he was glad that she had. It had provided more information, more pieces to the puzzle.


Tags: Donna Fletcher Highland Promise Trilogy Romance