Emeline knew she had to intervene before the men came to blows. “Stop it, Samuel! Stop saying these things.”
He never took his eyes from the other man. “Why?”
“Please, Samuel, come away from Jasper.”
“Why?” Samuel finally turned his eyes, glancing quickly from her to Jasper. “Who is he to you?”
She bit her lip. “A friend. He’s—”
But Jasper spoke for himself. “I’m her fiancé.”
Chapter Seven
All lauded the captain of the guard for his bravery, strength, and loyalty, although many wondered why such a man would stubbornly refuse to speak even one word. But what really put the feather in Iron Heart’s cap was when he saved the king’s life a third time. The castle was attacked by a fire-breathing dragon, and Iron Heart fended off the loathsome beast with great swings of his sword. After this, the king pronounced that there was only one award fit for such a gallant man. He must guard the king’s most precious possession—the princess royal herself....
—from Iron Heart
“Fiancé?” Sam felt as if he’d taken a fist to the gut.
His lungs deflated, the breath leaving his body with a whoosh as he slowly turned his head and met Lady Emeline’s sweet black eyes.
“We haven’t formally announced it yet, but we’ve had an understanding for ages,” she whispered.
How could this woman be engaged to another man and he not know it? It was as if he’d suddenly lost something that he’d not fully been aware of wanting in the first place. Which was lunacy. She was a titled aristocrat, the daughter, sister, mother, and widow of titled aristocrats. Her world was so far outside of his that he might as well be a child trying to grasp the moon in the night sky.
Impossible.
But he had no more time for further thoughts on Lady Emeline. This was the wrong place, anyway. If he’d not been made ill by the smell of other men’s bodies, if he’d not had that overpowering memory of the massacre, he never would’ve chosen to accuse Vale here. But having done it, there was no point in regrets.
“I didn’t betray us,” Vale said. He was standing casually now, yet the man looked as if he were ready to attack.
Sam tensed.
At the same time, Rebecca touched his shoulder. “Come away, Samuel. Please come away.” And he saw that she was trying not to cry. God, what had he done?
“You didn’t seem insane six years ago when I knew you,” Vale said conversationally. “What makes you think we were betrayed?”
Sam eyed him. Vale had the type of face that one instinctively trusted, a funny, open countenance habitually wrapped in a smile. Of course, Sam had known several men who smiled when they killed. “You were in debt to Lieutenant Clemmons. Everyone knew that.”
“So?”
“So, Clemmons died in the massacre, effectively nullifying the debt.”
Vale gave an incredulous bark of laughter. “You think I killed two hundred and forty-six men so I wouldn’t have to pay my debt to Clemmons? You are mad.”
Maybe he was. Rebecca stood crying behind him, and Lady Emeline was watching him warily as if he might suddenly try to climb the walls. Vale stared at him with no fear in his eyes.
Sam remembered how the viscount had looked that day, astride his horse, trying to reach Colonel Darby through the mess of fighting men. The bay had been shot out from under Vale, and Sam had seen him jump clear of the falling horse. Stand and open wide his mouth in a battle cry Sam hadn’t heard, swing his sword savagely, and watch in despair as Darby was pulled from his own horse and killed. And then Vale had continued fighting even as the battle was clearly lost.
Sam should be apologizing to Vale and backing away. This man couldn’t be the traitor. But something inside whispered, A brave man isn’t necessarily an honest man. MacDonald had been a brave soldier, too, before his arrest. Deep in his belly, Sam needed to find out the truth of Spinner’s Falls.
Lady Emeline shook herself as if coming out of a trance and marched to the doors, her small back militantly straight. A footman was lingering there, gawking at the spectacle, and she pointed at him. “You. Bring some wine and biscuits, please. Thank you.” And she firmly closed the doors on his face.
“Is that all you have?” Vale asked. “My gambling debts led you to believe that I’d betrayed our regiment, then had myself captured by Indians and Reynaud killed?”
Lady Emeline flinched. Vale didn’t seem to notice.
Sam hadn’t wanted to speak of this in front of her, but now it was inevitable. “There was a letter detailing our plans to march to Fort Edward. It included a map with drawings that could be deciphered by the Indians.”