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“My husband rewarded Sir Walter by making him castellan of Crandall,” she said stiffly. “At least he is no longer at Wolffeton. He disliked me as much as he did you, I believe.”

Dienwald looked at her closely for a long moment, then moved his destrier closer to her mare. “Your message said only that you needed me, little chick. I see you have some baggage with you. And you sent me the necklace. What is it you wish?”

Kassia drew a deep breath. “I want to return home to Brittany, to my father. The necklace is payment.”

Dienwald stared hard at her, saw that she was quite serious, then threw back his head and roared with laughter. He quieted quickly enough. “So,” he said slowly, “that fool husband of yours has finally driven you away. The irony of it can’t have escaped you, little chick.”

“Aye, it has made me laugh as well. I would have been much wiser to let you return me to Belleterre the first time.”

He could not miss the bitterness in her voice. He noticed the bruised shadows beneath her expressive eyes, and said in a savage voice, “Did that bastard beat you?”

Kassia shook her head wearily. “I lost a babe through my own foolishness. I cannot really blame him for being angered, though I did not know I was with child.”

He saw her hands tug convulsively at her mare’s reins. “I am most sorry, Kassia. If you are certain this is what you wish, I will take you to your father.”

“It is what I must want,” she said quietly.

“He will come after you.”

“Perhaps, but I beg leave to doubt it. He is blessed with many powerful friends. It is more likely that he will have our marriage dissolved and marry a proper English lady. One who will most willingly accept her place.”

Dienwald cursed fluently, making the men behind him stare at him in surprise. She was so damned helpless and vulnerable and trusting. St. Peter’s teeth, how he wished he could knock some sense into Graelam’s thick head! He knew well enough that she loved her husband, else he would have begged her to let him care for her, to wipe the sadness from her eyes. He grew silent.

“Will you help me, Dienwald?”

“You are not content with what he gives you,” he said flatly. “What is the place you cannot accept?”

“Being treated as though I had no more importance than a brood mare . . . No, that is not precisely true.” She slashed her hand through the still air. “He does not love me and never will. I thought perhaps I could gain his trust, his esteem, but it was for naught. I can bear no more. I ask you again, Dienwald. Will you help me?”

“Aye, little chick.” He smiled ruefully. “It seems to be my fate to have my life intertwined with yours. I do not want the necklace, Kassia. I think the damned thing is cursed.”

“Nay, it is yours. I fancy that it will cost you much to get me to Brittany.”

He glanced at her oddly for a long moment. “You trust me not to take advantage of you?”

She looked surprised and cocked her head to one side. “Should I not trust you?”

“I did leave you in my cell at Wolffeton to face your husband.”

“Aye, but I understood. I would likely have done the same in your place. It is over now, and there is no need to speak of it again.”

“Very well, my lady. We will return to my keep for supplies. I will have you safe in your father’s hands within two weeks, I promise you.”

“Thank you, Dienwald. Please, keep the necklace. Any merchant will pay you greatly for it.” Her voice rose with cold determination as she saw him still hesitate. “I wish never to see it again.”

He nodded, then asked curiously, “How did you manage to leave Wolffeton without your husband’s knowledge?”

She gave a short, bitter laugh. “He left to visit the Duke of Cornwall, for what reason I know not. He was growing restless at Wolffeton. Perhaps there is some dispute the duke wishes him to settle. I did not even see him.”

Dienwald ignored the pain in her voice. “Good. Now I do not have to look over my shoulder! Come, little chick. We have some distance to go!”

“So, Graelam, you came more quickly than I had expected,” the Duke of Cornwall said as he eyed the younger man over his wine goblet.

“As your loyal and dutiful vassal, is it not what you would expect?” Graelam asked dryly.

The duke chuckled. “Aye, you are in the right of it, of course. Actually, I wished to have your opinion on Edward’s grandiose plans.”

“Ah, he chafes already under the weight of his kingly robes? I take it he is ready to journey to Wales?”


Tags: Catherine Coulter Medieval Song Historical