“Aye. I have come to believe that he bears with me only because he cares for my father, and, of course, for Belleterre. He is now my father’s heir, and Belleterre is a very rich holding.”
“If he put you aside, Belleterre would still be his. At least he could battle your father and your greedy cousin for ownership.”
“You are likely right,” Kassia said thoughtfully. She turned suddenly to face him. “Edmund,” she said, unaware that she had used his name, “are you holding me for ransom?”
“And if I were?” he asked evenly.
She shrugged, a helpless smile curving up her mouth. “I only wondered. I do not know what Graelam would do.”
Saint Peter’s teeth, he cursed silently. She was naught but a little chick, as innocent and trusting as a child. He had thought to rape her—what man would not? He had thought even to keep her until he tired of her, mayhap even kill her to save the expense of sending her to Brittany. The surge of protectiveness he felt for her alarmed him. He jumped to his feet.
“You weary me with your chatter.”
She flinched at the harshness of his voice, and he felt like a man who has just kicked a small animal.
“Kassia, sleep now. We will speak further in the morning.”
He tossed her a blanket and walked to the other side of the fire.
She wrapped herself in the blanket and curled up in a tight ball. Why had he not raped her as he had Blanche? She shivered. Perhaps he still would rape her. Perhaps his seeming kindness was all a sham. She shook her head, wondering if she would ever understand any man. Her last thought before she slept was of a bloody battle between her father and Graelam for possession of Belleterre.
Dienwald handed her a hunk of bread. “Eat,” he said, and turned to speak to his men.
She chewed the dry bread slowly, wishing she had a goblet of milk. Her fear, in abeyance the night before, had returned full measure when he had awakened her at dawn. She swallowed the bread and waited for him to return.
“What will you do with me?” she asked, looking up at him.
“I will tell you whilst we ride,” he said.
Ned tossed her up into Dienwald’s arms. She settled herself, and waited for him to speak.
“Why do you not let me ride my mare?” she asked at last.
“I don’t know,” he said.
“I cannot escape you.”
“I know.”
“Edmund, please tell me what you intend. I am very afraid.”
She felt his arm tighten around her and winced.
“Kassia, if I gave you the choice, would you prefer to return to your father in Brittany or to Wolffeton, to your husband?”
“If you are asking me who is more likely to pay you a ransom, I do not know.”
“I am not asking you that. Answer me.”
She sighed. “I cannot allow my husband to claim Belleterre and fight my father. If you gave me the choice, I would return to Wolffeton. It is where I belong.”
“Do you care for your husband?”
Dienwald expected a vehement denial. For many moments she said nothing.
He slowed his destrier to a walk, and Kassia found herself staring unseeing at the sharp-fanged boulders in a near hillside. She swallowed convulsively, remembering yet again Graelam’s kindness to her when she had first come to Wolffeton. His gentleness when he had taken her to his bed. His concern at her pain. What had she done to make him despise her? The stupid material she had taken to sew him a new tunic? She wasn’t aware that tears were slipping down her cheeks.
“I am stupid,” she said in a choked voice.