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19

Graelam listened to the furor of voices raging around him, but said nothing. Had he been capable of it, he would have smiled to hear Blount, that hard-nosed old goat, who never gave an inch, vociferously defend his lady. And Guy. Aye, had she come back because she could not bear to be separated from the young knight?

He rose from his chair and said in an emotionless voice that chilled Rolfe to his bones, “You will go about your duties now.” He saw the worry etched in many of the faces, and added shortly, “I have heard all of you. Go now.”

He did not wait to see if they obeyed him. It was only Kassia who had ever dared to disobey him. He walked up the stairs to his bedchamber. He paused a moment, hearing Kassia’s old nurse, Etta, sobbing loudly.

“Why, my baby?” the old woman was pleading, her voice hoarse from her crying. “Why did you do it?”

“Etta,” Kassia said, sighing softly, “I did nothing. You, of all people, should believe me.”

Graelam pushed open the door. He said nothing, merely motioned to the old nurse to leave. She slithered past him, her eyes puffy with weeping.

He stood quietly for a moment, looking at his wife. She was pale, but that little chin of hers was lifted in stubborn defiance. He wanted to wrap his fingers around her slender throat, but instead he asked, “Did the men rape you?”

Kassia shook her head. “Nay, I told you that they did not harm me.”

“I would think that such ruffians as Blanche described to me would not leave such a tempting morsel as yourself with her legs together and her belly empty.”

She winced at his crudeness, but said firmly, “Their leader, Edmund, was no ruffian. Indeed, his men called him ‘my lord.’ ”

“I know of no Edmund who is a lord in these parts.”

“I do not believe it was his real name.”

“Tell me, Kassia, what did this Edmund look like?”

She took heart at the quiet, interested tone of his voice. “He was not of your size, my lord. When I saw him closely, I was reminded of sand. His hair and eyes and brows were all of that strange hue. He knew of you. Indeed, I believe he feared you.”

Despite himself, Graelam searched his memory for a man of that description. There was none that he knew of. “And that is why he returned you to me? He feared retribution?”

“Nay,” she said honestly. “I told you, ’tis my belief that he felt sorry for me.” She paused a moment, then blurted out, “He asked me if I would prefer going to Brittany or returning here.”

“And what was your reason for returning, my lady?”

“He told me that even if I returned to Belleterre, you would still hold claim. That if you wished it, you could wage war upon my father for your rights. I could not allow that to happen.”

“Ah, behold the sacrificial little lamb.”

The menacing sneer in his voice made her close her eyes. “Please,” she whispered, desperate now, “you must believe me, Graelam.”

He regarded her thoughtfully, watching her pitiful defiance begin to crumble.

He said very softly, “Do you recall, my lady, what I told you I would do to you if you ever again tried to escape me?”

She remembered suddenly, and without thought, realizing what a ridiculous fool she was, she dashed frantically toward the door.

She felt his powerful arm lock around her waist and heave her up as if she were naught but a bag of feathers. If she struggled against him she would only hurt herself. She knew it well, but could not stop herself. She tried to twist from his grasp, but he only tightened his hold, and for an instant she felt the breath squeezed from her body.

Graelam eased her down upon her back on the bed. He sat back and regarded her intently, his fingers lightly touching her throat.

“You do not wish me to have you,” he said, his voice almost meditative. “Did you enjoy this Edmund’s caresses? Did he give you a woman’s pleasure?”

He saw the look of utter incomprehension in her wide eyes, and knew at least that she had told the truth about not being raped.

Kassia gulped. “Why will you not believe me? I have never lied.” Her expression flickered, and she quickly amended, “At least I have not lied since I was a child.”

He ignored her words. “Kassia, what did you use for payment?”


Tags: Catherine Coulter Medieval Song Historical