completely.”
He strode away, leaving a threat as clear as a shot from a catapult through the front door of the keep.
So he didn’t trust her . Well, then, she would just have to redirect his suspicion and offer Quigley to him to help with his findings.
Better yet, she’d offer herself.
As bailiff, of course. Only that.
Will you marry him, Talia?
Absolutely not.
He’s the best one yet.
She couldn’t let that matter.
Couldn’t allow herself the luxury of letting down her guard for a moment. Not even out here on this beautiful spit of land that gave a panoramic view of everything that was dear to her.
The quay and its boats. The tiny, sloping village with its ramshackle cottages and the plots of land behind them, the old barns and the abandoned workshops.
The cross in the square and its spoke of lanes.The common fields and their empty rows, the hills and orchards and the forest beyond.
And standing above the remarkably peaceful setting was the castle itself.
Ancient and stout. Thick walls of stone, six limestone towers, battlements of timber here and stone there. Rickety in places, solid in others.
Home. Her father’s legacy.
Too big for the ocean bluff, looking sadly awkward and out of place now, embarrassed at the attention it received from those who came to it without love.
No longer a center of strength and protection for everyone for miles around, but a magnet for greed and violence.
A tempting prize.
A corpse. A mistake that would kill them all if she didn’t do something about it.
A devastating truth that she’d come to realize only recently—if not for the castle itself, no one would pay a moment’s attention to the little village in the snug valley that rolled peacefully down into the sea. The war would pass them by unnoticed. Her family could live safely there, they and all the people who depended on her.
Her heart still lugged with the weight of her awful decision. To purposely raze her dear Carrisford to the ground, to reduce it to a heap of stones, to nothing but a memory.
They’d begun undermining two of the tower cellars a month ago, shoring as they went, weakening the walls just enough so that a final, fiery conflagration would make the castle unsalvageable.
Working around de Monteneau would be far more difficult than it had been with Rufus. But it was the only way.
She and Jasper would start again in a day or two, after they had learned de Monteneau’s routine.
“C’n we go put Radish in his basket, Talia? He needs a nap.”
“I know how he feels.”
Talia watched the girls run off, her heart in her throat, wishing that there was another way, praying that they would all make it through another winter.
And another lord.
One who was too vigilant.
Too rational.
Too…willing to rescue a rabbit named Radish.
Chapter 8
T hat was a very heroic thing you did, my lord.
Hardly, madam. He’d felt the sting of heroism, and rescuing a pet rabbit from drowning wasn’t it.
He’d felt her smile, her amazement as he slogged out into the mud. Hell’s hounds, he couldn’t very well have let the woman do it herself.
Though she seemed capable, and utterly determined to take care of everything for leagues. A woman whose heart was too big for her own good.
He heard the now familiar drumming of running footsteps coming up behind him. Tiny footsteps, tiny feet. And all that squealing.
“Lord Alex, Lord Alex!” They dashed aroundhim, her sisters, stopping him at the foot of the incline below the drawbridge, their joy making him feel old and used up.
“Have you lost another rabbit?”
“No,” Lissa said, grinning up at him, “we just wanted to say thank you again.”
And then they went speeding off up the incline, leaving an unexpected emptiness inside him and a compelling urge to turn back and find Talia.
But he reined in his far-ranging thoughts, and entered the cart-cluttered bailey, on the lookout for Dougal among them, and his precise inventory. He came around the
He strode away, leaving a threat as clear as a shot from a catapult through the front door of the keep.
So he didn’t trust her . Well, then, she would just have to redirect his suspicion and offer Quigley to him to help with his findings.
Better yet, she’d offer herself.
As bailiff, of course. Only that.
Will you marry him, Talia?
Absolutely not.
He’s the best one yet.
She couldn’t let that matter.
Couldn’t allow herself the luxury of letting down her guard for a moment. Not even out here on this beautiful spit of land that gave a panoramic view of everything that was dear to her.
The quay and its boats. The tiny, sloping village with its ramshackle cottages and the plots of land behind them, the old barns and the abandoned workshops.
The cross in the square and its spoke of lanes.The common fields and their empty rows, the hills and orchards and the forest beyond.
And standing above the remarkably peaceful setting was the castle itself.
Ancient and stout. Thick walls of stone, six limestone towers, battlements of timber here and stone there. Rickety in places, solid in others.
Home. Her father’s legacy.
Too big for the ocean bluff, looking sadly awkward and out of place now, embarrassed at the attention it received from those who came to it without love.
No longer a center of strength and protection for everyone for miles around, but a magnet for greed and violence.
A tempting prize.
A corpse. A mistake that would kill them all if she didn’t do something about it.
A devastating truth that she’d come to realize only recently—if not for the castle itself, no one would pay a moment’s attention to the little village in the snug valley that rolled peacefully down into the sea. The war would pass them by unnoticed. Her family could live safely there, they and all the people who depended on her.
Her heart still lugged with the weight of her awful decision. To purposely raze her dear Carrisford to the ground, to reduce it to a heap of stones, to nothing but a memory.
They’d begun undermining two of the tower cellars a month ago, shoring as they went, weakening the walls just enough so that a final, fiery conflagration would make the castle unsalvageable.
Working around de Monteneau would be far more difficult than it had been with Rufus. But it was the only way.
She and Jasper would start again in a day or two, after they had learned de Monteneau’s routine.
“C’n we go put Radish in his basket, Talia? He needs a nap.”
“I know how he feels.”
Talia watched the girls run off, her heart in her throat, wishing that there was another way, praying that they would all make it through another winter.
And another lord.
One who was too vigilant.
Too rational.
Too…willing to rescue a rabbit named Radish.
Chapter 8
T hat was a very heroic thing you did, my lord.
Hardly, madam. He’d felt the sting of heroism, and rescuing a pet rabbit from drowning wasn’t it.
He’d felt her smile, her amazement as he slogged out into the mud. Hell’s hounds, he couldn’t very well have let the woman do it herself.
Though she seemed capable, and utterly determined to take care of everything for leagues. A woman whose heart was too big for her own good.
He heard the now familiar drumming of running footsteps coming up behind him. Tiny footsteps, tiny feet. And all that squealing.
“Lord Alex, Lord Alex!” They dashed aroundhim, her sisters, stopping him at the foot of the incline below the drawbridge, their joy making him feel old and used up.
“Have you lost another rabbit?”
“No,” Lissa said, grinning up at him, “we just wanted to say thank you again.”
And then they went speeding off up the incline, leaving an unexpected emptiness inside him and a compelling urge to turn back and find Talia.
But he reined in his far-ranging thoughts, and entered the cart-cluttered bailey, on the lookout for Dougal among them, and his precise inventory. He came around the
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