been kenned to do foolish things. Heed me, MacNairn, I willna stand by and be pushed aside by you. I will ne‘er allow you to savor a victory o’er me.”
Lady Margaret pushed past Ainslee and strode away. The chill of the woman’s hissed threat caused Ainslee to shudder as she hurried to her bedchamber. The room was intended to be her prison cell, but, more and more, it began to look like the only safe haven within the walls of Bellefleur.
Seven
A chill tore up Ainslee’s spine. She wrapped her heavy cloak more tightly around herself, and looked around the shadowed bailey. For the two days since Lady Margaret had threatened her, Ainslee had been playing a dangerous game, but she began to think it was far more dangerous than she had realized. She had ceased trying to completely elude Gabel, although she had been successful in not getting caught alone with the man, and had even begun to flirt with him, something she was not sure she did with any great skill. The looks of fury Lady Margaret had sent her way had been satisfying, even amusing. Ainslee decided her humor may have been seriously misplaced.
She looked around again and still saw nothing of her constant guard. The plump, jovial Vincent now shared the guard duty with Michael, and should have been plodding along behind her. He had been at his post when she had left her bedchamber, and she was sure he had started to follow her. Somewhere between her bedchamber and the bailey, the man had disappeared, and Ainslee had a good idea of where he had gone or, more precisely, of who had led him astray. Lady Margaret’s maid had been flirting outrageously with both Michael and Vincent. Michael had found the maid’s lascivious attentions amusing, but Vincent had clearly been aroused. Ainslee was certain that the man had finally succumbed and slipped away with the woman. What troubled her was why Lady Margaret’s maid should be luring her guards away.
“And, whatever reason Lady Margaret has for wishing me to be left alone, it canna be a good one,” she muttered, deciding to limit her walk to one complete circle of the keep.
It was pride forcing her to meander around the bailey as had become her habit, despite the fact that all of her instincts warned her of danger. The wise thing to do would be to hurry back inside and place herself amongst Gabel’s people. Lady Margaret would never try to harm her with Gabel or his kinsmen close at hand. Ainslee kept walking and prayed that she was simply allowing her mistrust of Lady Margaret make her see daggers in every shadow.
A soft scraping noise above her roused Ainslee from her musings, and she paused to look up. She saw only the faintest of movements at one of the few wider windows of the keep, but a wave of alarm swept through her. Ainslee flattened herself against the cold, damp wall of the keep. An instant later a huge stone plunged down from the window above, passing so close to her that it brushed against her skirts.
Although she heard another sound from above, Ainslee resisted the urge to look. It was undoubtedly the person who had tossed the rock down, but, to see clearly, Ainslee would have to step away from the wall, and she did not dare risk it. For a long time she remained pressed to the wall, staring at the rock. It had required a great deal of effort and stealth to carry such a large stone into the keep and heave it out of the window. It had also been intended to land on her, undoubtedly to kill her. Ainslee knew that Lady Margaret had planned the attack just as surely as she knew it would be impossible to prove. What truly frightened her was the cold determination to kill her that was revealed by such an attack.
Staying close to the wall and continuously glancing upward, Ainslee made her way back to the entrance of the keep. She no longer cared if it looked like the most ignominious of retreats. Pride would have to sacrifice itself to the need to survive. She also needed to rethink all her plans for
Lady Margaret pushed past Ainslee and strode away. The chill of the woman’s hissed threat caused Ainslee to shudder as she hurried to her bedchamber. The room was intended to be her prison cell, but, more and more, it began to look like the only safe haven within the walls of Bellefleur.
Seven
A chill tore up Ainslee’s spine. She wrapped her heavy cloak more tightly around herself, and looked around the shadowed bailey. For the two days since Lady Margaret had threatened her, Ainslee had been playing a dangerous game, but she began to think it was far more dangerous than she had realized. She had ceased trying to completely elude Gabel, although she had been successful in not getting caught alone with the man, and had even begun to flirt with him, something she was not sure she did with any great skill. The looks of fury Lady Margaret had sent her way had been satisfying, even amusing. Ainslee decided her humor may have been seriously misplaced.
She looked around again and still saw nothing of her constant guard. The plump, jovial Vincent now shared the guard duty with Michael, and should have been plodding along behind her. He had been at his post when she had left her bedchamber, and she was sure he had started to follow her. Somewhere between her bedchamber and the bailey, the man had disappeared, and Ainslee had a good idea of where he had gone or, more precisely, of who had led him astray. Lady Margaret’s maid had been flirting outrageously with both Michael and Vincent. Michael had found the maid’s lascivious attentions amusing, but Vincent had clearly been aroused. Ainslee was certain that the man had finally succumbed and slipped away with the woman. What troubled her was why Lady Margaret’s maid should be luring her guards away.
“And, whatever reason Lady Margaret has for wishing me to be left alone, it canna be a good one,” she muttered, deciding to limit her walk to one complete circle of the keep.
It was pride forcing her to meander around the bailey as had become her habit, despite the fact that all of her instincts warned her of danger. The wise thing to do would be to hurry back inside and place herself amongst Gabel’s people. Lady Margaret would never try to harm her with Gabel or his kinsmen close at hand. Ainslee kept walking and prayed that she was simply allowing her mistrust of Lady Margaret make her see daggers in every shadow.
A soft scraping noise above her roused Ainslee from her musings, and she paused to look up. She saw only the faintest of movements at one of the few wider windows of the keep, but a wave of alarm swept through her. Ainslee flattened herself against the cold, damp wall of the keep. An instant later a huge stone plunged down from the window above, passing so close to her that it brushed against her skirts.
Although she heard another sound from above, Ainslee resisted the urge to look. It was undoubtedly the person who had tossed the rock down, but, to see clearly, Ainslee would have to step away from the wall, and she did not dare risk it. For a long time she remained pressed to the wall, staring at the rock. It had required a great deal of effort and stealth to carry such a large stone into the keep and heave it out of the window. It had also been intended to land on her, undoubtedly to kill her. Ainslee knew that Lady Margaret had planned the attack just as surely as she knew it would be impossible to prove. What truly frightened her was the cold determination to kill her that was revealed by such an attack.
Staying close to the wall and continuously glancing upward, Ainslee made her way back to the entrance of the keep. She no longer cared if it looked like the most ignominious of retreats. Pride would have to sacrifice itself to the need to survive. She also needed to rethink all her plans for
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