herself to keep her head down, to continue the prayer that had only a fraction of her attention, before crossing herself again and looking upward.
“Where is Friar Parkin?” she asked, sitting back on her heels.
“You didn’t really want to see him, did you? I thought we were going to make plans for your future.”
There was something about the smug expression in his bri g h t blue eyes, the faint swagger in his muscular body, that sent a chill of apprehension through Elspeth. “I had wanted to make my confession.”
“Make it to me, my lady. I’d delight to hear the details. You m u s t have h i d d e n talents, to turn Alistair into such a wreck. I’ve never tried a nun.”
Her back stiffened. “You said you would help me .”
“ And so I will. I want you to come away with me, dear lady. Alistair doesn’t want you, but I do. I have no objections to taking his leavings—I’ve done so often enough. My home is small but snug, and I’m certain I can keep you well distracted. I’ m considered a talented lover.”
The man was actually preening . Elspeth held her hands together tightly, afraid he might see she was trembling. There was something dark and evil in the ancient chapel, something she’d never felt before, and never in the presence of her supposedly wicked husband.
“I h a v e no need for a lover,” she said calmly. “I wish only for my husband.”
“But he doesn’t wish for you.”
She tried not to flinch at his bald pronouncement. “I think he does. He just doesn’t want to admit it.”
De Lancey sauntered into the chapel, coming up close to her, and once again she noticed the long, jeweled dagger at his belt. “It m ak e s no difference, dear lady,” he said. “He’s not going to have you. You weaken him, and he must be strong, merciless. I intend to see to it.”
She saw his move coming bare moments before he made it. The jeweled knife flashed out, but she had al ready ducked, rolling along the dust-laden floor, h e r blood-red dress wrapped ar o u n d her.
She wasn’t fast enough. He l e a pe d for her, and she felt the s u d d e n stinging pain in her neck before she kicked him, hard, scrambling away on her hands and knees as he howled in rage. She made it only a few f e e t before she was brought up short, the am p l e material of the dress caught i n the intricate carving of the altar.
“Little bitch , ” Gilles pant e d, crawling a f t e r her. “I’ll cut your throat like I did those other whores. Everyone is terrified of the high and mighty sh e ri f f of Huntingdon, but l i ttl e do t h e y know it’ s me they’re frightened of. I’ m the one who’s made a pact with the d e v i l. I’m the one who will do w h a t needs to be d o n e . Including g e tt i n g rid of you. I’m t h e real power here, the terror. And those fools d on ’t even be g i n to realize it.”
“Most edifying, cousin.” Alistair’s bored v o i c e came from the back of the chapel. “You may be far more merciless than I am, but you lack o n e essential ingredient for success in this life.”
It took Gilles only a moment to recover from his shock. He scrambled to his feet, the knife still gripped in one hand, and Elspeth could see the bright red of her blood on the shiny blade. “And what’s th a t, my lord sheriff ? ” Gilles s a i d mockingly. “A sense of h uman ity? Decency? Honor?”
“Heavens, no,” Alistair replied. “I’ve never been troubled much by those. What you lack, dear Gilles, is intelligence. Had you been blessed w i t h it, you would have known that I h a v e n’t trusted you for months. I was wai ti n g for you to betray yourself. I knew you would s oon er or l a t e r . I rather thought I’ d catch you with that poor girl, but unfortunately, I w a s distracted by my bride. That will be remedied.”
“Cousin,” Gilles said, suddenly persuasive, “I’ve done it all for you. You rule by terror, yet you’ve been able to keep your conscience clean.
“Where is Friar Parkin?” she asked, sitting back on her heels.
“You didn’t really want to see him, did you? I thought we were going to make plans for your future.”
There was something about the smug expression in his bri g h t blue eyes, the faint swagger in his muscular body, that sent a chill of apprehension through Elspeth. “I had wanted to make my confession.”
“Make it to me, my lady. I’d delight to hear the details. You m u s t have h i d d e n talents, to turn Alistair into such a wreck. I’ve never tried a nun.”
Her back stiffened. “You said you would help me .”
“ And so I will. I want you to come away with me, dear lady. Alistair doesn’t want you, but I do. I have no objections to taking his leavings—I’ve done so often enough. My home is small but snug, and I’m certain I can keep you well distracted. I’ m considered a talented lover.”
The man was actually preening . Elspeth held her hands together tightly, afraid he might see she was trembling. There was something dark and evil in the ancient chapel, something she’d never felt before, and never in the presence of her supposedly wicked husband.
“I h a v e no need for a lover,” she said calmly. “I wish only for my husband.”
“But he doesn’t wish for you.”
She tried not to flinch at his bald pronouncement. “I think he does. He just doesn’t want to admit it.”
De Lancey sauntered into the chapel, coming up close to her, and once again she noticed the long, jeweled dagger at his belt. “It m ak e s no difference, dear lady,” he said. “He’s not going to have you. You weaken him, and he must be strong, merciless. I intend to see to it.”
She saw his move coming bare moments before he made it. The jeweled knife flashed out, but she had al ready ducked, rolling along the dust-laden floor, h e r blood-red dress wrapped ar o u n d her.
She wasn’t fast enough. He l e a pe d for her, and she felt the s u d d e n stinging pain in her neck before she kicked him, hard, scrambling away on her hands and knees as he howled in rage. She made it only a few f e e t before she was brought up short, the am p l e material of the dress caught i n the intricate carving of the altar.
“Little bitch , ” Gilles pant e d, crawling a f t e r her. “I’ll cut your throat like I did those other whores. Everyone is terrified of the high and mighty sh e ri f f of Huntingdon, but l i ttl e do t h e y know it’ s me they’re frightened of. I’ m the one who’s made a pact with the d e v i l. I’m the one who will do w h a t needs to be d o n e . Including g e tt i n g rid of you. I’m t h e real power here, the terror. And those fools d on ’t even be g i n to realize it.”
“Most edifying, cousin.” Alistair’s bored v o i c e came from the back of the chapel. “You may be far more merciless than I am, but you lack o n e essential ingredient for success in this life.”
It took Gilles only a moment to recover from his shock. He scrambled to his feet, the knife still gripped in one hand, and Elspeth could see the bright red of her blood on the shiny blade. “And what’s th a t, my lord sheriff ? ” Gilles s a i d mockingly. “A sense of h uman ity? Decency? Honor?”
“Heavens, no,” Alistair replied. “I’ve never been troubled much by those. What you lack, dear Gilles, is intelligence. Had you been blessed w i t h it, you would have known that I h a v e n’t trusted you for months. I was wai ti n g for you to betray yourself. I knew you would s oon er or l a t e r . I rather thought I’ d catch you with that poor girl, but unfortunately, I w a s distracted by my bride. That will be remedied.”
“Cousin,” Gilles said, suddenly persuasive, “I’ve done it all for you. You rule by terror, yet you’ve been able to keep your conscience clean.
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