what of exposing the prince who arranged this? As clearly Lady Nicola has made a conquest of the lad, I cannot be hasty. I must think to the future when he may be powerful enough to work great displeasure on me for revealing his deception to De Warenne.”
Silently, Vitalis cursed that, at best, he could sound a warning should Daryl’s body reveal ahead of great movement he intended to assault Nicola.
“So what does that leave me, Vitalis? You can do naught caged as you are. Even if you risked punishment of the lady, the prince, and the guards by calling for aid, there is little chance you will be heard since this cellar is constructed to ensure those above are not disturbed by what goes below. True, the termagant will fight me, but in the end…” He clicked his tongue. “…you will be unable to do more than watch as—”
“Nicola!” Vitalis warned, but she sprang ahead of Daryl who had just begun to bunch his muscles.
The knave threw an arm high to block her dagger, but there was more to her training than delivering one blow and hoping it landed. As anyone versed in arms must be, she was prepared for failure. While Vitalis shouted and pounded on the door, she prevented the miscreant from drawing his own dagger by stepping near, slicing her blade up beneath the arm that thwarted her first strike, and as Daryl attempted to block that as well, slammed a knee up between his legs.
He shouted, stumbled against the wall alongside the guard’s station, and folded over.
Nicola leapt backward. Gaining the door of Vitalis’s cell, she looked around. “I thought that through,” she gasped, her crimson-edged blade evidencing she had, indeed. “What I dealt is far from what Maël suffered at Hastings, but it should scar.”
She was proud of herself, and she had cause to be, but now was not the time to indulge in having bettered Daryl.
Chest tight, throat raw, Vitalis said for what seemed the dozenth time, “Go, Nicola.”
“But—”
“He is all the more dangerous for the pride dealt a near lethal blow by a woman. When he recovers, he will be stronger and less concerned about consequences.”
“Vitalis—”
“Nicola, there is naught he can do to me from that side of this locked door, and soon the guards will return. If he has enough sense, he will be gone as well.”
With a reluctant nod, she slid her fingers through the grate.
Vitalis gripped and released them.
“I wish I could be Hawisa to you,” she whispered. “More, I wish you to live, Vitalis.”
His heart felt as if squeezed hard, and not because of what had happened here. Because she was not and could never be Hawisa, and he did not wish her to be. He wanted her to be Nicola to him. Simply—were that possible—Nicola.
“I shall tell your cousin what transpired here,” he said and glimpsed distress in her eyes, but also understanding. Even had Daryl not appeared, her kin would need to know she had come below so they could prevent her from doing so again. Since Daryl had appeared, their vigil must be more painstaking to ensure he was afforded no opportunity to avenge himself on her.
“Leave,” he said.
She ran.
Expecting Daryl to loose more threats before he withdrew, Vitalis remained before the grate. However, when the traitor managed to straighten his back, he pressed a hand to his bloodied face and, eyes averted, went from sight.
Vitalis took the half stride to his pallet, lowered, set his back against the wall, and tipped up his face. “Lord, if You answer no other prayers for me, answer this—keep Nicola safe. And where she cannot be wise, be wise for her.”
When the guards returned, he settled on his side and listened to their talk to learn if they knew what had transpired in their absence.
Oblivious, he concluded, then attempted to clear his thoughts of the woman he did not want to love.
Chapter Twenty-Two
When was one D’Argent or another not disappointed in or frustrated with her? Rather than disheartened, by now she ought to simply accept it was not possible to please everyone—too, that they were only trying to protect her. And with good cause.
Still, to open the door every morn since that night and find one of her kin outside it was maddening, and not only because it made her feel helpless. Because of the guilt of wasting their time and sacrificing their comfort to ensure her good behavior.
Dougray pushed off the wall alongside the pallet on which