tumblers cart-wheeled into the centre of the hall and in a blink of an eye, the huge room was vibrating with music and laughter.
Servanne paced away an anxious morning and half an afternoon before the expected visitor was announced into her chambers. Biddy had been dispatched on a series of errands to keep her occupied elsewhere, and Servanne was alone when Geoffrey, the page, escorted Friar into her solar.
In the presence of their young witness, Alaric continued smoothly in his role, conveying his intentions to discuss the upcoming wedding and any fears the bride might be experiencing in regards to her future role as the Baroness de Gournay. Servanne’s responses were equally civil, her mood seemingly as genial as she instructed Geoffrey to fetch a flask of wine from the kitchens and perhaps some small sweetmeats with which she could tempt the palate of her exalted guest.
With Geoffrey scurrying away to comply, Servanne and Alaric were left alone, passing the first full minute in heavy silence.
“Are you mad?” she asked finally. “Have you completely lost your senses coming here like this?”
He glanced down at his voluminous black robes and flicked a speck of lint off the long sleeve. “It was a necessary ruse to get inside the castle. I thought I carried the role rather well.”
“Gil Golden and the others: Do they feel as comfortable sitting among men who would have their heads skewered on pikes at the first hint of betrayal?”
“Their fates—and mine—rest solely in your hands, my lady. Our lives are yours to do with what you will.”
“I do not thank you for the responsibility!” she exclaimed angrily. “You were so sure I would not betray you in the hall?”
“I was hoping you would not.” “That is no answer.”
“Then give me an honest question and I will attempt to better it.”
Servanne paced to the window. “You take a great deal upon yourself, Friar. He takes a great deal upon himself as well, assuming I will not reveal the lot of you to Wardieu.”
“Lucien … has a great deal of respect for human nature,” Friar said easily. “He did not think you were the kind of woman who reveled in blood sport.”
“Or revenge?”
Friar gave his shoulders a small shrug. “We had to take the chance.”
“Lucien,” she said, testing the name on her tongue, “should not be so sure of himself all the time. It could win him more trouble than he can handle.”
“He is already balancing more trouble than he can handle, my lady, although he would be the last to admit it.”
“Oh? How so? Has he run out of women to kidnap and abbeys to desecrate?”
Alaric ignored the sarcasm, though its presence was a good sign. “He knew he would have to face his brother one way or another. That is not the trouble he finds himself in, as well you know.”
“I know he has a penchant for playing games with people’s lives,” she said and turned away. “I suspect it amuses him to act the part of a cat in a roomful of mice; to corner each mouse in turn and worry it half to death before discarding it to stalk another.”
“He has not discarded you, my lady,” Alaric said quietly. “In truth, he has been behaving like a scalded cat from the moment you rode away from the abbey.”
“I did not ride away, sirrah. I was sent away. Thrown away, if you will, once I was no longer of any use to him.”
“Come now, you do not believe that.”
“Do I not?” she demanded, whirling back to confront him. “What would you have me believe of a man who lives and breathes revenge to the exclusion of all else?”
Alaric sighed. “He is a proud and stubborn man who thought his pride and stubbornness should outweigh any softer feelings that might be dangerous to you both if he allowed them to intrude on his emotions.”
“Softer feelings? Emotions?” She scorned the notion with a bitter laugh. “He has neither, my lord. He is cold and heartless; arrogant and self-righteous and contemptuous of anything and everything that does not suit his purpose. I suited his purpose, but only insofar as my wedding to his brother provided the perfect opportunity to display his cunningness to the world. He has no heart, no soul. He cares for nothing but his own skin and does nothing that does not further his own vainglory! That is what I believe!”
Friar drew a deep breath. “Then perhaps you should know a thing or two about him—things