why, I asked him to meet us at the postern of the keep. He should have little difficulty in taking you to La Seyne’s encampment, and from there …”
His voice trailed away, not quite as confident in finishing as it had been at the outset.
“What about you, Eduard? I cannot run to safety knowing I have left you behind to suffer in my stead.”
The young squire’s shoulders squared and there was a fierce determination emanating from his eyes.
“Lady Servanne, your safety is all that matters right now. I have borne the brunt of the Dragon’s anger before, and I will bear it this time with no complaint if it serves to spare you but a moment’s fear or discomfort. I … thought about my position a great deal after I left here last night, and I know now my honour would not be compromised by leaving this place and seeking service elsewhere. I … hope one day I might meet my real father. But if not, if there is some reason why he would prefer not to see me, or to know me—”
“Oh Eduard, no. No! He will welcome and accept you most proudly, I am certain of it. As certain as I am that you must come with us now. What can you hope to gain by appearing without me? A few minutes’ time?”
“A few minutes,” he said haltingly, “could make all the difference.”
“At what cost?” she asked gently. “And how would I explain to your father that I left you behind? Biddy—fetch our cloaks … and the robe over by the firebox. We shall all go together, or not at all.”
“Sweet Saint Agnes, we are lost,” Biddy cried. But she complied with the order and, in a spurt of conscientiousness, hastened to retrieve her mistress’s jewel box from behind the small curtained niche in the corner of the room.
“Our best hope,” Servanne was saying, still fighting the look of uncertainty on Eduard’s face, “is to seek refuge with La Seyne Sur Mer—the man who is not only your father but the man I love and intend to marry.”
“Over my dead and rotting body, madam,” came a darkly familiar voice from the doorway of the anteroom.
Servanne blanched and dropped the belt and points she had been holding. Eduard merely stood his ground as Etienne Wardieu came slowly into the room. A pace behind, her eyes glittering with malice and irrepressible pleasure, was Nicolaa de la Haye.
24
“So,” hissed the golden-haired Dragon of Bloodmoor Keep. “The man you love, is he? The man you intend to marry?”
Servanne lifted her chin and held it firm. “I would most surely never marry you, my lord, knowing you betrayed your own father and stole your brother’s name and birthright through a cowardly act of murder.”
A fine, taut white line of tension delineated the rim of each nostril as the Dragon drew a slow breath. “My brother’s tongue seems to have grown looser over the years. He has some proof to bear out these outrageous claims? Or has he merely bewitched you in some way?”
“She says she loves him,” Nicolaa said dryly. “One need not speculate too long or too hard over just how this bewitchment was accomplished; I dare say the proof was thrust between her thighs a time or two for good measure.”
A warm flush suffused Servanne’s cheeks, deepening with the effort it was taking not to glance toward the niche on the opposite wall. Biddy was standing there, half in, half out from behind the thick velvet curtain, her eyes as round as medallions, her mouth gaping open in shock and fright. She had not been seen yet, and instinct as much as fear was prompting her to let the curtain fall back into place, concealing her within the niche. Eduard, bless his presence of mind, moved closer to Servanne, his action steering the Dragon’s attention away from the niche.
“Shall I think of a suitable punishment for her, my love?” Nicolaa drawled. “Or would you prefer to just let D’Aeth use his imagination? He might find her an amusing change from the stable boys he toys with. Why”—her gaze flicked to Eduard—“he could even alternate between the two to keep his interest fully peaked.”
The Dragon walked slowly toward Servanne and Eduard. Servanne had not thought it was possible for her to become any more frightened than she already was, but the look in his eyes mocked her supposition and she experienced a cold rush of terror that locked her spine stiff