WolfeStrike (De Wolfe Pack Generations #2) - Kathryn Le Veque Page 0,114

nodded unsteadily. “Aye,” she said. “But what should I say?”

“Tell her that you wish to show her something,” she said, sounding annoyed. “Tell her that you are very sorry for everything we have done and we wish to show her something… nay… give her something. Tell her you wish to give her something and it is in the kitchen yard near the postern gate. If she demands to know what it is, tell her that it is a surprise. Beg her forgiveness if you must, but get her out to that postern gate.”

By the time she was finished, her voice was lifting and she was becoming animated. Lenore nodded, cowering in the face of her sister’s irritation.

“I will,” she said. “Shall I go now?”

Barbara looked at Joah, propped up on his elbows. “Can you do this now?”

Joah sat up completely, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “As soon as you pay me, I can.”

Barbara ran for the door. Her money was in the chamber she shared with Lenore in the keep, one of those massive chambers that was luxurious but too vast to hold a goodly amount of heat in the wintertime. Even so, she and Lenore had shared one since their arrival to Blackpool and it was where they kept all of their precious possessions.

“I will return,” she said as she put her hand on the latch. “Lenore, help him with whatever he needs so that he is well prepared. I will locate Isalyn so that you know where to seek her. We must do this swiftly and silently, before Tor discovers what has happened. And, Sir Joah… you must flee faster than you have ever fled in your life. If Tor catches you, he will kill you.”

Joah didn’t seem too concerned. “I need my possessions,” he said. “I need my sword. Where are they?”

“They were brought here,” Lenore said, pointing quickly to a corner where Joah’s possessions had been dumped when he was brought to the chamber. “Everything is here.”

Joah hadn’t noticed them because he’d been in a supine position, but now his gaze drifted over the pile, visually inspecting it.

“Excellent,” he said, returning his attention to Barbara. “Go and get my money. And do not worry… I will make sure Lady Isalyn does not return. You have my word.”

That was all Barbara wanted to hear and she fled the chamber.

The plans were in motion.

Isalyn kept looking at the ring on her finger, smiling and daydreaming even as Isabella was chatting up a storm about the beautiful dress that Tor had purchased for their wedding. Already, she was pulling out her sewing kit, a grand one that she traveled with, preparing to help Isalyn hem up the bottom and reinforce the stitching on both the shift and the dress. Isalyn didn’t have a sewing kit and, worse, she was forced to admit that she wasn’t a very good seamstress.

But Isabella was an excellent seamstress and she was armed with her trusty needle. She was preparing to go to work when a knock in the door interrupted them. Isabella was closer to the door so she went to open it, revealing a pale-looking Lenore on the other side.

Immediately, there was tension in the air.

Isabella and Isalyn knew that Barbara and Lenore were moving freely at Blackpool and they further knew that the sick traveler the women were tending was in the chamber that Isalyn had escaped from on the first floor, but with the heavy density of the stone walls and the way the stairs were built into the walls themselves, they hadn’t heard any of the comings and goings from upstairs. The chamber shared by Isalyn and Isabella was tucked away from the entry door to the apartment building, so they had been quite happy forgetting about the harpies, as Isalyn called them.

Perhaps viper was a kinder name.

But perhaps not.

“What do you want, Lenore?” Isalyn asked impatiently.

Lenore didn’t try to come into the chamber. She stood in the doorway, her gaze moving from Isalyn to Isabella and back again.

“I… I came to speak to you, my lady,” she said, her voice trembling. “May we speak in private?”

Isalyn shook her head. “Nay,” she said. “If you have something to say, you may say it in front of Isabella. We have no secrets.”

Lenore’s features tightened with uncertainty but realizing she had no choice, she nodded and swallowed hard.

“I wanted to say,” she said, stopped, and then started again. “I wanted to tell you how sorry my sister