The Deed (28 page)

Aye. He threatened to beat me. Emma marveled even as she said that. It did seem she was
quite adept at this new skill of weaving tales. She was actually even beginning to enjoy
it somewhat.

He did not?

Oh, aye, she told him airily. And he is such a large man, I feared one beating would kill
me.

Oh, aye, twould, he agreed when she tried to look pathetic. Then he grimaced as he
admitted, My mother is over-fond of using her cane, but of course her beatings merely
hurt. They could not kill you.

Emma did not know what to say to that, so she merely nodded with a sympathetic expression.

Oh, my love! Bertrand suddenly cried, catching her to his chest. We have more in common
than I had ever hoped. We shall be so happy together. I swear, I shall do my utmost to
make it so. He emphasized that remark with a kiss that made Emma shudder inwardly.

My lord, please, she gasped as soon as he released her lips to trail his mouth wetly down
her throat. My womans time.

Oh, aye. Releasing her at once, he put a goodly ? space between them. I am sorry. I forget
myself. Tis just that I am so happy.

Aye, of course, Emma murmured with relief.

I can hardly wait to consummate our feelings. I will be a tender lover, my dear. You shall
never suffer under great clumsy paws such as Amaurys again.

I cannot say how that news affects me, Emma murmured archly, then forced a smile. Might I
have another refreshment, my lord? The last seems to have spilled. She picked up the
fallen tankard for proof as she spoke.

Oh, aye. Of course. Turning, he moved to the door and tugged it open to yell down the hall
after a servant.

I thought mayhap we could go below stairs to have one, she murmured as he closed the door.

Oh, no. Mother said you must stay locked up until... His voice died at Emmas frown. I am
sorry, my love, but Mother will have her way. Twill not be for long. As soon as Amaury is
dead, we shall be married and you shall be free.

Emma tried to withhold the groan that rose to her lips at that. She had hoped to be
allowed some free movement. At least enough that she might find a way to escape. It looked
as if she had failed somewhat.

Sighing, she moved to the window, peering down at the forest beyond the clearing. It was
not that far between the moat and the trees. If the room they had chosen for her prison
were only a little lower... On the first floor for instance, she could have jumped down
and... But it was not lower, she thought with a sigh.

Seeing her despondency, Bertrand frowned himself. I am sorry, he offered after a moment.
Is there anything I might gain you that would make your confinement more bearable? A
needle and thread to embroider with? Or a book?

When Emma remained silent, he sighed unhappily, longing on his face as he peered at her
outline in the dusty golden gown. Then he perked up suddenly. Mayhap you would like a
change of clothes? I had a gown made for you.

When she turned on him sharply, he shifted uncomfortably. Twas in case something like
this ever occurred.

Emma turned away with a sigh at his explanation, and sensed him shifting uncertainly
behind her.

Tis yellow, he tried. You would look lovely in it.

She would look jaundiced in it, Emma thought with a grimace. Yellow was not a favored
color on her, though gold was quite nice. It made little difference, however. Were she
naked, she would not have worn anything he had had made for her. The arrogance of the
action alone would have forced her to refuse it. She would rip any dress he brought her to
shreds and make a meal of the strips before donning the thing. She would sooner make a
rope of it and hang herself !

Rope? she breathed, her gaze dropping to the ground below the window.

What?

Turning abruptly, she smiled at him sweetly. Aye. A change of clothes would be nice. But
not nice enough to get her to the ground. What else could she ask for that they might
supply? Rags.

Bertrand blinked. Excuse me? I will need linens, my lord. A great many of them. Linens?

Aye. For my womans time. When he frowned slightly, her smile widened. I fear tis a
terrible trial. It lasts a great length of time and flows as freely as the Thames River. I
will need a great many linens. A great many.

A great many. His gaze dropped below her waist briefly and he actually began to look a bit
sickly. Emma was almost embarrassed by the enjoyment she suddenly experienced at his
discomfort.

Aye, I fear tis heavy enough I near drowned Amaury one night. Why, my maid says she has
never known a woman to bleed so much. She is amazed that I do not bleed to death each time
I... Is there anything amiss, my lord? You are looking fairly green just now.

Nay. Nay. Swallowing, he backed toward the door.

Nay. I shall have some linens sent to you at once. Stumbling out the door, he slammed it
heavily behind him, and Emma smiled widely as she turned back and leaned out the window to
survey the wall of the castle and the surrounding area. It was not completely unguarded.
There was a man posted on the corner, and another where the wall of the keep met the wall
surrounding the bailey, but she hoped that a combination of darkness and boredom might
work in her favor if she waited until night.

Moments after he left her, the door was opened again. The servant was returning with a
beverage to replace the one spilled. She also brought a lit candle. It was only then Emma
realized how late in the day it was getting. She would need the candle to work by soon,
she thought as another servant entered carrying a yellow gown and the clean linens. As he
had promised, Bertrand had sent a great many of the cloth strips. More than she had dared
hoped for, she saw as the woman set the gown and linens on the

bed.

Relaxing as the servants left and the door was barred once more, Emma picked the yellow
gown up and examined it. It was a frilly, fluffy thing. Far too young for her and ugly as
sin, but it would make good rope if ripped into strips. She turned to sort through the
linens then, amusement quirking her lips as she counted them. It seemed Bertrand had taken
her at her word. She really would have to flow like a river to need as many as he had sent
her.

Shrugging wryly, she sat back upon the bed and set to work ripping the gown into long
strips that she tied end to end. It took her much longer than she had expected, and her
hands began to ache with the effort, but once she was finished, she turned immediately to
the linens, unfolding, twisting, and knotting them to the end of her makeshift rope.

The sun was beginning to set when she heard the door being unbarred. Her heart skipping a
beat, Emma scrambled to quickly stuff the evidence of her escape efforts under a blanket,
then folded her hands in her lap as the door opened.

She was not terribly surprised to see Lady Ascot enter, but she was not terribly happy
either. Bracing herself inwardly, she tried for a pleasant expression as the woman
surveyed her.

My son says you are not pregnant.

Emma tried not to wince at the hard words. Aye.

You lied.

I already explained to Bertrand that Lord Amaury ordered me to

He told me.

Emma fell silent and waited.

He also told me that you love him. Bertrand.

She swallowed. This was the tricky part. I fear I have not known him long enough to lay
claim to that emotion, but tis true that I favor him over

You lie again. Emma went still at that. I Gytha told me. Emma raised her eyebrows, her
body tense. Told you what? He fawns over you like a starry-eyed fool. Amaury? Nay. He He
subjected himself to de Lasceys arrogance purely to please you.

She blinked at that.

He did not wish to shame you at court. Gytha heard him and Blake talking about it.

Emmas eyes widened at that. He had told her that he had decided to do it because his one
tunic had been ruined in the attack by the bandits.

She also said you enjoyed mating with him. Emma flushed beet red at that. I Set up a
caterwauling every night and some mornings.

Her mouth dropped open. Good God, had they made so much noise? Had the whole castle heard
them then? She would have to discuss this with Amaury. She would never be able to enjoy
his touch again if she thought the whole castle was listening.

Yet you told my son you loved him. Why? Before she could even think of something to say to
that, Lady Ascot continued. No doubt you were hoping for a chance to use him to escape. He
is conceited and foolish enough that it might work, she said thoughtfully, then stabbed
Emma with a stare. Were it not for me. But there is me, girl, so take heed. Twill not
happen. You will remain right here until de Aneford is dead. Then you will marry my son.

Not so long as there is breath in my body, Emma snapped furiously, giving up the pretense.
It seemed useless anyway.

Then you shall be killed.

She clamped her mouth shut at that.

Either way, my son shall haveEberhartCastle . Tis only right. It belongs to him. It should
have passed to him on Fulks death. She smiled suddenly. Now that we understand one
another, I shall leave you be. I doubt you have much appetite just now, so I shall tell
the servants not to bother with the tray they were arranging. Turning, she swept out of
the room.

Emma glared at the door grimly for several minutes, then tugged the linens back out from
under the blanket and continued determinedly at her work. Hours passed as she laboured.
She was about to attach the last of the strips of cloth when there was a light tap,
followed by the scraping of the bar being removed once more.

Cursing under her breath, she quickly stashed her makeshift rope beneath the covers again
as the door opened. It was Bertrand this time. Emma peered at him warily, unsure whether
his mother had told him of discovering her ruse. When he smiled slightly before turning to
close the door, she knew she had not.

Turning back to her, he opened his mouth, then paused as he took note of her dusty gown.
You are not wearing the gown I sent. Did you not like it?

Emma froze at that, cursing her own stupidity and pride, then forced a smile and lied, I
am such a fright I feared I might sully the gown just now. I thought to wear it on the
morrow after I bathe.

Oh. How clever of you. Relaxing, he moved forward. I heard Mother order the servants not
to bring

you any supper, so I brought you something to eat. Reaching into his pocket, he tugged an
apple and a chicken leg from its depths, and offered them to her as he took a seat on the
bed beside her.

The apple looked lovely, but the chicken leg was a little less than edible. There were
bits of lint and threads caught on it from resting in his pocket. Emma managed a smile of
thanks anyway and bit into the apple. She hadnt realized that she was hungry until she
spied the offering. Now she considered the fact that she had a long arduous journey ahead
of her. She had no food and no horse, yet meant to find her way back to court, or at least
a neighboring castle or keep, on foot.

Realistically, it was doubtful she would make it. On the other hand, sitting about waiting
for news of her husbands death and her imminent marriage to the useless creature before
her did not seem a viable alternative. Besides, there was always the possibility that she
would stumble into the midst of some bandits. If that happened and she were allowed to
plead her case, she might succeed at gaining their protection and an escort back to court
in exchange for a reward.

What did you say that pleased Mother so?

Emma pulled the apple away from her mouth to peer at him doubtfully. Your mother told the
servants not to feed me because she was pleased?

Oh, nay. That was just to show you she was boss. She does that to me as well. Orders me to
bed without my supper. But she has been smiling ever since speaking with you.

She digested that with some difficulty. It was hard to believe that a man of his age would
allow anyone, mother or not, to order him to bed without his supper. But then Bertrand had
proven himself to be a coward and somewhat less than intelligent. Shrugging those thoughts
away, she considered his question. No doubt his mother was happy at the way her plans were
working rather than at anything Emma had done. Still, she thought it better to keep that
to herself.

Mayhap she is pleased that we have affection for each other, she murmured, avoiding his
eyes as she spoke the lie.

Bertrand perked up at that. Aye, mayhap she is.

Emma took another bite of her apple. How do you intend to kill my husband? She tried to
ask the question as nonchalantly as possible, but knew there was a thread of tension in
her voice. Bertrand did not seem to notice it.

Chancellor Arundel will see to it.

Emma nearly choked on the apple in her mouth at that. The archbishop?

Oh, aye. He is a friend of Mothers. He plans to poison him at court. He most like has
already done so. We should receive news any time now. Then we can be married. He smiled at
her as he said that, then sighed. I should leave now before Mother notices I am missing.
She would not be pleased that I am visiting. She ordered that no one was to see you again
tonight.

Standing as he said that, he bent as if to grace her with a kiss, then spotted the last of
the linens lying on the bed beside her and backed away, a pained smile on his face. No
doubt we shall have to wait a day or two to be wed. Twill make the wedding night sweeter.

Emma managed to contain her grimace until the door had closed behind him. Then she dropped
the rest of the apple onto the bed and pulled her rope out again. She had completely lost
her appetite at the last bit of information Bertrand had imparted. The very thought that
her husband might be dead was enough to make her stomach roil with fear. Determined not to
think of it, she knotted the last linen onto the end of the rope, then stood and moved to
the window.