“Enough!” Lord Grey said.
Emma struggled against the guards. “No—”
“Wait,” Lady Nichola interrupted.
“Bedamned!” Sir Alexander stormed over to his wife. “You will not be badgered about by Cressingham’s hireling, a woman who lured my brother to his death!”
If possible, Lady Nichola’s face paled further. The child in her arms shifted, struggling.
“Take our son inside,” Sir Alexander said. It wasn’t a request.
Lady Nichola’s somber eyes held Emma’s. “She is right. You have reclaimed a brother believed dead. Instead of accepting his heartfelt apology, acknowledged his sacrifices made, I clung to anger.”
“Patrik tried to kill you,” Alexander spat.
“Mayhap,” Lady Nichola replied, “but ’twas not out of malice. He loved you, tried to protect you, believed me unworthy of your love. His past guided his actions; actions he now understands were wrong, actions he now regrets.”
The scar on Sir Alexander’s face jumped. “’Tis not the time to discuss this now.”
Lady Nichola’s expression softened. “It is. Long past time.” Taking an unsteady breath, she turned toward Lord Grey. “I believe her.”
“Guards, halt,” Lord Grey ordered.
Sir Alexander spun to face his brother. “Bloody hell.”
Humbled by Nichola’s faith, Emma shook her head. “How, my lady, when I have but lied to you from the start, entered your home with naught but deceptive intent.”
“I thought you were trying to sway me to convince the men to help?” Lady Nichola asked.
Emotions swamped Emma. “I am. Thank you, my lady. Never will I forget your generosity.”
“’Tis a lard-bloated lie,” Alexander grumbled.
Lady Nichola gave her husband a quelling glance, then turned to the earl. “As I said, the choice is not mine to make, but if I was asked, I would take Mistress Emma’s word, allow her to ride along with you to save your brother.”
Anger sparked in Lord Grey’s gaze.
Emma trembled, prayed Lady Nichola’s belief was enough. “I will lead you to Patrik. No tricks, no deception, to that I swear.”
The earl’s nostrils flared; then he nodded.
The Baron of Monceaux studied her a long moment, then crossed his arms. “’Twould please me to take down any bastard who would bring a woman harm.”
A hard smile kicked up Sir Duncan’s mouth. “Likewise.”
Heart pounding, Emma turned to Sir Alexander, his glare raw with displeasure.
“I will ride,” Sir Alexander said between clenched teeth, “but expect naught of my trust.”
As if she cared. All she wanted was Patrik alive. Tears filled Emma’s eyes. “My thanks.”
Alexander shook his head. “Do nae thank me. I go for my brother.”
Sprawled upon the damp earthen floor, Patrik opened his eyes. Through swollen lids, he stared at the seep of afternoon light beneath the entry as the guards’ steps faded.
On a muttered curse, he dropped his head and gasped for breath, each draw shoving pain through his chest. Saint’s breath, somehow he still lived. With a grimace, he tested his arms, surprised that either worked. He lifted a leg, ignored the burst of pain, and then raised the other. Neither broken.
For now.
