He was still watching her as Charity took a cautious spoonful.
“Good.”
The warmth hit her tongue and her throat.God.This was the best sensation that she had felt inweeks,it seemed. She swallowed, then took another spoonful, then another, faster. The hunger was embarrassing, and within moments she was eating like someone who hadn’t seen a meal in days.
Duncan watched her in silence, and when she glanced up, still chewing, she saw the faintest curve at the corner of his mouth.
“What are you looking at?” Charity demanded, voice muffled by the mouthful.
“You’re starving,” he said. “That’s all. I just think that you should have taken my advice to eat earlier, and then you would have been less ravenous, faster.”
Charity swallowed hard, annoyed.
“Stop watching me,” was all that she could say. It felt like a child’s plea to a parent, who was going to do whatever they wished.
“Hm,” he sounded, watching her like a specimen almost. She wondered what he must be thinking. If he was not already plotting for her murder, was he disgusted by how hungry she was? A sudden self-consciousness appeared over her, and she realized that she did not wish to appeartoounsightly in front of him, and then slowed down her eating pace.
When she was finished, Duncan took the empty bowl from her hands and set it back on the table.
“I have done as you asked,” she spoke again, sighing loudly. “Now, you must speak to me. That would be a fair exchange.”
“Who are you?” Duncan turned back to her.
Charity’s stomach tightened again, and it occurred to her that she had not quite given him her name.
“You dragged me here without knowing who I am?” she asked.
“Yes, you would have rather that I left you alone to die in the forest?” his eyebrow shot up. “Who are you?”
“You first tell me why I should answer,” Charity’s eyes narrowed. It seemed that neither of them wished to relent, and that this game could go on for much longer.
“A physician came while you were unconscious,” he said. “He checked your pupils and your pulse. At the end of his assessment, he said you had been drugged.”
Charity’s throat tightened, but she said nothing. Of course, she did not remember any of this, but being under the influence of drugs would explain much about why she could not remember anything.
“Henbane,” he said, even though she had not asked for a name. “It was thankfully not enough to kill you, but enough to make you confused, sick, and… weak.”
Duncan watched her closely, and she felt herself blush slightly at how he had used the wordthankfully.Not that it should matter to her, in earnest, what this beastly stranger thought of her living or dying.
“Now I need to know if that was an attack meant for you,” he said, “or if it was a message meant for me.”
“A message for you?” she asked. “But we do not know each other. How could it be a message to you?”
“You turned up in my woods,” he said as though it was obvious, and then continued when it became clear that she was still confused, “People don’t leave drugged women on the land of a duke unless they want something, or unless they want trouble.”
“So this is your concern,” Charity’s mouth twisted. “Not what happened to me, only whether it’s inconvenient for you.”
“If someone is using you to reach me, then you’re in danger again the moment you leave this room,” he seemed visibly annoyed now, even angry.
Charity’s fear flared, but she shoved it down with anger. Her mind was spiraling in all different directions.Whatwas the truth?
“I think what you’re saying is rather clever,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “It is a way to make me think you weren’t involved, and to make me feel like I need you.”
“You think I’m playing a game with you,” Duncan’s expression went colder, so much so that it was frightening.
“I think you’re capable of a great many things,” Charity snapped. “You and your men. I woke up with an arrow in a tree beside me.”
“That arrow wasn’t meant to kill you. Malcolm is an idiot sometimes, but he’s not a murderer.”
