“Many thanks, Brigitta. Ye may go.”
Elizabeth closed the door behind the girl, seething. Guards and whores. She had a sudden, cold glimpse of her future; her heart ached despite her luxurious surroundings and the hot bath that awaited her. Disheartened and grieving once again, she slipped into the bathing room and tried to forget how much she dreaded her fate.
* * *
When she woke in the morning, all appeared better than it had been in weeks. The sun was out. Though the air carried a slight chill, her bed was warm and cozy, even though she had not bothered to draw the drapes before she had gone to sleep.
Oh, no! The previous evening's events came rushing back to her, and she pulled the blankets over her head in an effort to hide from her sudden, newly minted bad day.
She groaned, threw them aside, and was immediately jolted awake by the rush of cold air that surrounded her body despite the thick flannel night shift she wore. This was so irritating! By the time Heather had readied her, and a waiting servant led her down to breakfast, Elizabeth was in quite a foul mood indeed.
Lord Darcy sat at the head of the table and gnawed absently at a piece of dried meat as he skimmed a ledger. He barely looked up when she entered the room, which set her blood to boil. She stormed in, made her way towards the buffet, and began heaping rolls, bacon, and sausages onto her plate. Dramatically, she dropped heavily into the seat at his right hand, determined to make him pay attention to her.
“Are we hungry this morning?” Lord Darcy asked, an amused expression on his face.
“Go to hell,” she growled through clenched teeth, hurling a roll at his head.
“Leave us,” Lord Darcy commanded the servant who stood near the buffet. Once he was gone, the menacing prince leaned forward, his eyes narrowed dangerously. “You will not speak to me like that in front of our servants. They talk. People listen. Listening leads to doubt in my abilities to govern once it is assumed that I cannot control the tongue of my bride.”
“Go to hell,” she repeated, though her voice lilted and purred in a sweet singsong manner as she raised her arm to throw another roll.
He grabbed her wrist and wrenched her into his lap, chafing her skin so hard it burned. His eyes blazed with anger, a look with which Elizabeth was more than familiar. With his other hand, he grabbed the roll out of her hand and tossed it down on the table. He levelled a stern gaze at her.
“I shall not tolerate this behaviour, my lady.”
“And I shall not tolerate being spied on!”
He released her wrist, and his head jerked in confusion. “What? Who was spying on you?”
“Do not play coy, my lord! Falsehoods, however good at them ye are, do not become ye.”
“I am not lying,” he muttered. His eyes met hers, a serious question on his lips. “Who was spying on you?”
“The guards ye set at my door last night.”
“Then I shall see that they are punished forthwith.”
What was he about? She stood slowly, letting her eyes fill with suspicion. He seemed earnest in his offer to punish the guards. Could he merely be covering his tracks and blaming innocent men for his black deeds?
“They were guarding my room last night. Ye did not send them to spy on me?”
He shook his head. “If they were at your door and not their post upon the stairs, I shall see to it that they are put into the stockades in the village square. I shall personally lock them in.”
“They were not at my door. They were on the staircase.”
“Then why would you think they were spying on you?”
Contrition set in for the mistake. She was silent as she resumed her seat and stared into her plate, refusing to meet his eyes. She hated being wrong and, somehow, being wrong about High Lord Darcy or his intentions was even worse.
“You thought I had sent them as spies or to keep you prisoner. That was a foolish assumption, Elizabeth. I am a powerful man with many enemies, and not all those within these walls appreciate my place next to the High King. The men I placed on guard last night are two of my finest personal guards. I set them there to protect you. Had you wanted to wander about the place, they would have accompanied you.”
“Then why did ye not tell me ye were assigning me a personal detail?”
“I had not thought it necessary when you were so tired. My intent was for you to have your bath and get some rest.”
“That does not explain where ye were off to last night.”
“Were you spying upon me?” His mouth curled up at the corners.
