“And you will not try to escape again.”
She was more reluctant to promise him that. “But a prisoner is expected to escape,” she argued weakly. “That is my right.”
He snorted again as they reached the stairs leading up into the gatehouse. The light above was nearly blinding.
“If you try to escape again, I will chain you up and never let you go,” he said. “If you want your freedom, then you must not give me a reason to take it away from you. Is that clear enough?”
He was being fair about the situation, a shocking attribute from a man who had, so far, shown nothing but rank brutality. He was actually showing her some mercy whether or not he realized it and Allaston knew this was more than likely a one-time offer. Should she betray him, then the situation would go very badly for her. Although she was prepared to die for her father, she wasn’t prepared to be locked up like an animal for the rest of her life. Death would be preferable to that. Therefore, she did the only thing she could do. She nodded.
“It is,” she said, slowly following him up the narrow stairs. “But if you are not going to keep me in the vault, where are you taking me?”
Bretton was taking the stairs slowly because she was. They were mossy and slippery, and she was unsteady on them. He watched her almost lose her footing on one before reaching out a hand to her.
“Here,” he said.
Allaston looked up from the steps, noticing the outstretched hand but having no idea what it was for.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
He thrust the hand at her again to make his intention obvious. “Take my hand so you do not slip and break your neck.”
Hesitantly, Allaston put her hand in his and he clamped down on her fingers, his heated grip against hers. But he was strong and steady, and she end up relying heavily on him to help her the rest of the way up the steps. Once they reached the ground floor of the gatehouse, he faced her and let her go.
“Since you will no longer be in the vault, I intend to put you to work,” he said. “Tell me what you did at Alberbury. Surely you had assigned tasks.”
Allaston frowned, this time with some outrage. “You intend to make me your slave?”
He cocked an eyebrow. “I intend to punish you,” he said. “Tell me what tasks you had at Alberbury.”
Allaston was still frowning but she complied. “My tasks were mostly kitchen related,” she said. “I helped cook meals, tend the garden, and tend stock.”
“Then your punishment will be kitchen-related,” Bretton said, turning to head out of the gatehouse as Allaston followed. “There were only a few male servants left after I took Cloryn and it would be fair to say that our meals have suffered. That will now be your task.”
She skipped after him, squinting her eyes in the bright light. “My punishment is to cook?”
“Your punishment is to be my chatelaine. I need one. You will run this keep to my satisfaction or I will take my hand to your backside. Is that clear?”
It was better than being in the vault. Even as she mulled over her new assignment, the first thing that popped to mind was how easy it would be to poison their food if she had access to the kitchen. A sick army could not march on her father. She hadn’t promised not to poison them, after all. She had simply promised not to harm anyone or try to escape. She supposed that poison could fall under the vow not to harm anyone and, as she thought on it, the technicalities of it had her torn.
Being nice to the man hadn’t worked. Reasoning with him hadn’t worked. Mayhap her only recourse was to somehow prevent the army from moving at all. But she had a feeling if she did that, then again, the consequences against her could be horrific. De Llion had forgiven an attempt against him once but she doubted he’d forgive a second attempt. Perhaps she needed to contemplate the option of poison over a little more before doing anything. Now that he was placing her in a position of some trust, she would have to be careful and not betray that trust until she was absolutely sure she could get away with it. If that moment ever came.
She wondered if it would.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Two Weeks Later, Late June
Pelinom Castle, Northumberland
House of de Velt
The day wasmild and windy as a sea breeze blew in from the east, carrying seagulls upon it. The birds sometimes ventured this far inland, looking for food and scraps, their loud cries hanging upon the wind.
A very big man with dual-colored eyes and dark, graying hair pulled back into a tail at the nape of his neck was standing at the window of his solar on the second level of Pelinom’s keep, watching the birds overhead against the blue sky. Ajax de Velt could remember when his older sons, Cole and Julian, would make slingshots when they were younger and try to knock the birds out of the sky. Once, they hit another bird, a beautiful bird with a red neck that had fallen out of the sky, wounded. The boys’ younger sister, Allaston, had cried and carried on, and wanted to nurse the bird back to health. The boys had wanted to eat it. Jax remembered the battle that had ensued, whichAllaston had eventually won because she was very clever and not afraid of a fight. God, he missed those days. He missed Allaston.
With a heavy sigh, Jax turned to glance at the package on his desk. It had been delivered a half-hour before by a messenger bearing colors that no one had recognized. The messenger had dumped the package at the main gate of Pelinom and fled. Once the package was retrieved, the messenger was well away and there was no point in pursuing.
The sergeant in charge of the gatehouse had delivered it to de Velt, seated in his solar conducting other business, but Jax had taken the package and opened it with some curiosity in front of the sergeant. What he had pulled forth had been unexpected and macabre. Reading the missive that had come with the contents of the package had nearly thrown him into a panic. He’d read the missive six times before the words sank in:
