Page 20 of Anice’s Bargain

“After the attack on our castle.” Anice slid her gaze from his. “After what happened to her. She walked about the castle empty-eyed, as though already dead. In truth, we feared for her child as much as we feared for her.”

“Did it live?”

Anice smiled to herself. “Aye, by a miracle. Another magnificent sister we named Leila.” She peered into the great hall and nodded in the direction of a girl wearing fine blue silk dress and a somber expression. “There she is now.”

Unlike the other daughters of Werrick, this one had dark hair and appeared to be…

His heart squeezed. Little Leila appeared to be approximately ten years old, the same age a child might be if…

“Yer mother.” James spoke slowly, dreading the answer as much as he hated voicing the question he suddenly needed to ask. “What happened to her before her death?”

Anice drew a slow, steadying breath and refused to meet his gaze. “She was attacked when your clan took Werrick Castle. She tried to keep us safe after Papa had been struck down. A man took her.” She curled her hand into a fist at her side. “He dragged her away where he beat her, raped her and left her for dead.”

* * *

Anice thought unveilingthe truth behind her mother’s death to James would allay the burning anger inside her chest, but it did nothing to dampen the flames. For his part, he remained silent.

A glance at his face showed a furrow of pain on his brow. Guilt cut into her for goading him with the story. Guilt!

It was foolish, of course, but she could not still the twist of discomfort.

Leila made her way toward them, oblivious of their prior conversation, and slipped her hand into Anice’s while staring up at James. “You are James Graham, correct? The one who will marry Anice.”

Of all the inhabitants at Werrick Castle, Leila was the most well fed with the sisters all saving a bit of their rationed food for her to eat. Regardless, the youngest was little more than skeletal arms and gaunt cheeks. Evidence of her pathetic appearance was obvious in James’s sorrowful expression.

He set the basket to the floor and knelt in front of Leila, so his eyes were level with hers. Piquette licked at the air beside James’s face, but he backed farther out of reach with a light chuckle. “Aye, that is right. And are ye the wee Lady Leila?”

She nodded.

“Well met, my lady.” He lifted her free hand and brought it gently to his lips. as though she were a great lady at court and he a cultured courtier.

To Anice’s surprise, Leila beamed at James. “Indeed.”

It was a rare thing to see so wide a smile from the youngest Barrington sister. Leila pulled her other hand from Anice’s and put it to James’s bearded cheek. “You didn’t want this siege.” She lowered her head in reverence. “Thank you for helping to bring it to an end.”

If the smile had surprised Anice, her sister’s words left her speechless. Leila had not offered any foretelling or emotional insight to people in over three years. Not since she had missed Marin’s attack and fell victim to her own self-doubt.

James blinked. “Thank ye for understanding.”

Leila lowered her hand from his cheek. Piquette lapped his tongue near James’s face once more, but he eased back with a carefree grin and rubbed the dog’s giant head.

“Will you take him out for a bit, Lamb?” Anice asked. “We’ve got several people to attend to.” She nodded to Isla’s basket on the floor at James’s feet.

Leila nodded enthusiastically. “Come, Piquette. We can finally go outside.” Her lips pursed with an unladylike whistle and she patted her thigh.

Piquette gave an excited hop with his massive front paws, then stopped and hung his head in Anice’s direction, as if seeking permission. She laughed. “Go on with you both. But mind you bring a soldier.”

“Of course,” Leila tossed over her shoulder as she ran from the room with Piquette galloping at her heels.

“That is Isla’s, is it not?” A man pointed to the basket at James’s feet. “We were told she was coming to the great hall with teas. Is she following you?” the man craned his neck to peer at the empty doorway.

“Nay, she is detained,” Anice replied. “We have been sent with items in her place. Do you suffer from stomach pains?”

The man slid a wary gaze in her direction, evidently uncomfortable answering her. His hands slid around his belly, which gave a rumbling gurgle. Sweat shone on his pale brow.

Anice bent to retrieve a packet of herbs from the basket and tucked it into his hand. “Steep this. It will aid your digestion.”

The man muttered his thanks and ran off with an awkward, clenched gait.