Page 89 of Anice’s Bargain

She held her sword aloft between them, preparing to fight.

Persuading her of his innocence would not be as easy as it had in the dungeon. Judging from the raw anger flushing her cheeks, he would need to convince her soon, or she just might kill him.

* * *

The achein Anice’s heart threatened to cave in her chest. Drake lay still on the ground and James covered in blood. Surely, he had not…

“James.” She choked out his name and stepped forward with more confidence than she felt. The blade trembled in her hand, belying the torrent of hurt and sorrow rushing through her. “What have you done?”

“He’s no’ dead.” James regarded first the tip of her sword pointed at his throat and then her. “This isna his blood. Anice, please believe me.”

“Drake was captured after you released him.” She kept the tremble from her voice. She could not bring herself to ask if he had betrayed her, for she feared the answer. If he had, surely it would shatter her heart.

“My da knew I had lied to him.” He shook his head. “Anice, I dinna betray ye.”

She lifted the sword higher lest she give into the temptation to let it fall away. She wanted to believe him, with every piece of her soul.

“I’m no’ armed,” he said.

She drew a dagger from her belt, similar to the one he’d given to her, and tossed it on the ground at his feet. It skittered over the uneven cobblestones and came to a rest in front of his boots.

She did not wish to fight him, but if it came down to it, she would not battle an unarmed man. “How do I know I can believe you?”

He didn’t look at the dagger on the ground, but kept his stare fixed on her, his expression solemn. The background sounds of war were loud and invasive. The clang of metal on metal, the cries of the dying.

“I gave ye a similar dagger for protection,” he said. “Because I am on yer side. I always have been.” He finally looked down at the dagger, untouched, at his feet. “I willna fight ye.”

Her throat went tight, and her eyes grew hot with emotion. Hope blazed through her, a flame she realized had never fully extinguished. Hope that his words were true. “Then you did not betray me?” she asked slowly.

The clatter of weapons and men became louder, closer. They were running out of time.

His face softened. “Nay, mo leanan.”

The endearment tore at her heart and her sword tip lowered slightly. So much was at risk if she was wrong. Her people, her home, her family, everything.

“My father intercepted my message to Lord Bastionbury,” James continued. “He knew early on I was against him. When he—” His voice broke. “When he hung ye from that tree…” He lowered his head and sniffled.

“Where were you?” Anice asked, desperate to know what had happened to keep him from coming to her aid.

“They bound me.” James’s voice was thick and when he looked up, his eyes were glossy with tears. “They held me down and all I could do was watch. Helpless.”

He knelt at her feet. Her powerful husband, who towered over every man, whose body was carved with raw strength, gazed up at her. “I thought they would kill ye. That I would lose ye forever.” He pulled in a ragged breath. “My God, Anice, I would move the earth for ye.”

It was too much. He was too much. An anguished cry released unbidden from her throat and the sword tip drooped to the ground.

No sooner had the weapon dipped away from him, his expression shifted from tenderness to determination. He snatched up the dagger and leapt at her, fist pulled back with the dagger in it ready to attack.

Instinct kicked in. The limp hold on the weapon in Anice’s hand tightened as she drew it up once more and swung.