Page 59 of Ella’s Desire

Lark stared miserably at her lap. Even the blue ribbons threaded through her braids and tied at the ends seemed to droop. Dear God, was someone abusing her? Surely, it was not one of the Lord Werrick’s daughters. And yet, that bruising.

Someone would die for this.

“Your sleeve, Lark,” he said in as gentle a tone as he could muster.

“It was my fault.” Cat sat forward and put a hand to Lark’s shoulder.

Bronson turned to the young woman in horror. “What did you do to my sister?”

Cat lifted a shoulder. “I taught her a bit of archery.”

“Cat.” Ella said her name in a warning tone. “What happened?”

“My wrist guard was too big for her.” Cat’s voice quavered and her eyes filled with tears. “I don’t use it as I never bruise anymore. It’s been so long since I have that I forgot…” She hunched her shoulders forward and looked down. Several tears fell from her eyes and into her lap. “Forgive me.”

If nothing else, Cat’s sorrow did serve to dampen Bronson’s rage. “She should never have been shooting arrows in the first place,” he said. “She is a lady, one who will attend court with us. There is no need for her to learn to use a weapon.”

“It is always good for a woman to know how to defend herself,” Ella countered. “Cat did not intend to hurt her.”

“Lark will have a husband to care for her.” Bronson tried to keep his patience intact. “And in order to attract a man of sufficient title and wealth, she will need to be appealing.”

“And engaging in archery, or knowing how to defend oneself, is not appealing?” Ella tilted her chin.

A slight warning tapped in the back of Bronson’s mind. “Nay, it is not,” he answered regardless.

“The woman ought to be at the mercy of men to better attract one,” Ella surmised. “By being vulnerable. How romantic.”

The warning in Bronson’s mind grew louder.

“You are not her protector.” He indicated where Lark still sat with her head lowered.

Ella considered him. “Neither are you.” Her brow lifted in such a way as to suggest her words were meant to be a barb.

And indeed, they were. Her words sank deep into his chest. Because all this time, he had not protected Lark. All this time, he had been carousing at court, oblivious to her suffering, and that of Brigid. He wanted to safeguard them both now and this was the best way he knew how, damn it.

He shifted his focus onto Lark and found her chair empty, as well as those of Cat and Leila. Even Hardy was nowhere to be found.

Ella got to her feet, her movements calm despite the brilliant color showing in her cheeks. “Excuse me.”

Bronson rose from his chair. “Allow me to escort you where you—”

“That is not necessary.” Her eyes flashed. “Because even if it is unladylike to do so, I can defend myself if need be.”

With that, she spun away from him and quit the great hall. It was then Bronson realized she had never given him the answer regarding their marriage. And after what had transpired between them, he might not get his answer any time soon.

Ella stared down at the open book in front of her. The courtier in her new story was the worst kind of evil. One who sold women off into marriage at a whim.

She lay down her quill. Even though hours had passed, her heart still thundered in her chest every time she thought of Bronson’s response to Lark learning to fight, of his intent to wed her to someone at court. Some nobleman, of course, one dripping with wealth.

Her stomach twisted at how any man could be so devoid of caring. And this was who sought her own hand in marriage? “It’s disgusting, Moppet.”

The squirrel twitched his head toward her and scrunched up one eye.

Ella huffed out a breath of anger, but it did little to quell the rage knocking about inside her. Still, he did not deserve to be the enemy in her book. A nip of guilt entered her conscience and she slapped the cover closed.

Restlessness prickled at her nerves. She got to her feet and paced the room. It was not enough. She had tried being alone, writing, even climbing a tree. Nothing would allay the anxiety racing through her veins.

What she needed was a ride through the countryside. The endless blue sky overhead, the swell of rolling hills beneath Kipper’s galloping hooves, and the wind blowing through her hair as though she were soaring. Aye, that was what she needed.