Page 37

“What are ye doing?” said a cold female voice.

Rogene looked up.

Her pulse leaped. A pair of angry eyes bore into her. In the doorway, looking like a snake coiled to attack, stood Lady Euphemia.

Chapter 13

Without thinking, Rogene hid the letter behind her back. Her heart thumped against her rib cage.

“Um…” she said.

Euphemia marched towards her. “What is that?” She angled her head to see behind Rogene’s back.

Rogene stood. “Nothing.”

With her eyes as sharp as dagger tips, Euphemia came closer. “Ye’re spying on Lord Angus, are ye nae? I’ve seen ye lurking here, and now ye’re reading something. Ye will show me what it is.”

Rogene stepped back. “It doesn’t concern you.”

Euphemia went into the folds of her dress with one hand. “And why does it concern ye?”

Casually, she retrieved a dirk and pointed it at Rogene. The short blade glistened. Rogene’s feet chilled. If Euphemia got the letter, she could very well use it against Bruce. She could send it to Edward II. This could change history.

All because of Rogene.

No. To hell with her PhD. She couldn’t let her actions undo the progress that Bruce had achieved. Even if it meant that she would achieve nothing.

She darted to the fireplace and threw the parchment on the hot embers.

Euphemia sprang after her and grabbed her by the shoulder, pressing the sharp edge of the blade to her neck. As she saw the embers ignite the letter and flames start to consume it, she let Rogene go and sank to her knees. With her dagger, she pierced the edge of the parchment and threw it onto the floor. She stepped on the flames several times until they died, leaving only the blackened edge.

Euphemia bent and picked up the letter. Oh, hell, no! Rogene leaned forward and waved her hand, trying to grab the letter, but Euphemia pulled her arm away. She hid the letter behind her back and pressed the tip of the dagger against Rogene’s stomach.

“One movement, and I’ll spill yer guts on the floor,” Euphemia said.

Euphemia’s eyes were icy blue and dead cold, and Rogene knew the woman had every intention of killing her. Rogene’s hand fell.

“Ye were spying on my betrothed, were ye nae?” Euphemia said.

Rogene didn’t say anything, feeling her chest rising and falling quickly. Euphemia was standing so close, the sickly scent of roses reached Rogene’s nostrils.

Euphemia pressed the knife harder into her stomach, and Rogene felt the tip ripping through the layers of the dress and the undershirt and stinging her skin. Sweat tickled down her spine.

“Aye, spying on him after ye slept with him, were ye nae?” Her voice took on a bitter undertone.

Rogene swallowed a hard knot. “I didn’t sleep with him.”

Euphemia scoffed. “Ye should be a better liar for a spy. I’ve seen ye two kiss. Ye wilna take him away from me. He’s mine.”

Rogene sighed. “I have no intention of taking him away from you, Lady Euphemia. You two are supposed to be together and you will have a son.”

Euphemia’s eyelashes trembled, and she blinked, hope softening her features. She must really love him…

The thought stabbed Rogene in the gut as though the knife had sunk deep into her.

But then Euphemia’s eyes regained their steely expression.

“Even if ’tis so, it doesna change that ye were either stealing something or spying on Angus. What is this?” She turned and brought the letter to her eyes.