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“Lord Henry’s manservant,” she replied without hesitation. “He is enamored of me,” she added, with a laugh and toss of her head, as if it mattered not at all. “I’m sure he would do anything for me, if I asked it of him.”
“Is that why you were listening at the door this morning, my lady? I thought he was the spy, not you.”
Jesu. “I-I could not help but overhear, but I would not repeat what I heard. Why would I? I lingered because I was eager to learn what was in my father’s mind, so that I could help him to secure Lady Jenova as his bride.”
“She is ours anyway,” the priest replied matter-of-factly. “Your father will tame her.”
Rhona couldn’t help it; she flinched. Horror uncoiled in her belly. Lady Jenova, beautiful and calm Lady Jenova, beate
n into submission by Baldessare. She had tried not to think of it, tried to put it out of her mind, but now it was there, in all its terrifying detail. And she knew at last what her heart had been trying to tell her all along. She could not do it. She could not be a party to this thing. Reynard was right; she belonged with him, at Gunlinghorn.
Mayhap he saw that in her face. Mayhap her mask slipped long enough for him to read what she was thinking. His voice dripped satisfaction.
“Your father still has need of you, my lady. Do not think that because he will wed Jenova he will no longer require you to help him in his dealings. We both have plans for you.”
Somehow she stayed upright. She even lifted her chin as he rose and came toward her, his long robes brushing the floor. He smelled of incense and something rancid, as if he did not wash himself very often. She met his one good eye as he paused before her, staring down at her.
“You are very lovely and very brave, chérie,” he whispered. “Too bad. Do not leave the keep again. If you try, I will have you locked in. Do you understand?”
His mouth was curved with satisfaction, but it did not disguise the cold savagery in his ruined face. The fire might have damaged the outer shell of this man, Rhona thought, but others had survived such trauma. No, it was the inside that was rotten. And perhaps that had always been so.
“As you say,” she replied coolly.
When he had gone, she sank down onto her bed and stared at nothing until the trembling eased. She was alone, more alone than she had believed possible, or perhaps it just felt worse after being with Reynard.
Nothing had changed.
She had had such hopes, and now nothing would ever change. She would remain the spare arrow in Baldessare’s quiver, to be used for his benefit. Forever. The only thing different was inside her, the change in her, and that was because of Reynard. She was changed because of him, he had given her hope of a better life, and now she would never see him again. He would wait for her tomorrow at Uther’s Tower, but she would not come.
And he would never learn why.
Mayhap she could get a message to him, through the groom, as she had before? But they would know. Jean-Paul and her father would be watching, now that they no longer trusted her. A message wasn’t worth a beating. And it wasn’t worth dying for.
A tear ran down her cheek.
She had been so happy as she’d ridden home. She had even begun to think that maybe she had a future. And now it was all gone, all destroyed. She was back to being what she had always been, something to use, something whose feelings were never taken into account. Whose feelings simply did not matter.
“Rhona, are you there?”
It was Alfric. He tapped upon her door, his voice whispery so as not to be overheard. Had he been told to stay away? Obviously he did not want his father to know he was there, but it was brave of him to have come at all, and Rhona knew Alfric was not very brave when it came to facing up to Baldessare.
“Yes, I am here,” she called softly, but she did not get up.
There was a pause, and then his voice came out in a rush. “Rhona, I am afraid. I-I-I know you will s-save us both, but I am still very afraid.”
Save them both. She must have been insane to think such a thing. She was alone against the combined evil of her father and Jean-Paul.
“I am resting, Alfric. I will talk with you later.”
“Oh.” He hesitated, knowing something was wrong, but helpless to ease her pain. Finally, his steps retreated. Rhona lay down and closed her eyes, and pretended she wasn’t there.
Chapter 20
In his dream Henry could hardly see where he was going. At first he had thought he was at Gunlinghorn, but the shadows were so deep and the passages twisted and turned. He was soon lost.
It was night, but there were no torches upon the walls, although there was an old smell of ashes. He stumbled along, hands outstretched, trying to see his way. There was no light, none at all. Nothing to tell him whether or not he was going in the right or the wrong direction.
Jenova. He needed to speak to Jenova, but he had to find her first. She had rejected him again. He had meant to keep persisting until he had worn her down, but he did not think he could bear that. He had his pride, after all, and she was slicing it to pieces with her kind, sad smile.
