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“How could you?” she asked in a voice that trembled uncontrollably. “You used me, you—you swine!”
For a moment, her eyes stared into his. Yet, instead of feeling the usual surge of desire, she experienced a rage so profound that she spat at him and shook herself out of his grasp. She stopped to glare at him for a second, and Bernard’s heart almost broke as he saw the hurt and rage in them, especially as tears began to flow, unchecked, down her cheeks. Then she barged her way through the crowd and fled into the castle, intending to go to her chamber and cry until she had no tears left.
* * *
The conversation between the two men caught Janice’s attention when she heard her name mentioned. She was moving behind them on her way back to the castle when she heard William’s words and Bernard’s subsequent silence. Strangely, the anger took a moment longer to hit her than the dart of pain that passed through her entire being, so strong that it was almost physical in its intensity. However, when it came, it was as fierce as an inferno.
As she dashed away, Janice recalled the look in Bernard’s eyes as he turned to her. It was an expression of pure rage as if he had been furious at having been found out, and she knew that she would remember his expression for the rest of her life. She would never forgive him. Never.
“Janice! Wait!” he called, but she did not stop.
He could have easily caught up with her, but what good would it do? She would only have the guards deal with him, and although he was a strong man, he could not fight off two or more at once.
“Leave her,” said William, who had suddenly appeared at his side. “She was never part of our plan, although she was a pleasant diversion for you, I must admit. Anyway, we have to go home tomorrow.”
Bernard stood as if paralyzed for a while, gazing in the direction into which Janice had disappeared. His heart was aching as he put himself in her shoes and tried to feel what she felt. The betrayal and hurt she thought he had inflicted on her were unbearable. And yet he was innocent.
He had to make her see it.
15
Janice wept all night and, in the morning, rose puffy-eyed and miserable. She had hardly slept, and her exhaustion was plain to see. Kitty, her maid, remarked upon it as she helped her into her bath the next morning.
“If ye don’t mind my sayin’ so, Mistress, ye look dreadful this mornin’,” she observed, frowning in anxiety. “Ye will need to put a wee bit o’ somethin’ over those bags under your eyes.”
“I do not feel too good, Kitty,” she admitted, then forced herself to smile, “but I will be better soon. It is time for breakfast, and then I will see the guests off. I am quite glad this whole circus is at an end, to be honest. It has been a great strain.” She sighed and put her face in her hands, yawning.
Kitty frowned. She felt uneasy, but it was not her place to question her mistress about her personal matters.
“I am glad the contest is over, anyway, mistress,” she sighed. “I suppose the best man won.”
“Hmmph!” Janice grumbled. “There is no ‘best man.’”
“What about you, mistress?” Kitty asked, laughing. “We all know that you are the best man around here.”
Janice giggled. “Thank you, Kitty…I think!” she said. “My father seems to think so, and that is all that matters to me. There is nobody who means more to me than him.”
Kitty smiled as she laced Janice’s dress up at the back. She was utterly devoted to her mistress and would not hear a word said against her, but if Janice had one fault, it was that she cared too much. She wanted to do everything for everyone, and Kitty knew that her mistress could run herself ragged doing it. Therefore, she reasoned that Janice was quite simply tired.
Janice’s breakfast arrived at that moment, and although she had to force herself to eat it, she finished all her porridge, bread, bannocks, and ale. Then, despite feeling as if she had a stone at the bottom of her stomach, she took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and went to say goodbye to her guests. Thank God it was nearly over!
* * *
Bernard had risen from bed with a thumping headache and an ache in his heart. He knew he would have to mend fences with Janice, but he also realized that it would be easier said than done, even though the misunderstanding was not his fault. He was glad that he did not have to have breakfast across the table from William because he was too angry to be civil to him. However, he was silent and reserved throughout the meal with his fellow guards. Therefore, after having tried to engage him in conversation a few times and being rebuffed, they left him to his own devices, assuming he had had too much to drink.
After he rose from the table, he went upstairs to see if he could find Janice and saw her at once, curtsying and shaking hands with her departing guests, her father by her side. The laird looked old and stooped now, even though he was only a man in his early fifties. It would not be long now until his demise. Even as Bernard looked, he was seized by a bout of coughing that he found difficult to watch.
Janice slapped her father’s back and held a linen cloth to his mouth as the painful, hacking sound of the cough ripped through his frail body. When she took the cloth away a few moments later, there was, as she had expected, a bright red patch of blood on it.
“I think you had better retire to bed, Da,” she murmured, as the laird tried to straighten up. “You must rest now. I will see our guests out.”
Her father nodded without speaking, then shambled away with the aid of two manservants and climbed the stairs with terrible slowness.
Bernard, watching Janice’s eyes following him, felt infinitely sorry for both of them. Abruptly, she turned back to her guests and pinned a smile on her face. He could see that she was acting because he knew every expression on her face so well, but she was doing her duty to the best of her ability, and his heart ached for her.
Suddenly he jumped as a hand descended on his shoulder, and he spun around to see William grinning at him. His hands bunched into fists, and he only just stopped himself from taking a swipe at his friend, who, seeing the expression in William’s eyes, stepped back, frowning in puzzlement.
“What’s wrong, Bernard?” he asked, frowning. “What has happened?”
