He left the hares with the innkeeper’s wife and she promised to make him some of her delicious rabbit stew.
“Go on,” she shooed him toward the stairs. “See to your fortunate wife and I will call you down when the stew is ready.”
“I will go,” he called down as he went. “But ‘tis I who am the fortunate one.”
He was lovesick. He sounded like a fool. He didn’t truly care how he sounded though. He was in love with Lily Be—MacPherson. He was in love with how she loved, how she looked, and sounded, and smelled, and smiled. There wasn’t one thing he didn’t love about her. It made him want to laugh as he reached the door to their room. He wanted a life with her, to have more children with her, to grow old with her.
He put his hand to the door then moved back quickly to the railing. “By the way,” he called down to the innkeeper’s wife. “How many guests are here besides my wife and me?”
“Just one man,” she called back. “Do not fear. There will be plenty of food.”
He laughed with her, feeling happier than he had since he was a child.
He entered the room and then stopped and listened to his heart faltering in his ears as his world ended in a single moment at the sight of Lily wiping her mouth with her bath cloth and covering the basin where she’d just thrown up. She was pale and—
She began to turn to look at him, and then something hit him hard on the head. The world went dark and Lily was gone.
#
“Do not hurt him, Bertram,” Lily gasped out for breath. “For if you do, I will curse you.”
He laughed, grabbing for her arm. “Ye will be dead in a few days. Exactly where ye wanted me.”
“I will curse you from heaven. ‘Twill be worse,” she warned.
He must have believed she could do as she said because he left Elias alone and dragged her out of the inn, smiling as she coughed and pushing the innkeeper’s wife out of his way when she tried to stop him.
“I shall enjoy watchin’ ye suffer, Lily.”
Lily ignored him and turned to look over her shoulder at the innkeeper’s wife. She winked and then returned her sickly gaze to her abductor.
She had seen him speaking with the innkeeper when she’d gone outside to use the privy. She’d hurried back to her room and tied her knives to various parts of her legs. She was glad he was here. The search was over. She thought it best to have him believe she was sick. He wouldn’t be prepared for her fight when it came. She hadn’t wanted Elias to see her and think…oh, she hoped the innkeeper’s wife saw her wink and understand the sign and tell Elias.
For now though, she had to find out about little Eddie and Clare.
“Where are Clare and little Eddie, Bertram?”
“Ye will see them soon enough,” he promised, trying to be cryptic.
She hadn’t wanted it to come to this. Would she finally have to kill him? She couldn’t do anything until she knew. “Where are they?” she demanded then coughed again. She knew she was pale, waiting for his answer. “Are they alive?”
“Why do ye care fer them so, Lily?” he asked, turning to her while he pulled her to his waiting horse—waiting with the nervous-looking innkeeper. “They are nothin’ but peasants.” He took out his knife and stabbed the innkeeper in the belly.
Lily cried out, “No!” Then squeezed her eyes shut. Oh, how she wanted him dead.
“Why did ye choose them over me, eh?”
She pulled back, aghast as the innkeeper fell to the ground. “What? Do my ears deceive me? How can you ask me such a question? Do you think I wouldeverchoose you over anyone else, Bertram?”
He pushed her the rest of the way and then hefted her into the saddle.
“Ye were happier with me before we went to Sevenoaks.”
She could not believe what she was hearing. He was mad. He was vile. She should just pull out one of her daggers, but she had to know where Clare and little Eddie were. If they were still alive. Oh, please, let them be alive.
“I was not happy with you,” she told him while he sat in the saddle behind her. “Not even once! I was docile and meek because it saved me from your whip. I had nothing to fight with you over. So I did not fight.”
“Aye,” he agreed after a moment of consideration, “ye always were a cold, defiant lass. Tell me, did ye weep when yer husband withered away before yer eyes? Or were yer eyes too busy on Elias MacPherson?”