“Lord Denis ventured into the forest for an assignation. He met with one who promised to aid his ambitions and see him in possession of Marnis with greater haste than might have been otherwise.”
“You cannot know such a detail.”
“I do know it, for my lord Gaultier bade me watch over his son. He saw ambition stir within the boy and dared not trust the boy fully. The match with Marguerite de Haniers was notsufficient for Lord Denis. Nay, he would have his entire legacy upon his wedding day, and there was one who promised it to Lord Denis when his own father refused.”
“You must speak of yourself,” Mallory protested.
“Not I. My loyalty was to Lord Gaultier, to thebloodof Marnis.”
Isabella blinked at the argument that sounded so much like one of her father’s own.
“But Denis was Gaultier’s son,” Faydide protested. “He was heir to Marnis.”
“And that was why he had to die,” Edmund said softly. “How else could your brother claim the holding he coveted above all others? There could be no other contender with the blood of Marnis, not if Mallory was to seize the prize.” He smiled then, eyes gleaming as he watched the pair.
Faydide blinked. “You killed Denis?” she demanded of Mallory.
He might have denied it, but his manner revealed his guilt.
“He will tell you that the boy had to die, that he would destroy all of merit at Marnis in his selfishness,” Edmund whispered. “Mallory will tell you that he did the deed for you, but he will lie in that, my lady Faydide.”
“Youkilled Denis?” Faydide demanded of Mallory, rising to her feet. “You killed my son, my only son, my one son?” She was shaking in her fury. “You slaughtered him like a peasant and left him to die alone?”
“He was already dead,” Mallory muttered.
“Nay, he had no intention of leaving him alive,” Edmund said softly. “Such a fierce blow. No man could have survived it.” He shook his head. “And Lord Denis, he was too astonished to defend himself. He was fool enough to trust you, Mallory, and that cost him dearly.”
“Cease your prattle,” Mallory said, his face turning red as he glared at Edmund. “Do not tell these lies to my sister.”
“They are not lies, Mallory, and you know as much better than anyone.”
Mallory lunged for Edmund. In that moment, Faydide seized her bowl of soup and struck Mallory in the face with it. The wooden bowl cracked hard as did something else that Isabella could not see. The soup spilled to the floor and Mallory roared in pain.
He flung away his sister, revealing the blood on his face. His nose had to be broken.
Mallory had no opportunity to appeal to Faydide, though, for she had grabbed her eating knife with her other hand. “You killed my son,” she said with quiet fury.
Mallory opened his mouth to protest his cause, even as Faydide drove the blade of her knife into his throat.
It was a small blade but the blow was well-aimed. Mallory choked and stumbled to his feet as blood spurted from the wound. He lunged after Faydide but she kicked him hard, hooking her ankle around his so that he fell hard to the floor. He struck his head and moaned, but Faydide fell upon him, plunging her knife into him over and over again. It was only when Mallory was still and silent, his blood flowing like wine, that she stood up and backed away, her eyes wild.
“My son,” she whispered and spat upon him. She then choked back a sob.
Edmund was finishing his soup, untroubled by the situation. Isabella watched in horror as Faydide turned her gaze upon Edmund, anger emanating from her in waves.
“And you knew,” she muttered, raising the blade with obvious intent.
Edmund moved with surprising speed, spinning to his feet and striking the knife from her hand. He struck her across theface so that she stumbled and fell, then kicked her hard in the abdomen. His expression changed to a terrifying and familiar one when a bone cracked, a sight that made Isabella try to slip from the table and hide.
She did not know how it could be, but she had seen that look before, that satisfaction in the misery of another. Faydide moaned and curled into a ball, weeping as she whispered Denis’ name.
Edmund had not missed Isabella’s response. He turned his attention to her and smiled slowly. “Now you see the truth,” he said softly. He moved toward her with steady steps. “I wanted you to know before you died, but now there can be no reprieve.”
Isabella was aware that a servant came into the great hall then abruptly retreated. She wished she could do the same. She had to encourage Edmund to talk while she devised an escape. “But I do not understand. Father had no surviving kin.”
“He had two brothers who escaped his schemes: Gilles and Hugues, both outcasts from this abode and its luxuries, both forced to ensure their own welfare thanks to Gaultier’s affection for poison. I learned a great deal from my older brother, enough that when I found Gilles, I could ensure that I remained the sole heir to Marnis.” He chuckled softly. “He thought us brothers reunited, and that our cause was as one. Fool! I tested my knowledge upon him. I poured his wine and urged him to drink to our cause.” His eyes lit as his voice dropped low. “I watched him die.”
Isabella slid back a step but Edmund advanced upon her. Could she reach Faydide’s knife?