As she stepped beneath the shadow of the portal, Mallory appeared suddenly beside her. He might have been conjured by magic. He looked pleased with himself, like a cat that had stolen a bowl of cream, and Isabella felt her resentment of him rise anew. There was little point in holding her tongue any longer. “You appear well content to be rid of your sister,” she said.
“But not perhaps of you,” he replied with a smile.
Isabella sighed. “You have never wasted your charm upon me before, Mallory. Why do as much now?”
His eyes narrowed that she spoke so bluntly. “Is it so uncommon for one to realize the merit of a person before they vanish from view forever?”
“Aye,” Isabella said, wishing only to end the conversation. “I believe it is most uncommon.” She would have stepped past him, but he claimed her elbow with one hand, pulling her to a halt. She looked down at his hand pointedly.
“You might temper your response, Isabella. Your father did not wish you at the board this day, butIargued on your behalf.”
“Yet I will not thank you. It would have contented me to dine below the salt.” On the dais, Isabella knew every eye would be upon her, every tongue speculating upon her choices and her future. She would have been happier to disappear into the company.
He smirked, the wretch. “I suppose you think you must become accustomed to humbler circumstance.”
“I cannot imagine why my thoughts are of concern to you.”
“Because your situation could change, Isabella,” Mallory hissed. “Consider it while you can.”
“Consider what? That I should lie about my marriage? To what avail?”
“Your father is in a celebratory mood. You might take advantage of that while you can.”
“Why? He cannot be in such a fine mood that he will accept Amaury de Montvieux as my lord husband.”
Mallory winced and shook his head. “You cannot succeed in winning your way in that matter, so put it aside.” He nodded to the other end of the hall, where the two brothers from Haniers stood diligently on either side of their sister. The older one was watching her openly. “You might make a different alliance on this day, one more appealing than being sent to a convent.”
Though certainly there was an allure to evading Faydide’s company for the years ahead, this brother was the one who had chastised her at the board the night before.
“I have a husband,” she informed Mallory. “I do not have need of a second one, at least not so long as the first draws breath.” She turned away, intent upon ending this consultation.
“Careful, Isabella,” Mallory said, his tone prompting her to glance back toward him with concern. “All matters can be arranged, if necessary.”
“Do you threaten me, or my husband?” she demanded, but Mallory merely waved her away. Her father had appeared at the bottom of the stairs, and Mallory hastened to the older man’s side, bowing low and clearly attempting to win that man’s favor.
Surely, Mallory had no means to see Amaury dead.
Surely, he had no cause to pursue such a path.
Isabella shivered, glad for the first time that she had sent Amaury away. It was a relief to know that he was safe from allthis scheming. Marnis was filled with peril, and she would be glad when its shadow was behind her as well.
Amaury was relievedbeyond measure when the cask was opened again. The space had been cramped and the ride uncomfortable, all the more so because he could not see what transpired around him. He stood and stretched, noting that the cart had halted outside the kitchens of Marnis. The casks containing the men were in the middle of the cart, hidden by the stacked casks of wine on either side. The driver opened the cask containing Roland and the brothers shook hands heartily after Roland emerged.
Edmund’s cask was not opened, though that man made a protest from within. The cask wobbled in place as he strove to rock it, undoubtedly to draw their attention.
“Do you have a confession for me, Edmund?” Roland whispered, his lips close to the wood.
“I dare not!” Edmund squeaked. “You must have mercy…”
“Nay, there is no cause for mercy in this circumstance,” Amaury said.
“But you have need of my aid to find your way….”
“I shall have to manage without it.” Amaury turned and jumped from the wagon, Roland fast behind him.
“Quickly then, lads,” the driver said gruffly to them, as if they had ridden along to assist him. “I did not promise you good coin to stand about. Each and every one of these casks must be rolled into the hall with haste. The Lord de Marnis himself awaits a sip.”
“Aye,” Roland said and rolled a cask toward the kitchen.