Chapter 24 #2
The fire was blazing when we returned to the camp, the men busy cooking something on a spit.
I sighed at the memory of skewering the rabbit for Vane, wishing I could return to that night and tell him I loved him.
How different might things have been! The role of indifference I’d used to protect myself had merely prevented me from finding true happiness with the man I loved.
“Lisetta.”
The voice of the man I hated returned me to the present. De Tourrard waved Guy away and led me to a blanket set apart from the men. Then he pulled me down to sit with him. He lifted my hand and kissed my knuckles, dipping his tongue between my fingers.
“I have a betrothal gift for you.”
“I’ve already told you, Wulfric, I am married, but I would refuse you even if I were not,” I said. “You disgust me.”
He let out a short derisive laugh. “I find a little unwillingness quite desirable, Lisetta. I abhor passivity in a woman.”
He pulled something out of a bag, an object the size of a man’s fist, wrapped in a dark cloth.
“Here, my dear. Perhaps this will help you reach the right decision with regards to matters of the heart.”
“My heart belongs to another, Wulfric.”
De Tourrard smiled and began unwrapping the cloth. The material was not dark, but a white muslin covered in stains. Only when he finished unwrapping, did it become clear what caused the stains. He extended his hand until his gift was merely inches from my face.
I let out an involuntary moan. Were I not already sitting, I would have collapsed onto the ground. My throat constricted, and I struggled to breathe, suppressing a scream at what I saw before me.
In his hand, de Tourrard held a human heart.
“Who…?”
“Your late husband,” de Tourrard said, his tone that of a man sharing pleasantries. “I find it ironic that you claim your heart belongs to him. Now, his belongs to you. I hear it is a delicacy and you must be hungry after such a long ride.”
“You truly are evil,” I sobbed.
“Not at all, my dear. I merely removed an obstacle, a man unworthy of you. He squealed like a stuck pig when I ran him through and pleaded like a baby before I tore his heart from his chest.”
Vane.
I thought I’d heard him whispering my name in my head last night. Perhaps that was the moment he had died.
Oh Vane.
“Oh Vane, indeed,” de Tourrard mocked.
I thought of Geoffrey, of Jack and Lily. Had de Tourrard murdered them all?
“W-was he alone when you killed him?”
“No.” De Tourrard laughed. “You poor little fool. I caught him rutting in the yard on top of a whore like a dog on a bitch. His body lies in the dirt with his breeches round his ankles for all to see what he was, a filthy peasant who sought to play the spy against his betters.
“You think you’re any better?” I cried. “You are sick, twisted, and evil. I will not stain myself with your touch—I would rather die first!”
“You have no choice,” he snarled. “The time will come when you’ll appreciate my attentions.
My cousin was only too swift to give you to his men rather than touch you himself, and the servant you fancied yourself in love with would rather spend his time rutting in the dirt with others.
Come, let us seal our betrothal with a kiss. ”
“Leave me be!” I pleaded, but he was too strong and forced me back, covering my body with his.
He forced his mouth over mine, violating it with his thick, savage tongue. With his free hand he grasped the front of my gown and tore at the material.
A cheer rang out, and he rolled off me, catching my wrists before I could strike him again.
“I will have you,” he rasped, “but for my own sport, not the entertainment of my men on the forest floor.”
“Never!” I cried.
“You will learn to appreciate me, my love,” he said, “and when I tire of you, my men will have their turn. Guy in particular has no qualms about enjoying my leavings.”
I could not sleep at all that night. My stomach growled in protest, but I refused to eat, instead watching as he nibbled at a piece of meat while looking meaningfully at me.
At length, he settled down beside me, and his breathing fell into a steady rhythm as he fell asleep.
Though thankful that he left me alone, I knew it would not be long before he claimed me as his.
Almost a sennight later we arrived at our destination. The terrain had begun to look familiar; forests and paths I had explored during my childhood, in happier times with Maman.
We were heading for Shoreton. Soon I would be home.
The day we arrived, I was riding with de Tourrard on his horse. We crossed the drawbridge in single file, then dismounted. The main doors opened to reveal my father, accompanied by one of his men-at-arms.
“Papa.” I clung to the hope he would take me into his arms, but he ignored me.
“So, you have returned, de Tourrard.”
“Aye, Shoreton. Our plans are well advanced. We have much to discuss.”
“Of course.” Papa gave me a cursory glance before turning to the man next to him.
“Take her to her chamber and make her presentable.”
“Papa, please!” I cried.
“You disappoint me, Lisetta,” he said. “But no more. Be thankful de Tourrard still wants you after your whoring, if only to inherit Shoreton. You deserve your mother’s fate, not the honor of being a baroness.”
De Tourrard stroked my hair. “Do not be so harsh on her, Shoreton. I will temper her behavior and ensure that you have a daughter to be proud of.”
He pulled me close and I suppressed a shudder of revulsion.
“Join us for dinner, my dear.” He planted a kiss on my forehead.
De Tourrard handed me to Papa’s man who led me through the courtyard.
A thick post stood in the center, still charred from the day Maman was taken from me.
I had returned to my home, the place where I had experienced such joy as a child when she was alive.
But I was no longer that child. The experiences of the past year had shed the cloak of childhood and removed the blindfold to reveal the true nature of the world around me.
He led me to my old bedchamber and locked me inside.
I wanted to escape, but where would I go?
De Tourrard would hunt me down. Not even the walls of the convent would keep him out.
A traitor to the king, he hungered for power and would stop at nothing to seize it.
But the king would not give me sanctuary.
By association I would be branded a traitor also.
“Oh, Vane—Geoffrey!”
Sinking onto the bed, I let the tears flow while my body shook with grief.
I had given up my son with no certainty he was alive.
The man I loved had been murdered, his body desecrated by the monster to whom I now belonged.
Vane had been found with a whore— proof, if I even needed it, of his indifference toward me.
Yet still I loved him. Tarvin gave me written words of love, but Vane had given me life. He’d delivered me from Mortlock, shown me a respectable, honest life. Most of all, he had given me Geoffrey.
But now, everyone I loved had gone. It would be better to join them in death than to live a life with de Tourrard.
He could not watch me forever. Eventually he would drop his guard.
I knew enough of herbs and plants to brew a poison that would deliver me.
The battlements were high enough for my body to be crushed beyond recognition from a fall.
All I had left was my life. De Tourrard would not take that from me.
My life was mine to end when I chose.
And I was ready to end it.