Chapter Ten #3
“It does not matter what you want,” he growled. “Sit down. You and I have much to discuss.”
She glared at him. “If you do not let go of me, I will scream and Zeus will come in here and throw you from the window.”
Ciaran wasn’t pleased with her disobedience, but he let her go.
“Chase me away and you will never know peace,” he said in a low voice.
“By the rights of God and the law, I am still in control of your destiny, so I would remember that if I were you. All I have to do is go to the local magistrate, tell him of your disobedience, and you will be forced to comply.”
She stepped back from him. “Comply with what?”
He looked at her before giving a wry snort. It was humorless. “Sit down and I will tell you.”
With a sharp sigh, Desdra moved away from him and sat down in front of the hearth. She made sure to be within reach of the iron poker in case her father got any wild ideas. He wasn’t beyond violence and she didn’t trust him.
Not in the least.
“Well?” she demanded. “What do you want?”
Ciaran sat down in the chair opposite her. “I will be brief,” he said. “You have been here at Aphrodite’s Feast for three years, have you not?”
“You know I have.”
“My debt to Chester de Long was paid within a year and a half.”
“I know.”
“But you refused to come home.”
“For good reason.”
“Did Chester pay you for the months you served him and did his accounts?”
Desdra paused. “Why do you ask?”
“Answer my question,” Ciaran said. “And if you think not to, I will go to Chester directly and ask him. If he refuses, I will find that magistrate and tell him that Chester has imprisoned you and charge him with abduction. Need I go on?”
That gave Desdra pause. She didn’t want her father to know that Chester was dead, mostly because it would give him a reason to demand she come home. No Chester, no more debt, and there was literally no reason for her to be here. She didn’t want to give him that ammunition against her.
“He paid me wages that were commensurate with my duties,” she said. “He did not cheat me if that is what you are asking.”
“How much money do you have?”
She frowned. “I will not tell you anything more until you tell me why you are asking these questions,” she said, but even as the words came forth, it occurred to her why. She already knew. “Wait… I know what this is about. You need money.”
“If you already know that, then tell me how much you have.”
“I will not pay your debts, Ciaran.”
She never called the man Father or Papa, always Ciaran because that was the kind of relationship they had. He wasn’t a father to her, merely the man who’d helped give her life. But Ciaran didn’t like her attitude and he leaned forward, glaring menacingly.
“You will give me your money,” he said. “It belongs to me. You are a woman without a husband, meaning any money you have is mine. Women cannot have their own money.”
“And yet I do. You cannot have it.”
He was prepared to explode at her but thought better of it. Somewhere in the past year or so, she’d grown up. There was some bravery there. Or hardness. He couldn’t decide which, but one thing was for certain.
He couldn’t frighten her into compliance.
Therefore, he had to be clever.
“I am in trouble, daughter,” he said, hoping to appeal to her compassion. “A very bad man wants money from me. Benedict tried to appease the man and, for all I know, it was that man who killed your brother. He will do the same to me if I do not pay him what is owed.”
As he’d hoped, the mention of Benedict drew a reaction. “Who is this man?” she asked. “Do you believe he killed Benedict?”
Ciaran nodded. “It is possible,” he said. “Benedict was trying to help me negotiate a way to pay the man when he was killed. I will pay you back in time, but I need the money now or my life is forfeit.”
Desdra was frowning at him. “You have done things like this my entire life,” she said. “You spend money you do not have and expect others to pay your debts. That is how I ended up here. I paid your debt to Lord Chester. Now you want me to pay another debt.”
Ciaran was struggling not to become angry. He did much better when people were obedient to him. Desdra’s defiance was something new, and he didn’t like it.
“Then let me speak to Chester,” he said. “The man is wealthy—mayhap he will loan me the money and keep you on in repayment. Where is he?”
Desdra shook her head and stood up. “I cannot help you,” she said. “You should leave.”
Ciaran stood too. “I will not leave until I have an agreement,” he said. “Let me speak with Chester.”
“Nay,” Desdra said. “Get out. Go back home and take your punishment from this man, whoever he is. You deserve it.”
Ciaran’s patience snapped. He was on her in a flash, grabbing her by the arm again and squeezing.
“Listen to me,” he hissed. “You will do as I say. Either give me your money or fetch Chester. Mayhap he thinks you are worth something and will give me what I want. You can stay here and work off the debt. You can rot for all I care. But you will do as I say.”
Desdra’s features were tight with anger. “Let me go.”
“Not until you do as I say.”
Enraged, she tried to yank her arm out of his grasp. “Let me go or I’ll scream!”
Ciaran’s other hand shot out and he grabbed her around the neck. “I’ll snap your throat before help can arrive.”
Desdra went into panic mode. Lashing out a foot, she caught him in the groin, causing him to lose his hold.
But she pulled away from him so hard that she ended up falling back over the chair.
Ciaran charged at her but she pealed off a scream, enough so that Zeus appeared in the doorway.
When he saw Ciaran standing over her and Desdra on the ground, he launched himself into the chamber and grabbed Ciaran before the man could run off.
He had him by the back of the neck, shoving him out of the chamber as Desdra picked herself up.
She could hear her father shouting and cursing all the way down the stairs.
Rubbing her neck, she rushed over to the window in time to see Zeus literally throwing her father out of the entry door.
Ciaran sprawled on the dirt, furious at his treatment, demanding to see Chester, but Zeus and two other Guardians were there, unmoving sentinels as he tried to get back in and impervious to his demands.
Ciaran tried to push past them, several times, and he ended up being knocked back on his arse.
The activity got the attention of the knights by the river.
They were only across the road and it wasn’t difficult to hear Ciaran shouting his demands.
They headed in the direction of the commotion, just in time to see Zeus toss Ciaran on his arse again.
It was the fourth time. As the seven of them, Hugh included, began to head toward the brawl, Ciaran picked himself up one last time and saw the incoming knights.
Thinking they were reinforcements coming in to assist The Guardians, he had to fight back his indignation in lieu of self-preservation.
He brushed himself off and quickly headed down the road toward the east, in the direction of the livery where he’d left his horse.
He was practically running, knowing he couldn’t survive an attack by ten big men. Even he wasn’t that stupid.
But he was wounded.
Pride only, but wounded just the same.
And he would have his revenge.