Page 4 of The Forgotten Wife

She waited until he swallowed before she picked up her own fork. After a few, hearty mouthfuls, she put her fork down.

“The food is unsatisfactory?” he asked with a raised brow.

“No, it’s not that. I’ve eaten nothing but a few bites of bread for almost a week. If I eat too much too soon, it’ll do more harm than good to my digestive system.”

His head tilted to one side as he regarded her. “A delicate statement for such a strong woman.”

Her fists tightened in her lap. “You know nothing about me and cannot accurately judge whether I’m strong or not.”

“On the contrary, you’ve proven yourself a natural leader in the few weeks you’ve been here. Within a short time, you made certain key changes at the mission. And my men tell me you stopped the others, especially your priest, from misbehaving on the journey here.”

She glanced down at the pictures, desperately fighting back the feelings of vulnerability. “So you didn’t just watch my movements, you’ve been actively spying on me.”

He reached out, almost as if to touch a strand of hair that fell over her arm. At the last moment, he pulled back.

“I prefer the term ‘due diligence.’ Do you know what I discovered about you?” he asked.

Unable to speak, she just shook her head.

“You have an inner core of strength that’s admirable. The other three listen to you, look to you for guidance. They should thank you—it’s probably what has kept them alive.” The note of steel in his voice was back, and his jaw was set in a rigid line that struck fear inside her.

“What are you going to do with us?” she asked.

He fell silent for so long, she thought he wouldn’t answer her. Letting his fork clatter onto his plate, he rose. “Your priest is of no worth to me. He was only taken because your fondness of him meant you would be…cooperative on your journey. Provided he doesn’t cause any trouble, his stay with us will be brief.”

“And…the other two?” she ventured, wanting to believe him but knowing she couldn’t trust anyone with Mwana’s deadly reputation.

He shrugged. “There will be a simple monetary transaction which, should they cooperate, will see them free in a few days.”

She refused to feel any relief, because she knew anything could happen in hostage situations. “What…what about me? Will you set me free, too?”

The gleam in his eyes intensified, until a light burned so bright there, she held her breath. “I’m hoping we can come to an arrangement.”

Ice snaked down her spine. “An arrangement?” she all but whispered.

He nodded, and a swath of hair fell into his eyes. With a casual hand, he brushed it back and walked through the door. “We will discuss it in due course. In the meantime, if you wish, there’s water, a towel, and a change of clothes through there. Feel free to use them.”

And just like that, she was alone. Or alone as she could be, considering she was surrounded by dozens of men armed with assault rifles.

She took a proper look around, and for the first time, she noticed that although there was a living area and an alcove where a large basin filled with water stood, there wasn’t a sleeping area.

Unless, of course, Charles Mwana chose to sleep on the bare, mud-caked floor. She frowned. Somehow, the man who kepta well-stocked library and boasted an above-average intellect didn’t strike her as the kind to do so.

Which meant either this place wasn’t his permanent hideout… or her instincts about what was happening here were severely skewed.

That wouldn’t surprise her, of course. She’d been completely off base about her knowledge of men before.

Bitterness twisted through her as she went into the alcove and picked up the threadbare towel near the basin to wash. Her movements were mechanical as memories encroached, reminding of her other times when she’d let herself be totally and utterly misled.

No.

Those thoughts—that time—had no place here. What she needed to do was focus on keeping herself and the others safe. And on finding a way out of this situation.

Feeling clean and refreshed—albeit in her old, grubby clothes because she couldn’t stand the thought of wearing the clothes Mwana had laid out for her—she left the hut and went in search of Father Tom and the other two.

She found them in the last hut, with soldiers posted outside their door. The relief on the couple’s faces echoed her own, although their trepidation returned soon after.

“Do you know where they are taking us?” Hendrik asked.

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