Page 34 of The Herald's Heart
“You deceived yourself. I never lied,” she protested.
Aware of the curious eyes and ears around them, Talon decided to move this conversation elsewhere. He mustered all the anger he could, directing it at Larkin instead of the mysterious person who’d tumbled stones on her, sent arrows flying at her when she was alone, and may have pushed a child into a fire knowing Larkin would risk her life for the child.
“I will have the whole truth from you, Larkin, and have it now.”
With every eye in the kitchen staring, he bent and lifted her over his shoulder.
“What are you doing? Put me down.”
“Nay.”
“Oaf. I shall carve your liver and feed it to the dogs.”
He barked a laugh. “Too bad you dropped your knife.”
She rained blows on his broad back.
Talon only forced more laughter and marched from the kitchen to the great hall, then beyond to the solar. Once there, he tossed her onto the bed, then spun on his heel and dropped the bar on the door before turning back to her.
Now, away from prying eyes and ears, he could vent his anger at her use of truth as a deception and maybe teach her to have some concern for her own safety.
• • •
She eyed him carefully. He’d said many times he did not force women, and she believed him, but his odd behavior and angry assertion of old accusations gave her pause. Why? And what could he possibly want that required he bar the door on any interruption? Had she any choice, she might have run from the keep and never returned, but his looming presence prevented her. She would have to wait until he explained himself, but she didn’t have to like it.
“Now, Lady Larkin Rosham, I will have the complete truth from you.” He settled onto the bed beside her.
“You believe me? Why?” How was it possible? She did not know whether to laugh or weep. Seven years she struggled to make known who she was and all called her liar. Now a royal herald accepted her word, without any proof. She still wished to find the marriage box, to strengthen her claim, but the support of King Edward’s herald might be enough all by itself, for the heralds were the king’s witnesses to the identities of all his nobles, especially those the king had never met in person.
“Since the start, you deceived not just me but everyone, so I still have doubts.” Idly he clasped one of her hands in his.
“Then why address me by my title? Was that nothing but cruel mockery?”
He matched his gaze with hers. “I am not a cruel man.”
She frowned. “Then help me understand what this is all about. How can you say you believe me, then claim that I deceived all, when I never spoke anything but the truth?”
He was silent a long while. “The night I caught you haunting the keep and I said I thought your speech well-schooled for a peasant, did you deny it?”
“Why should I? My mother did school me well.”
“Aye, even to singing Norman learning tunes about the Christ child. A thing no English peasant would ever know or care to repeat.”
“’Twas no deception to speak as I was taught.”
“But you allowed me to think it was,” he hissed.
“I could not prevent you.”
His hand tightened on hers, then stroked. “Aye, you could not.” The strain left his voice.
Larkin clamped her teeth on the bitter anger she wanted to hurl at him. She straightened. His unyielding grip forced her closer to him.
“You would blame me for a belief you took upon yourself?” She kept her gaze level with his.
“Nay, too much blame has been laid at your door. If you truly are Lady Larkin Rosham, you will know the events of your family’s fate in every detail. You must tell me all. Begin with your bridal journey to Hawksedge Keep and end with how you came to haunt this place.”
She backed away from him, but he locked an arm about her waist, anchoring her in place.
