Page 53 of The Herald's Heart
He hesitated. “For your safety.”
“Bah. ’Tis not what you said at the time. You did it because you thought me guilty of murder and that someone would wreak vengeance for the earl’s death by killing me.”
“If you will recall, I also said that two previous attempts on your life placed you in the greatest danger.” He shot out of the chair and advanced on her. “But I do think you capable of taking a just vengeance on a heartless man. Just as I know you capable of lies, deceit, and trickery in pursuit of your name and your home.”
Larkin backed away.
Talon pursued.
“You ... you are right.” She sidled around the bed, aiming for the door. “I did many of those things. But I did not kill the earl, and I. Do. Not. Lie.” Her back hit the stonewall.
He caged her with an arm on either side of her head. “Then why do you deny the desire that rages between us?”
“Because to acknowledge such feelings for my husband’s son would put both of our souls at risk. To yield to passion would condemn our souls for certain.”
With an anguished groan, he flung himself away from her to stand before the hearth, head bowed.
She still felt caged. “Talon?”
“You are right.”
“Did you just say I was right?”
He raised his head to look at her, a smile on his lips but his eyes full of sorrow and regret. “Do not tease, sweet Larkin. I’ve known we could not be lovers since the day you sang a Norman lullaby to Aedwin and trusted me with the story of your family’s massacre.”
“Then why bring this up now?”
“Because I did not want it to be true.”
“Yet you publicly accuse me of murdering your father.”
Talon sighed. “I was wrong about that too.”
Larkin’s world shifted, and she stumbled to the hearth stool beside Talon. She could barely believe her ears. “What did you say?”
His mouth twisted on a dry laugh. “I said I was wrong.”
“About what?” Even to her own ears, she sounded sarcastic. She knew as well as he did what he’d been wrong about. Still, she needed to hear the words.
“I was wrong to believe you guilty of murdering the earl. Wrong to think revenge, title, and lands of more import to you than your name and justice.”
“Why? What could possibly change your mind?” Did she really hope that he’d decided to trust her word?
“Dame Margery and Mother Clement. The anchoress explained the complicated process to blend oils and scents with the wax and still retain the purity the earl demanded. You would have had to work for days to achieve the right blend. She also told me that she gives the candles to the nuns to be wrapped and sealed, that you got the candles from the abbey.”
Larkin’s shoulders slumped. “The anchoress and the abbey are much the same to me. I use them interchangeably.”
“I figured that out before I spoke with the abbess. Mother Clement confirmed that, save for the night before the body was discovered, you have not been inside the abbey since the earl ordered you to be cast out a year ago. With all the will in the world, you could not have made those candles or had them made and sealed before you delivered them. You are innocent, and I was wrong. I beg your pardon.”
She folded her hands before her to still the trembling relief that his words brought.
“You don’t seem surprised,” he said.
“’Tis nothing I did not know.”
“Why did you not tell me?”
“I tried to, but you would have none of my protest. You locked me in here without listening to me.”
