Page 9 of The Herald's Heart
“Without my family’s marriage box, I cannot.”
“I thought so.” He turned away.
“You don’t understand.” She grabbed his hand.
Talon looked over his shoulder at her, his brows raised in question.
“The box contains the proof I need. I must find it.”
Talon shook free of her grip to pick up his shirt and pull it over his head. “If there even is such a box, why would it be here at Hawksedge Keep and not at Rosewood?”
Larkin opened her mouth, but raised voices from the bailey forestalled her reply.
Talon stepped up to into the window niche. “It seems the villagers are anxious to know if I found their ghost. Come.”
He gripped her wrist and pulled her along behind him. Eventually, she would have to admit her lies. For now, he would use her as proof that Hawksedge Keep was not haunted.
• • •
Larkin was compelled to follow or be dragged. She’d had enough manhandling, thank you very much; walking was the better choice. Perhaps if she cooperated she might gain her freedom, and she wanted, nay needed, that above all else.
His long strides forced her into an awkward skip-trot in order to keep up without tripping over her torn gown. Trying not to fall occupied her so much that she slammed into the giant’s back when he stopped abruptly. He twisted around and lifted her bodily to plunk her down in front of him without ever letting go of her.
“Watch where you step,” he grumbled in her ear, as if it were her fault that she bumped into him.
She looked up, about to let him know what she thought of him, and saw the villagers crowded into the bailey below. What were they doing here, and what would they say of her if he asked them?
“’Tis Larkin,” called the captain of the keep’s guard, Cleve, who stood with three other men near the main gate.
Other calls echoed his, filling the air like the chitter of flocking birds.
“Larkin the carter.”
“Liar Larkin.”
“Well, Sir Talon.” Cleve stepped forward to the front of the crowd. “Did ye see the ghost?”
“Nay, I saw no ghost.”
Cleve puffed out his chest and smirked. “I thought not. No man would survive a night spent in the keep with the devil’s kin about.”
Talon smiled and surveyed the crowd. “However, I did encounter the spirit that frightened you all.”
The smirk fled Cleve’s face. Murmurs rippled through the crowd behind him. His expression turned crafty.
“If ye saw no ghost, what proof is there that ye met the spirit?”
A woman swaggered to stand beside the guard. “Aye, give us proof, Sir Talon.”
Larkin recognized her as Alice, the earl’s cook. While many of the others kept their distance, afraid reprisals might come from the earl, Alice had always been friendly.
Talon pushed Larkin toward the edge of the steps. “Your ghost stands before you.”
Stunned quiet met his announcement.
Larkin tried not to tremble. In the earl’s absence, how would the villagers react? Perhaps a few of the men whose attentions she’d rebuffed would try to see her punished. But most of the villagers put up with her, if for no other reason than the love they bore the abbess. Mother Clement had ensured their tolerance by giving Larkin the pony and cart along with a small hovel on the border of the abbey lands. She carted the villagers’ wares and ran errands for the folk, saving them time and extra steps. When the earl was absent, as he often was, the villagers supplied her food and other necessaries that she could not provide for herself.
Would they be angered at her deception? They had every right to be. She had certainly belied any trust they might have in her. Silently she begged understanding from those nearest to her.
