Page 130 of Bride of Fire
Somehow she’d survive. She always had.
Scurrying past the workshops lining the walls, she ignored the guards at the gate who saluted her.
No one ordered her to halt.
Only when she slipped safely out the gate and into the thick of the woods was she able to consider her next move.
As she wended her way with breathless haste down the forest path, what finally came to her was as simple as it was devilishly clever.
There was no reason to fear Edward anymore, she realized. No one who knew the truth was alive. She’d been careful to leave behind no clues. So she’d march boldly up to the gates of Lord Edward’s keep and give them a story they’d not only believe, but beeagerto embrace.
Her lips curved into a smile as she congratulated herself on her brilliance.
As always, things had turned out for the best. Tossed by the cruel winds of fate, Alicia had once again managed to land on her feet.
Chapter 57
“Shall I stop her?” Jenefer called over her shoulder. As Lady Alicia stormed out of the gates toward the woods, Jenefer watched from the nursery window, her arrow trained on the fleeing woman. Even at this distance, she could kill the wench with one well-placed arrow or at least shoot a shaft into her arse to send her staggering to the ground.
“Nay! Don’t shoot her,” Bethac answered. “Morgan would ne’er forgive ye.”
Beside her, Feiyan squinted down at Alicia. “Thank God, she doesn’t have Miles.”
“Where will she go?” Jenefer asked Bethac, keeping Alicia in her sights.
Feiyan smirked in disgust. “Probably to her lover.”
“She won’t be back,” Bethac predicted.
Finally, as Alicia strode out of range, Jenefer lowered her bow. Though her aim had been steady enough, her hands were now shaking.
She’d never killed anyone. Never had to. But after witnessing the horror of what Alicia had tried to do—smothering poor wee Miles—she would have been glad to sink a shaft into the woman’s black heart.
Earlier, the three of them, crowded together at the window ledge of the nursery, had been able to hear much of what transpired in Morgan’s bedchamber. Still, Alicia’s vile shrieking before she charged out of the room had sent a ripple of shock through all of them, making them recoil from the window.
For an agonizing space of time, until she’d seen Lady Alicia fleeing the keep, Jenefer had feared the worst—that the madwoman might have taken Miles with her.
“Poor Morgan,” Bethac said, clucking her tongue. “He’s had to lose his wife twice now.”
Jenefer propped her bow against the wall and headed for the door. She needed to go to Morgan. To convince him that Lady Alicia’s desertion was for the best. And to assure herself that Miles was safe and unharmed.
“Nay, lass,” Bethac said, halting her with a hand on her forearm. “’Tisn’t the time. He needs to work things out for himself.”
A few days ago, Jenefer would have disregarded the maid’s advice. Accustomed to acting on impulse, when she wanted to do a thing, she did it. She never let reason delay immediate action.
But she’d begun to learn the wisdom of patience and the power of using persuasion rather than force. Though she hated to admit it, her aunt Deirdre might be right about using honey instead of vinegar to get one’s way.
So with a submissive sigh, she nodded in agreement and sank onto the edge of the bed.
“Morgan will come round,” Bethac confided. “Ye’ll see. And he’ll realize the answer to his woes is standin’ right in front o’ him.”
Jenefer looked up sharply. Was that approval in Bethac’s eyes? Was it possible she not only forgave, but condoned what had happened between her and Morgan?
It was almost too much to wish for. At the moment, she only prayed the maidservant was right, that Alicia would never return.
Combat had always served to help Morgan work out his frustrations and center his mind. So when Cicilia came to feed Miles, he snatched up his claymore and headed to the practice field. With each slash of his sword, he felt his despair dwindle and his resolve return.
He’d already lost Alicia once, so his grief was spent. All he felt now was disappointment and emptiness.
