Page 34 of A Second Chance for Carys
“You whore!”
James froze when Margaret’s insult scalded his ears. Not her! And especially not now, when he was about to kiss Carys. His fingers tightened into her soft hair, frustration radiating through his every bone. His lips were an inch away from her mouth, his heart was thumping hard in his chest, and he had to stop and see to a woman he wished never to see again.
Would there be no end to the trouble Margaret caused him?
As soon as he had finished talking to her, he had run back to Carys, to tell her that it was all over. Thanks to her, he wouldn’t have to marry a woman he didn’t want. The relief had been so overwhelming he had drawn her into his arms to do what he had been prevented from doing the day before. She had not pulled away, rather looked at him with eyes aglow with hope and desire. The temptation had been impossible to resist. They were alone in his room, and there was a bed behind them.
He would kiss her, then he would take her to bed.
For once, he didn’t want to think, to fear, or worry about the consequences. Carys knew what he feared so he trusted she would help him stay in control when the moment came. In any case, it was either risk it or go mad with frustration. Having escaped Margaret’s clutches, he felt reborn. Having been told what she had done, he felt the need to cleanse himself.
Carys would be the one to do that for him.
They had been about to kiss when the door to his bedchamber had burst open, allowing an irate Margaret into the room. Damnation! How had she known where to findthem? Had she followed him after their discussion, then waited, listening at the door? If she had, she would have heard everything, and understood what he and Carys were about to do.
When he turned to face her, Margaret didn’t spare him a glance. She was glaring at Carys as you would to an enemy, her eyes burning with an unholy fire. “You whore! You told him what I did, didn’t you, you turned him against?—”
“There is only one whore in this room,” James cut in, his voice like ice. “And it is not Carys. You had better remember it before I gag you.”
“This is all her fault. You were going to marry me and now?—”
“I would never have married you.” Was she really so deluded? “I sensed there was something not right with your story. I would have waited for your belly to swell to decide anything and it wouldn’t have taken me long to see that there was no child, and therefore no reason for us to marry.”
She completely ignored him and turned her attention back to Carys, who had taken a few steps back. “You wanted him for yourself, you bitch! You were jealous I was going to get him. Well, if I can’t have him, then, neither can you.”
With those words, Margaret drew a knife out of her sleeve and launched herself at Carys. There was no time to think. James threw himself between the two women, desperate to stop the murder of an innocent. Seeing she was going to be stopped, Margaret changed tack and swung her arm in a wide arc. There was no avoiding the cut. The knife caught him on the cheek, slicing at his flesh, but he barely registered the pain, too intent on neutralizing her without breaking her arm. Fury was lending Margaret more strength than he would have thought possible. Still, she was too small, and ultimately no match for him. If she was determined to kill, he was twice as determined to survive.
The knife fell to the floor with aclang. He kicked it to the other end of the room, where she wouldn’t be able to retrieve it.
Margaret did not stop struggling, however. Taking advantage of James’ resolve not to hurt her, she wiggled like a worm, making it impossible for him to hold her in place. She roared, clawed at his face, did her best to bite whatever part of him she could reach. There was no other choice but to stun her. He could not risk having her launch herself at someone else when she left the room a defeated woman only to hurt another innocent. In the state she was in, she might even cause herself harm. His blow caught her just under the chin.
She dropped like a stone, the silence in the room deafening after the mad struggle.
James let out a sigh of relief.
“Go get help,” he instructed Carys, kneeling by the unconscious woman. He could not go himself, in case Margaret came to while he was gone. He needed to be the one to face her if she started to lash out again.
Carys nodded and ran to the barbican, not thinking for a moment to argue. The scene she had just witnessed had been terrifying. Who would have thought a woman as small in stature as Margaret would struggle so fiercely? It had been obvious James had done his best to control her without inflicting any pain. Considering what the woman had done to him, she thought his restraint commendable. In the end, though, he’d had no choice but to stun her.
It had been the quickest, safest solution.
When she came back a moment later accompanied by three of the guards, she found James standing by the window, looking as calm as if nothing of importance had happened. His profile, carved against the whitewashed walls, was heartbreakingly beautiful, his dark skin offering a striking contrast to the paleness of the background.
His orders were delivered to the men in his flat, matter-of-fact voice.
“Please take my sister-in-law away. I’m sorry to say that she attacked her ladyship’s mother for no reason that we can discern.” He sighed, as if pained by this development. Carys of course knew better. “I had no other choice but to stun her to stop her from injuring herself. She will need to be put under lock and key, for fear she tries to hurt someone else. Do not let her sway you with her bile when she wakes up. Ignore what she says. She lost her children recently and I think she is not in her right mind, as can be evidenced for this unwarranted attack.”
The tallest of the men gestured to the other two that they should carry her between them. “Of course. You can be sure she won’t escape until you have decided what to do with her.”
“Thank you.” James carried on staring straight ahead, not sparing them or his sister-in-law a glance.
The three men left, a limp Margaret with them. Carys could not find it in herself to pity the woman. After all she had done, she deserved nothing less than to be locked in a room to reflect on her perfidy. Once they were alone, James left his place by the window to come stand in the middle of the room. All the air left her lungs.
“Dear God, but you’re bleeding!” she cried out, running to him.
There was a cut on his cheek, just below the eye. How had she not seen it before? The whole left side of his face was covered in blood. It was a horrific sight but James placed a finger on his cheek and shrugged.
“’Tis nothing.”
