“Did I not order you to remain in your room?” he asked approaching her.
“I grew bored.” She remained firm in her stance, showing no fear, and caught several of his men snickering at her.
“You dare to disobey me?”
His anger was about to erupt and she was not certain what he would do. She backed away from him.
“Do not move away from me.”
She stood where she was.
“You will learn obedience.”
“Aye, my lord,” she said, bowing her head in submission. He was much too angry to attempt reason. Acquiescence was her only choice.
“When I order you to do something you will do it without question. I care not how bored you grow, my word is law and you will obey.”
Silence was her only defense.
“I will not tolerate blatant disobedience.”
“I am sorry, my lord,” she said attempting to appease him.
“Sorry means nothing if it is offered without truth.”
He accused her of lying. He did not trust her and that could prove dangerous for her.
“I am sorry,” she reaffirmed more strongly. “I have yet to learn the ways of a good, obedient wife. I ask your forgiveness and patience with me. I will attempt to do better.” She bowed her head once again.
“Your apology will teach you nothing,” he said. “Punishment will.”
Her heart stilled for a moment, fearing his punishment may be severe enough to harm her unborn babe.
Mary waited for him to dismiss her, but instead he ordered her to sit in a chair near the hearth. She was grateful for the fire’s warmth. Her soaked garments chilled her to the bone and she had begun to tremble. She huddled close to the fire, the heat helping to calm her shivers, though not her concerns. What punishment would Decimus inflict on her? Would it harm her unborn babe? Her disturbing thoughts grew along with her fear.
Young lad after young lad was marched before Decimus and Edmond, and the large man shook his head at each one, until he finally cried out.
“This is him, this is the lad who tricked me.”
Mary turned wide eyes on the young man and noticed that his clothing was similar to the clothing she had worn.
“You are sure?” Decimus asked.
“Yes, and if you give him to me I will get a confession from him.”
Good lord, she could not let the horrified young man suffer for what she had done.
“I have done nothing,” the young man said trembling. “I have tended the horses. One is ready to birth and I have seen to her care.”
“You lie.” Edmond spat at him. “You were in the dungeon.”
Another young man stepped forward. “John speaks the truth, my lord. He has been with the mare all day. He has never left her side.”
Decimus turned to Edmond. “You will know more pain than is possible if you lie to me and accuse an innocent young man to save yourself.”
“He looks like the lad,” Edmond said contritely.
“You may go,” Decimus said to the two young men, and they scurried out of the hall as fast as possible.
He ordered his men to continue searching the grounds and the fortress, though he told them that he believed Roarke long gone. He ordered Edmond to wait in his solar and then he pointed Mary toward the staircase.
“Our bedchamber.”
Mary was led up the stairs, trying desperately to calm her worries. She had the unborn babe to consider, and she must do whatever necessary to keep him from being harmed.
After closing the door, Decimus descended on her with a rage. “Did you have anything to do with this man Roarke’s escape?”
Chapter 30
Mary placed her hand to her chest as if in shock. “My lord, how can you ask me that?”
“Do not play games with me.” He grabbed her by the arms. “You are soaking wet.”
“And chilled.” She kept her demeanor calm.
“Take your clothes off,” he ordered sharply.
He released her, went to the bed, pulled the blanket off, and returned to her.
Panic rose inside her. Did he intend for them to consummate their wedding vows now? She was cold, exhausted, and had little strength left to protest, not that she could. It was her wifely duty; she had no choice. With slow, trembling hands she tugged at the ties of her blouse, praying for courage.
He shook his head, dropped the blanket, and rid her of everything but her nightshift. He stared at her, his eyes so heated they should have warmed her but instead a shiver raced through her. He wrapped her in the blanket, securing her arms in a tight cocoon.
She was unable to move, her arms taut against her sides. She felt trapped and vulnerable like a prisoner with no chance to defend.
“You think to make a fool of me? You think I believe your lies that you were exploring the castle? Do you wish to be punished?”
She remained firm in her lie. “I speak the truth.”
“I think not,” he raged. “I think you helped the prisoner to escape.”
Fear prickled her skin, but she refused to cower to his anger. She had to remain strong and convince him she had nothing to do with Roarke’s escape. “I did no such thing. Why would I?”
“Because you are a fool,” he said with a near shout.
“You are the fool for believing me capable of such a task.”
“Capable?” He all but laughed. “It takes strength, courage, and fearlessness to escape and you have proven to me that you possess all three. You did, after all, escape my prison.”
“With help,” she reminded him.
“Exactly,” he said with a smile that chilled her. “You were helped, so now you help another. Is that what the Dark One taught you? To risk your life for someone of no importance?”
“I did not risk my life.”
“You risked more than you know,” he said, his tone threatening. “You think I will not punish you?”
He pushed the chair closer to the fire and with a push and a shove forced her to sit. “Think on what your foolishness will cost you.”
He stormed out of the room slamming the door shut behind him.
She shivered, then loosened her arms and hugged the blanket tightly around her. What had she done? Had she placed her unborn child in harm’s way? Would Decimus feel it necessary to punish her to save face in front of his men? She could not even use her pregnancy to prevent torture for then he would know she had been with another man.
Good lord, what had she done?
“Mary.”
She turned and quickly searched for Michael.
“Where are you?” she asked anxiously.
The dark figure stepped out from the shadows.
“Are you all right?”
She ran to him, throwing herself into the safety of his strong arms.
He embraced her fiercely.
“Oh, Michael. I have been so foolish,” she said, holding on to him and never wanting to let go.
“Tell me what is wrong.”
“I helped Roarke to escape. I had to. He would have suffered greatly if I had not set him free.”
He eased her away from him but held her arms firmly. “You should not have taken such a dangerous chance. I would have helped him.”
She shook her head. “He was badly hurt. He needed to escape then or he would never have survived.”