“Then it is good that I am with child. I will grow large and a few months before I am to give birth, I can die due to problems with my pregnancy. No one would question my demise.”
“That is a good plan and one I had not considered. We will talk on it when I return.”
“I will miss you.” Her gentle words were a plea from a loving heart.
He reached out to raise her head to his. He captured her mouth with a kiss that stole her breath. “That will keep me strong in your memory until my return.” He eased her head back on the pillow and tucked the covers around her. “Sleep well, wife, know you are safe and know that I love you.”
He left and Mary lay in the quiet of the night, the crackle of the fire the only sound in the room. The startling discovery that Decimus and Michael were one remained fresh in her mind. If she had been more aware of the subtle hints that connected the two men, she might have realized Decimus’s charade.
How could one man always manage to outsmart another? Never had the Dark One failed in his rescue attempts. And he had found ways into supposedly impregnable fortresses and keeps. Black magic had been whispered along with the Dark One’s name, for no common man could call the darkness friend.
But it was with patience, intelligence, and illusion that Michael achieved his goal. While the Dark One was hunted, he stood before their very eyes and no one knew.
She empathized with him over the loss of his family, recalling her own pain in losing her parents. There comes a time, however, when revenge can do no more and it must be laid to rest and life must go on.
The idea of spending her life without Michael was not a thought she cared to consider. She would not allow him to abandon her and their child out of duty. Time at least now was on her side. She had a few months reprieve to fashion a plan of escape, not only for her but for her husband as well. She would need help for there was much to consider and prepare for, and who better to assist her than Reena and Brigid. That would mean confiding in them the truth of Decimus’s identity. Could she trust them?
Without a doubt, though the knowledge could prove dangerous to them. It would have to be their choice.
She yawned and stretched, feeling more content than she had in weeks. It had been two months since her harrowing escape had begun. Summer fast approached and the fields would soon be lush with crops, the meadows a plethora of wildflowers, and she would be growing heavy with child.
Fresh, new beginnings all around and that meant for Decimus as well.
They would start anew, she would make certain of it.
It was her turn to play a charade and free him as he once freed her, and she would do it with confidence and determination.
He would expect her to shed tears and cry thinking of their eventual parting, and she would need to play the role well. It would not take much since just the thought of saying goodbye to Michael forever filled her with dread. She would not lose him. She would not let Decimus rob her of Michael. She would have her husband even if she had to bury Decimus to do it.
After all, the seer had spoken; she would be the demise of Decimus.
Now she understood, and she would see that the prophecy rang true.
Chapter 32
In public Mary played the obedient wife to Decimus extremely well, and the heartbroken wife to Michael, often appearing tearful over their eventual parting. Her true self was the scheming, independent woman who intended to have things her way, and she was proud of her.
Mary had asked for a note to be sent to Reena and had written it in a Celtic script that few could read or write, though she knew Reena would understand the words. Her message, she hoped, would bring a visit from Reena and Brigid and, of course, their husbands since the men would not allow their wives to travel alone.
The visit would give her time to confide the Dark One’s identity in the two women and formulate escape plans. She was taking a chance, a dangerous one, but then her husband was worth the danger.
She sat on a narrow wooden bench in a small flower garden behind the fortress. Loving hands tended this garden, forcing a tiny bit of beauty to grow in hell. Summer was but a week away and many flowers were in full bloom while others abounded with ripe buds aching to burst open.
“My lady,” a servant girl gasped, coming to an abrupt halt after rounding the corner of the fortress.
Mary smiled hoping to calm her unease. The girl appeared worn out, her brown hair hanging limply around her pretty oval face. Her hands, which she hugged in front of her were red and raw, perhaps from too much scrubbing in hot water. She was reed-thin and had the loveliest pale blue eyes.
“Is this your garden?” Mary asked.
The girl looked on the verge of tears and Mary hurried to assuage her concern.
“It is beautiful. You tend it with great care.”
“I—I—” she stumbled nervously over her words. “No one kn-knows of it.”
“A secret garden, how wonderful. May I share in it with you?”
The girl looked stunned, and at a loss for words, she nodded.
“Your name?” Mary asked.
“Jenna, my lady.”
Mary was not accustomed to being referred to as “my lady.” She did not feel the title appropriate or necessary. She would have much preferred for Jenna to know her as Mary.
“Jenna, a lovely name. Will you not sit with me and tell me about your garden?” With so much chaos of late it would be nice to talk of so simple a thing as a garden.
Soon Mary found herself on her knees weeding the flower patch with Jenna, who was surprised that a lady knew so much about plants.
“What are you doing?”
The harsh voice startled them both and when Mary looked upon Decimus, for an instant, she forgot he was Michael and cringed at the sight of him.
He was dressed completely in black except for a touch of gold trim. The furious glare in his dark eyes and his hands planted firmly on his hips almost made her tremble in fear. That is until she looked over at Jenna. The poor lass looked absolutely terrified.
Mary immediately sought to defend the cowering girl. “My lord, Jenna was nice enough to let me help her with this beautiful garden she planted for your pleasure.”
Jenna’s trembling did not cease, though her hand inched closer to Mary’s and rested against hers as if in appreciation and protection.
Decimus took a sharp step forward and Mary grabbed Jenna’s hand, holding her firm before she could fall back in fright.
“My wife will not tend a garden. That duty is meant for a servant.”
“And Jenna does her duty well, which I was thinking . . .” Though the thought had just come to her. “You promised me a personal servant to tend to my needs.”
He looked about to strangle her.
Mary smiled. “You are so very generous to me, my lord, and I would appreciate it if Jenna could be made my servant and mine alone.”
For a brief instant she recognized a glint of Michael in his dark eyes, and her heart filled with joy. She did so love that man and immediately felt guilty for toying with him.
“I would be most grateful, my lord,” she said with a bow of her head.
“You would serve my wife well?”
“Yes, my lord,” Jenna answered, though her voice trembled. “It would be an honor to serve your wife. There is nothing she would want for. I would see to her every need.”