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‘You are the strategist, my lord,’ A
Simon considered. ‘He wanted me to believe Henry dead in order to provoke me,’ he said slowly. ‘He wanted to end the siege, to drive me out into the open so that he had a better chance to defeat me.’
‘Exactly so.’
‘So now he has two advantages.’ Simon was thinking aloud. ‘He has forced me into a rash course of action and he still holds my brother.’ He nodded slowly. ‘It is very cu
He knew that to trust her was madness. Even now she might be lying to him, tempting him to withdraw his troops, tricking him to defeat. Every instinct in his body protested that she was honest, but he could not afford the weakness of allowing himself to feel sympathy for her. He was tired. His mind was clouded with fatigue and the prospect of the killing to come and he knew it could be fatal to his judgement.
A
‘I do not lie,’ A
Simon pulled her to her feet so abruptly that her chair rocked back and almost fell. She felt taut beneath his hands, shaking with anger and resentment.
‘Fine words, my lady,’ he said. ‘Yet you must have lied to one of us, to Malvoisier or to me. And he is your ally now.’
A
‘Aye?’ Simon’s voice was harsh as he prompted her. He was breathing fast. ‘What of him?’
A
The silence spun out between them, taut with tension. It was, Simon knew, the closest that A
‘No. I will not call off the assault.’
He saw the shock and horror on her face and realised that she had been certain, convinced, that he would do as she asked. She straightened up, her eyes riveted on his face.
‘Do you not understand, my lord?’ she demanded. ‘Sir Henry is too weak to move—too weak to fight! When you attack he will be killed in the battle or, worse, Malvoisier will take him and string him up from the battlements! He is a hostage and Malvoisier will use him to barter for his freedom—or to buy yours! Whichever way you look at it your brother is a dead man!’
‘And do you care about that?’ Simon asked harshly.
‘Of course I care!’ A
‘And yet you thought to use him to buy the safety of Grafton,’ Simon said bitterly, ‘and I ca
A
They stared at one another for a long moment, dark eyes locked with dark.
‘Even if I called off the attack, I could not free Henry,’ Simon said. He tried to ignore her taunts and the anger they stirred in him. ‘You are correct—he is Malvoisier’s hostage. The only way I can save him is through taking the Manor.’
A
Simon reached the door in two strides and blocked her path. He leaned his shoulders against the panels and folded his arms. A
‘Of course it is the case that you have given me the means to counteract General Malvoisier’s plan,’ he said quietly.
A
‘What do you mean?’ she said.
Simon gestured about the room. ‘It is true that Malvoisier holds Henry, but you are here now, in my power. A hostage for a hostage, a life for a life.’ He held her gaze. ‘I will use you to free Henry, Lady A
Chapter Two
The disbelief and disillusionment hit A
‘My brother is an honourable man. He will thank you for your intervention. He will treat you with all respect…’
And she had believed him. She had remembered the Simon Greville that she had known all those years ago and she had believed without question. How unutterably foolish she had been. In her desire to do the right thing, to tell Simon Greville the truth about his brother and save both Henry and her own people, she had walked directly into peril and into the hands of a man at least as dangerous and ruthless as Gerard Malvoisier himself. She had risked all for justice and this was how Simon Greville, her former suitor, had repaid her.
She spun around so quickly that, on the table beside her, the wine cup trembled and almost fell.
‘You will not do it!’ Her voice broke, betraying her desperation. ‘I trusted you! I came here in good faith to negotiate a truce.’
She saw Simon’s expression harden. ‘As I said before, it is best to trust no one.’
There was silence for a brief second. A
Physically he looked much the same. He had filled out over the intervening years so that now he was not only tall but broadly built as well. He was very dark, with the watchful gaze and the chiselled, patrician looks of a plaster church saint. Unlike his brother, he seldom smiled. But Henry Greville was little more than a charming boy. Simon was a man and altogether more formidable. He was powerful, cold, calculating—and merciless. She should have seen it. She should have run when she had the chance. Instead she had been lulled into a false sense of security by believing Henry and trusting her memories of his brother. She had put her safety in this man’s hands. She felt betrayed. All her disgust, with herself as well as him, rose to the surface.