Coulter, Catherine. Rosehaven / Catherine Coulter.

“All you can speak about is violence? You believe you or your husband over there can kill me? You bore me with all these threats-all the

same. I know they are empty. When I take you, you will see how helpless you are.” De Luci sank down into his lord’s chair. “I am hungry. It is time for the evening meal.”

Hastings realized that his violence against Eloise had temporarily relieved him of his rage. He terrified her. “I want you bathed and perfumed for me. Marjorie has told me that you have all sorts of herbs and perfumes. You will set about to please me, Hastings, or I will kill this whoreson husband of yours without another moment passing.”

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“I will please you,” Hastings said, and now, for the first time, she looked at her husband. Severin was standing between two of Lord Richard’s men, his hands bound behind him. He was dirty, his clothes ripped, but they hadn’t beaten him. She continued to stare at him, praying he would not respond to her words. Severin said nothing. He kept his eyes on Richard de Luci, not on her.

Severin said, even as he began to move his fingers, to regain feeling, to step from one leg to the other, to gain strength, “Do your men know that they will all die if you continue with your madness?”

“My men are loyal to me,” Lord Richard said, but he stared hard at Ibac, who stood at Severin’s right elbow. “They will follow my cornmands even to hell if need be.”

“It will need be,” Severin said. “I can promise you that.”

Hastings saw the rage rising again in de Luci. Severin was helpless. He could not protect himself. She quickly stepped forward, her fingers lightly touching de Luci’s sleeve.

Unfortunately when he turned to look at her, she didn’t know what to say. She wanted to kill him, but surely it wouldn’t be wise to tell him that. Not again.

“I am thirsty,” she said. “I would like some wine.”

De Luci relented, then called to a plump girl who was standing in the shadows, “Bring the wine. Do not add water to it or I will slit your dirty throat. If you dare to steal a drink, I will also know, for I will smell your breath.”

He turned back to Hastings, catching sight of his daughter, still in Marjorie’s arms. “Why do you comfort the scrap? She is as evil as her mother ever was. She will turn on you in time, Marjorie. I have told you that. Even though she is young, she is evil.”

Hastings thought if Eloise had any evil in her it had to have come from her father. She looked at Severin. She could tell by the darkness of his eyes that he was thinking furiously. But what could any of them do?

Then Hastings knew. She would have to kill de Luci, or die trying,

otherwise Severin would be killed. She shook her head even as she thought it. No, she would never let that happen.

When Hastings was sipping the sour wine the servant girl had brought, she watched other servants bring in platters of food for the late afternoon dinner. Men-at-arms came into the great hall, shuffling and silent, none of them looking toward their lord. Ibac moved Severin to a table and let him sit on the long bench. Then, to Hastings’s surprise, he untied his hands so he could feed himself.

She saw the leap of surprise on Severin’s face as well, then the utter joy, quickly masked. She felt calm flow through her.

The wild boar steaks, roasted, were dry and stiff as Marella’s new saddle, the onions and cabbage were mushy and had no salt. The bread was grainy. Hastings hoped de Luci would choke on it, but he ate with enthusiasm, his entire attention on his trencher.

Severin ate slowly, feeling the food, as bad as it was, give him needed strength. No sooner had he drained his mug than de Luci yelled, “Bind him again. I trust him not.”

He had no chance, for de Luci had pulled a dagger from his belt and held it to Hastings’s breast. At least he had feeling back in his hands. It would take a while for the tight ropes to numb them again.

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