grandfather, my lord. You confuse me with nonsense when more serious matters need be discussed. You truly do not like my hair this way?' she couldn't help but ask, and almost bit down on her lower lip for her foolishness.
'I do not,' Geoffrey answered. 'And your garments do not please me much either,' he added. He saw his wife's back arch in protest and did his best not to smile. 'Tomorrow we will see about having new chainses and new bliauts fashioned for you.'
'Is there anything you do like about me?' Elizabeth asked. She let her irritation show by jerking her hand from his arm.
'Perhaps,' Geoffrey answered. 'I will have to think on it and advise you later.'
His strategy was working. He was forcing his wife to think of other matters and hoped, when she came face to face with Belwain, she would not have had time to build her rage. She was like a small fire now, and as long as he and her grandfather continued to throw bits of water in her direction, she could not grow in intensity, becoming an inferno of emotion, out of control.
Elizabeth looked around the room and saw that Geoffrey's men were being friendly with the new soldiers. Everyone held cups of ale and already a free atmosphere prevailed.
'Where is he?' There was no inflection in her voice when she asked the question.
'Outside,' her husband informed her. 'He is seeing what repairs and changes have been made.'
'Perhaps it would be best if I went outside to greet him,' Elizabeth suggested in a flat voice.
'I think not,' Geoffrey replied. At her questioning look, he continued, 'I have your word that you will not try to harm him, and I know you will keep it.'
'Then why-'
'Come with me to the table,' he said, dismissing the subject. 'You are not to leave my side this eve.'
Elizabeth nodded and once again took hold of Geoffrey's arm. The crowd parted as they made their way to the long table and sat down. Geoffrey leaned toward his wife and whispered, 'Look about you, wife. Do you recognize any of the men?'
'Not yet,' she answered, turning her face so that she was just inches from her husband's. She felt very safe sitting so close to him, and that gave her the courage to look around the room, to study each newcomer. 'So many wore hoods,' she reminded her husband in a whisper.
When Geoffrey took hold of her hand and casually wrapped his arm around her waist, she knew that Belwain had entered the hall. She felt her husband's hand rest on the hilt of her dagger.
Elizabeth straightened her shoulders and gently removed her husband's hand from her waist. 'You will trust me as I trust you in this matter?' she asked.
Geoffrey looked down at his wife and nodded.
She turned away from him then and watched her uncle walk toward her. Roger was at his side, wearing a look of disgust.
Her gaze was as cold as winter's sleet, her eyes unblinking, as she studied her uncle. He was dressed as a rooster, in bright reds, except for the brown stain in the middle of his bulging stomach, and Elizabeth thought that he strutted like a rooster too.
Belwain glanced at her and found her stare unnerving. He faltered in his steps and turned to look at her husband.
'Good evening, Baron,' he said when he reached the table. He had to turn to his niece and acknowledge her, though he dreaded the task. 'You are looking well, niece.'
Elizabeth did not answer him, only continued to stare. Belwain cleared his throat and sat down opposite the pair. 'My heart aches for your loss, Elizabeth. I, too, feel a great sadness,' he added in a hurry.
A goblet of ale was placed before him and he grabbed at it, almost overturning it in his haste and nervousness. He downed the contents in two huge gulps and tried to cover the belch as he wiped his face with the edge of his sleeve.
'Where is the boy?' he asked then.
'You will not see him.' Elizabeth 's voice was hard.
'It is past his bedtime,' Geoffrey stated, his tone almost pleasant.
I cannot do this, Elizabeth decided as she watched the man sitting so calmly across from her. I cannot share a meal with this vile creature. She turned to look at her husband, willed him to understand, and then started to stand. Geoffrey would not allow it. He placed his hand on her shoulder and held her down, though to Belwain, who was watching the couple closely, it looked like an awkward show of affection on the lord's part. Belwain's eyes darted from one to the other and back again, his mind racing with his thoughts. Thank God I did not speak my true feelings concerning Elizabeth to her husband, he thought with a shiver. For some reason, the Baron has found favor with the bitch and would probably be outraged if he knew what I thought of her.
Belwain looked at Elizabeth and smiled. What a shame she did not die with the others, he thought. Such a disobedient, outspoken child, always so unimpressed with his attempts to win her favor. She seemed able to look through his exterior, and know his hatred. He didn't like her, aye, he did hate her… all of them, he thought. They were all trying to do him out of what should have been his. And when I am in charge here, she will be gone with the Baron. That, too, was a shame, he decided. He would have liked the chance to make her as miserable as she was now making him. To finally get even with her. He would wipe that expression of cold disdain off her face, skin and all, and then marry her off to one of his friends. Their sadistic ways with women would teach her a lesson she would go to hell with. His smile increased at his fantasy and he almost chuckled out loud. He caught himself in time and coughed.
'Have you given consideration to my rightful request?' Belwain asked Geoffrey, being sure to stress the word 'rightful.'
What request? Elizabeth asked herself. She turned to her husband and awaited his answer.
'This evening is not the time to discuss the law and your request,' Geoffrey answered. He motioned to his servants and pointed to Belwain's empty cup.
Belwain knew better than to press his issue. He nodded his agreement. He could wait. And he would win, no doubt about that, he thought. The law was on his side.
He looked at Elizabeth again and had to quickly pull his gaze away. She knows, he thought, but she can do nothing! His eyes became slits and his shoulders began to tremble with suppressed laughter. He felt himself grow hard with his thoughts and slid his hand between his legs hidden beneath the table linen. There is nothing she can do, he repeated as he stroked himself, nothing. You have no proof, slut, his mind screamed with glee.
Oh, that he could tell her! Yes, he would say, I helped with all of the planning and more! It was I who gave the design and the flaws of your fortress, and my only remorse is that I could not be here when they were all killed. Still it gave me great pleasure just to hear the telling… such pleasure that it took all three of his male companions to catch his orgasms, one after the other. It was the greatest day of his life, he decided.
He chanced a look at the Baron and his smile vanished. She has gotten to him, the whore! She has turned his head with false stories about me, that is why he looks upon me with such disgust.
But no matter, he consoled himself. The law be the law, Baron. There is nothing you can do either; you are too honorable, he thought, and almost snorted aloud. You would have proof before you challenge or deny.
Elizabeth found that she could not look at her uncle a second longer. She kept her gaze downcast and did not say another word until the meal was done. She refused to touch the food. It was tainted, with Belwain sitting at the table. She had no stomach for it but noticed that Belwain ate as if it was his last meal on this earth. And well it might, she thought just to ease her torment. Perhaps Geoffrey would change his mind, see that Belwain was the only one behind the murders. She knew she fooled herself, knew Belwain wasn't the only one involved. Her husband's reasoning made sense. Belwain was stupid, too stupid… but God's truth, the waiting was becoming unbearable.
When the meal was over and the table cleared, Belwain stood and strutted around the room. He grows more cocky with each drink, Elizabeth saw, and dresses the fool.
She closed her eyes against the sight of him and wished it was possible to close her ears as well. The noise from too much drink was becoming deafening.
And then she heard it. The laugh. It was more like a screech, unusual in sound, but one she had heard before, the day of the massacre. Her eyes flew open with the recognition and she tried to find the one making the sound. There were too many blocking her view. She would find him, she would, she told herself. She stood, jarring her husband with the force, but her eyes were not on him. She continued to search the room, watching and
