Page 35 of Anice’s Bargain

12

The note. James had seen it pass from Drake’s damned hands into Anice’s and had rescued it from the flames. Ire rose in him like bile.

The stables tonight.

Anice hadn’t seen him do it. And for all her talk of passion, she was doubtless already well-versed in such matters of intimacy. Innocence at kissing could always be pretended. He’d known her excuse for passion to be a flimsy mask for what she’d meant by her confessed secret, but he hadn’t presumed she’d been protecting Drake.

James could scarcely contain the energy pumping hot through his tensed muscles. But what he was about to do required a warrior’s stealth. Control. He drew a deep breath to rein in his anger and silently cracked open his door to reveal a guard standing in front of it.

James waited until the man looked down the opposite end of the hallway, then shoved the door open completely. It smacked into the guard, catching him off-balance. Without allowing the man to recover, James jerked his elbow upright and caught his opponent under the chin.

The Werrick soldier dropped to the ground like a heavy sack of grain. He’d rise later, once James was down the hall and on his way to the meeting point to witness the planned tryst.

Undoubtedly, Anice thought she’d been discreet when she read the note and deposited the scrap into the hearth. She hadn’t accounted for the bit of parchment to float just outside the reach of the flames as she checked about her.

He’d been a witness, unseen, and had rescued the missive from the fire.

The stables tonight.

The three words ground into him like splintered wood. Anice had played him a fool, the same as Morna. Fire burned in James’s veins so intensely, he wanted to roar.

The handsome warrior was Anice’s lover. James would interrupt them, catch them in the act to have his proof and discover the true secret she’d been so unwilling to bare.

A tight band squeezed at James’s chest, brutal and unexpected. He ought to have anticipated such from Anice. After all, she was the most incredible beauty he’d ever laid eyes on, more so than even Morna. Still, he’d thought Anice above that. Their interactions had suggested a woman of better bearing.

But then, she too had lied.

James avoided the soldiers as he navigated the darkened halls of Werrick Castle, until he made his way into the cold night air through one of the side entrances. The guard there had been as easily handled as the one outside his room. Not slain, of course. He’d simply knocked the sense from the soldier.

The moon was bright that evening and shone down upon him with more light than he preferred. He skirted the castle walls, moving soundlessly among the shadows to ensure he was unseen. His heart hammered in his chest like a war drum. He’d initially been so eager to catch Anice in her betrayal, but now he was apprehensive. His stomach roiled with disgust.

He needed to face what she was. He crept into the barn through an open doorway and stopped. A figure stood in the shadows. One he recognized to be Anice.

She squirmed and writhed. As though in the throes of passion.

The world shrank around James and suddenly he did not want to be there. He didn’t want to witness her deception. The air became too thin to breathe and he was immediately transported to that awful day. When he’d stumbled upon Morna.

These stables at Werrick were empty, so like the ones he’d found Morna in, the motion of her moving. Except Anice did not cry out with pleasure.

She gave a growl as she twisted about. Her arm stretched behind her back. The sound did not seem to be laced with passion.

She uttered a very unladylike curse.

Piquette laid on the floor by the wall, a massive lump in the dark.

The edges of James’s panic softened. Anice was alone, or certainly she would have asked for assistance as she was obviously struggling. She wouldn’t be alone long, however, or there would be no point to the note.

She might very well be attempting to disrobe, given the awkwardness of her movements.

No sooner had the understanding struck him, the sound of footsteps came from outside the stables. Anice stilled at once and her attention snapped to the front of the stables. She uttered another curse and ducked deeper into the shadows.

As though she were frightened.

Piquette lifted his large head.

James’s heartbeat came faster, this time with concern rather than dread. The air crackled with awareness, the way it often did prior to battle. His body tensed and he crouched lower in the darkened stable, prepared to strike.

The footsteps went silent, but James could sense an additional person in the stables with them. It was in the pressure of the air, the tension in his gut. Was it Drake? Someone else?