It
was no huge affair like Cecile’s, but a small family wedding. Still that meant
guests in the mansion house and the tower. Dressed in her wedding finery, a
bottle green velvet gown faced in gold cloth, Clothilde left them behind to
descend the steps into the lowest level of the tower where they had a cell. It
was dank and musty, only dimly lit by flickering torches and probably black as pitch
if no one remembered to light them. She could not remember at that point how
long Dain had been there.
He
did not look bad—not tortured, not starved or beaten, just detained. For which
God be praised, she thought, as angry as Guie had been. Still, he had not
abused his prisoner and many would have. Dain was astonished to see her, rising
from his cot in the bare cell as if seeing a vision. Clothilde supposed she did
appear far different from the blowsy creature he had taken for a maid. If he
looked wary, it was small wonder.
From
one of her voluminous sleeves she took the key Estman had given her. Dain had
not said a word.
“You
are released,” she said, swinging the door open.
“How
is that?” Their prisoner was justifiably confused. From her other sleeve, Clothilde
drew out a purse.
“Today
I am marrying Sir Estman. He is the one you saw in the road with my
brother-in-law, the day you were taken.”
Dain
gave her a slight smile. “Never would I have taken you for Lord Hugo’s
daughter. You seemed more like one of us, you understand. If I’d just known.”
“Well,
I didn’t wish you to know,” she said briskly. “For my wedding gift, Estman has
given me your freedom.” She glanced down at the purse in her hands. “And your
reward. Go back to your cottage, Dain. You have enough money now for a fresh
start. No more smuggling. You’ll only get killed that way and your sister needs
you.”
“How
did you do it? Why?”
“Tis
only a wedding gift,” she said, as if it didn’t signify. In reality, she knew
exactly what it meant—a man’s life. She had never understood that she held that
kind of power, simply because she had been born into a particular family.
“So
you’re to be married?” he mused, looking at her and taking the purse. “I do
recall, now you mention it, they threatened you with it that day. Meant it, did
they?”
She
smiled tightly. Somehow this simple man understood more than her own family
did, probably because he had been the victim of people like them all his life.
She had never thought she would be.
“These
lands and titles do not come without a price.”
Thank you for hosting my book today. I hope readers will take advantage of the opportunity to enter the drawing for "Flame of Normandy." All books in this series can be read as stand-alones.
ReplyDeleteYou're welcome!
DeleteI have read several of Miriam Newman's books and loved them all. I hope to get read her other ones.
ReplyDeleteSounds like an incredible read.
ReplyDeleteThank you both for visiting!
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