An Uncertain Choice(49)

“No,” I assured him. “The day was perfect. And you were right. It far surpassed anything else I’ve done this month.”

The uncertainty lingered in his eyes. I wanted to reach out and span the distance between us, but instead I smiled and hoped it conveyed the depth of my appreciation for our day together. He hadn’t sought to amaze me with riches or beauty. He hadn’t tried to entertain or woo me. Instead, he’d taken me to the filthiest, poorest places to mingle among my people and help them. He’d shown compassion and insight. And he’d pushed me to do the same.

Derrick seemed as genuinely concerned about the plight of the poor as I was.

As we passed through the city gates, Derrick glanced to the duke and the guards, who’d fallen behind us. Then with a half smile, he drew his horse nearer so that his foot within the stirrup almost brushed me.

He reached for my hand and slipped his fingers through mine. The tender hold made me exhale in contentment. I resisted glancing back to the duke to check for his approval. Surely this linking of our hands wouldn’t displease him even if it was rather bold.

“You’re a strong woman, my lady.” His voice was pitched for only me. “You have earned my deepest respect for facing all that you did today with such dignity.”

Before I could think of a response that would vocalize all I was feeling, we broke into the town square and found ourselves on the outskirts of a gathering in the market green. To my dismay, in the center the sheriff stood before a man tied to a post. The man was stretched taut, and the sheriff was in the process of pressing a hot iron against the man’s bare back. Several bright red welts already dotted his flesh.

The instant the hot iron seared the man’s skin, his hoarse screams rose above the clamor of the townspeople who’d gathered to watch the display.

Nausea immediately welled in my chest, but anger rose just as swiftly. “Release him this instant!” I called. And without a moment to lose, I pulled away from Derrick and charged forward on my horse.

At the pressure of my horse bearing down on them, the townspeople couldn’t ignore my presence as they had the last time I’d tried to stop public torture. With silent fury spurring me on, I urged my horse onward until I crashed into the center green. I didn’t stop until I stood before the sheriff.

I jerked my riding whip toward the sheriff’s outstretched arm and slashed at the hot iron. The snap and power of the coil forced him to let go of the torture instrument and drop it to the ground.

As I worked to calm my emotions, I sat stiffly in my saddle. I sensed more than saw that Derrick had followed and was beside me. The crowd behind us had grown silent, so that the only sound was the labored breathing of the man tied to the post.

“What is the meaning of this, sheriff?” I demanded. “You know my laws forbid public torture.”

The sheriff’s eyes narrowed on me, and he wiped his hand across his dark beard and mustache, grumbling something behind his hand.

“Watch what you say, sheriff.” Derrick’s voice was hard. “You’d do well not to insult Lady Rosemarie unless you wish to pay for it.”

“And what are you going to do?” The sheriff’s expression turned derisory. “Are you going to cut out my tongue?”

“As tempting as the prospect is,” Derrick said, “I respect Lady Rosemarie’s decision not to inflict torture.”


“Oh, but yes,” the sheriff said with a thin smile. “You wouldn’t dare disobey Lady Rosemarie, would you? Not when you hope to win her into your bed.”

With a growl, Derrick slid from his horse, unsheathed his dagger, and had the blade pressed against the sheriff’s heart before he could blink.

I sucked in a sharp breath of panic, especially at the sight of the blood that pooled around the sharp edges of the blade.

“Sir Derrick! Please take care,” I urged. I didn’t want him to do anything rash that he might later regret.

At my words of caution, Derrick loosened his grip on the sheriff’s cloak. But the muscles in his arms and back were rounded with strength and anger. He bent in so that he was almost spitting in the sheriff’s face. “Your blatant disregard for Lady Rosemarie’s wishes disgusts me.”

Derrick thrust the sheriff away with a force that sent the man stumbling backward only to land on his backside. Derrick then strode to his horse and in one swift motion was astride again. He glared down at the sheriff, who stared back just as darkly. “Be certain of this, sheriff. If you ever speak ill of Lady Rosemarie again, I will not cut out your tongue.” Derrick’s steely voice carried over the gathering. “For I shall cut out your heart instead.”





Chapter

18




The nightmares came again that night, unbidden, unwanted, but certainly not unexpected.

Restless, not only from the terrible dreams but also from all that I’d witnessed during my day with Derrick, first thing in the morning I met with Abbot Francis Michael in the chapel to pray. As much as I dreaded what I must do, I also knew it was past time to exert my authority as master and ruler over the lands of Ashby. My first act would be to discipline the sheriff. Although he’d once earned my father’s gratitude for protecting me, I had to make an example of him by taking away his esteemed position — ?perhaps even putting him in the dungeon for a time. With only a week until my eighteenth birthday, I had to let him and all my people know that I was to be obeyed.