“Anything.”
“I know it’s tempting to think that the situation is hopeless and that the contest ended in failure. You might even think it’s in your best interest to go to the convent now.”
I nodded. He’d read my mind.
“But there may yet be hope,” he said. “Will you wait the full week before you go?”
The abbot released an exasperated breath. But the duke continued before I could add my protest. “I just need one week,” he pleaded. “Please?”
What good will come of one more week? Except that it would drag out my heartache and postpone having to accept my fate.
The expression on the abbot’s face echoed my thought. But I nodded anyway. How could I deny my old friend his request? “If you wish it, I shall wait one more week.”
“And one more promise, dear one.” The duke squeezed my hands. “Please see that Derrick doesn’t come to any harm.”
The guards had taken him down into the dungeon underneath the castle. I hadn’t been to the dark underground hovel in years. In fact, I’d only gone once, and the scurry of rat claws against the stones had awakened my nightmares. I’d been unable to sleep for many nights after the visit.
“Is it really necessary for him to be in the dungeon?” I asked the abbot again. “Are you sure he cannot be locked into one of the chambers instead?”
“I’ve already made an announcement to the townspeople that the criminal responsible for the sheriff’s death has been caught and is locked in the dungeon. If you set him free, what will the people think about your leadership? Would you have them know you as fair and just or as someone moved by every whim of your heart?”
The duke gave the abbot a sharp sidelong glance. “I have a feeling the solitude of the dungeon will be the safest place for Derrick during my short absence.”
“The safest place for Derrick?” I repeated. The duke made it sound like Derrick needed protecting.
“I’ll be leaving his squire to keep watch over him,” the duke continued, “but nevertheless, I ask that you make Sir Derrick as comfortable as possible while I’m gone.”
“I’ll make sure my guards know they’re to treat him with the utmost kindness.” It was the least I could do for the duke and for Derrick.
The abbot pursed his lips and caressed the wooden cross in his hands. “I hope you don’t think you’re going to set Sir Derrick free when you return, unless, of course, you have the proper proof that he’s innocent.”
The duke’s hand stiffened around mine, but his composure remained the same. “We shall speak of the terms of release once I return.”
Even if the duke’s test for true love had failed, I still trusted and believed in him. I was confident he would do the just and right thing where Derrick was concerned.
“Don’t forget your promises to me.” He bent and kissed the top of my head.
“I won’t.”
Then with a final, sad smile, he spun on his heels and left the chapel. Even before he’d had the chance to ride away, I was already wishing for his return.
Chapter
19
I froze on the first landing of the dark passageway that led to the dungeon. A waft of dank, sour air sifted over me, making my nose wrinkle.
“My lady?” whispered Bartholomew, my faithful old guard. He was already halfway down the first set of winding steps. He peered at me over his shoulder, his eyebrows raised. When he lifted his torch, the flickers cast ghoulish shadows on the stone walls.
“Do you want to go back?” he hissed through the gap where he was missing his top front teeth.
I shook my head and took a step forward. My slippers were soundless, and I wrapped my cloak tighter around my night gown. I’d come this far. I couldn’t turn back now. Even if everything within me longed to retreat.
I’d promised the duke that I’d make sure Derrick was treated kindly. After more than a day of doing nothing but imagining him shivering and hurt in his dark cell, I’d decided I needed to go down and discover for myself how he fared.
Bartholomew started forward again. His shuffling footsteps echoed too loudly as he continued his descent into the bowels of the castle.
My legs trembled, and I could only stare into the dark abyss that awaited, as the nightmares flared to life in my mind: rats in the bottomless cage, digging frantically and hungrily through human flesh.
My gaze flew back to the door at the top of the stairway, where the abbot had positioned two guards. I didn’t have to go. I could send Bartholomew down to bring back a report.
Besides, I doubted Abbot Francis Michael would approve of me descending into the dungeon to speak with Derrick. But since the abbot had returned to the convent that afternoon to make preparations for my move, I didn’t have to worry about earning his censure.
An Uncertain Choice
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