An Uncertain Choice

She crossed to the rusted bars and peered inside.

The guard raised his torch so that the light fell upon me, revealing my filth and the state to which I’d fallen. I was tempted to shrink back. I didn’t want her to see me this way. But the eagerness in her eyes sent another wave of need into my blood, stirring it faster. I took a step toward the bars, wanting to reach for her and draw her close.

She glanced over her shoulder then and visibly shuddered. “I haven’t been down here in years,” she said, looking around again and drawing near enough to the bars that she almost touched them.

“Why have you come now?”

In the light of the torch her beautiful blue eyes were filled with honesty. “I’ve been worried about you, and I had to see for myself how you were.”

“I’ve been better.”

Her face crumpled in distress. “I shall have you moved to a chamber upstairs immediately.”

With a sudden lurch of anxiety, I shook my head. If I allowed her to move me, what would the abbot do next? To her? His threat may have been subtle, but it had spoken loud enough to me. “I must stay here, my lady. I dare say you have the nicest guards and the finest prison I’ve ever been in.” I gave her a wry grin, hoping to ease her discomfort.

“You’re sure you’re well?”

I nodded, and in spite of how I smelled and looked, I bent closer to her. I caught the sweet scent of roses that was uniquely hers. “And you? Are you well and safe?”

“I’m well in body. But disquieted in spirit.” When her gaze met mine, I saw fear radiating from deep in her eyes.

My muscles tensed. “What’s wrong?” Was she in some kind of trouble?

I couldn’t stop myself from slipping my hand through the bars and taking hold of hers. Her fingers were cold but soft. And I was relieved when she didn’t pull away, but instead gripped me tightly, as if I was her only hope.

“Tell me what ails you,” I demanded, my chest swelling with the need to burst out of prison and defend her against whatever enemy she was facing. It didn’t matter anymore that she’d not risen to my defense in the Great Hall.

How could I blame her for remaining silent? She hadn’t known me long. She was wise to show caution when faced with the kind of evidence that had been brought against me. If anything, I should be angry with her for searching me out down in the dungeon, especially because of the possible danger she could bring on herself if the abbot were to learn of her visit.

She glanced around again and shuddered so violently it rippled through my hand all the way to my heart, piercing me with a fear I’d never believed possible. I looked to the guard who had accompanied her to the dungeon, and he seemed concerned for Rosemarie as well. “Is someone trying to harm you, my lady?”

“No,” she said with a faint smile. “It’s just my past coming to haunt me.”

“What of your past?” I asked, trying to keep my voice gentle.

“’Tis silly, really.” She ducked her head. “Only the nightmares of a torture I once witnessed by chance. I should have forgotten the scene by now. But there are times when I cannot . . .”

“Like when you saw the man in the boiling water?”

She nodded. “Or when I see rats.”

“Rats?”

Her voice dropped. “They’d put cages upon the stomachs of the men, bottomless cages, with starving rats inside.”

“Speak no more of it,” I urged softly. I knew well enough the method of torture — ?that the frenzied rats would gnaw and dig through the human’s flesh until they reached the entrails. It was a slow and excruciating way to die. “I’ve witnessed it once myself. As a matter of fact, I saw it here the day of your parents’ funeral.”

Surprise flitted across her delicate features. “Then perhaps we witnessed the same scene.”

My muscles tensed as I thought back to the men’s agonized screams as they lay dying. “I took pity on the men and hastened their death.”

Her eyes widened and she studied my face.

“The duke had given his approval,” I explained, hoping the darkness of the dungeon kept the grime on my face hidden. “He would likely have done it himself if I hadn’t spoken first.”

“I’ve always wondered who showed those poor men compassion.” A small smile graced her lips. “And now it would appear that you are the one to whom I owe my deepest gratitude.”

“No, my lady —?”

“Now it would appear that I’m indebted to you again.” Her smile inched higher.

In spite of the grave circumstances, I couldn’t resist teasing her. “Shall I start to keep a tally of your debts to me? I wouldn’t want you to forget to give me my rewards.”

She ducked her head, and I was sure if there had been enough light I would have seen a pretty flush on her cheeks.

I grinned, even as my insides flared with the thought of the kind of reward I truly longed for from her, though I would never ask for it now.