Her ears rang from his roar as he pursued her across the room.
“Tell me who it was.” His tone softened, became well-modulated, even conversational, though she found it no less terrifying. “Who was it, Beth?”
“It was no one,” she stammered, glancing behind her to ensure she didn’t back herself into a corner. She didn’t care for the murderous glint that had entered his eyes.
“You have no reason to fear.”
“You’d think differently if you could see yourself right now,” she retorted.
“It was lies. All lies. I promise you.”
“I’ll go along with that.” Whatever would lessen his fury.
“Alyssa is all that is good in this world,” he vowed fervently. “She is kind and thoughtful and beautiful. As beautiful on the inside as she is on the outside.”
Beth frowned, her steps slowing. Wait. What?
“She has devoted her life to aiding others,” he continued, “healing them and bringing them back from the brink of death time after time, with no care for the pain it causes her. Only once has she lifted a finger to harm another. And despite what you may have heard, it was in defense of her own life when the villain tried to plunge a dagger into her breast. Her soul is pure and innocent, free of any taint of evil. And I know of no other who would sacrifice so much for so little.”
Beth stopped.
Robert no longer stalked her, too consumed now with listing this other woman’s virtues, rambling on and on about how good she was and how beautiful and wonderful.
Beth’s blood began to boil as he continued to praise his precious Alyssa, whom she hadn’t even mentioned, damn it.
“I am certain Father Markham would be more than happy to correct any notions you may have to the contrary,” Robert informed her. “She is sweet and generous and…”
He made this Alyssa sound like a bloody saint! A wholesome, generous, spiritually perfect, physically exquisite saint. The man was in love with her!
And it made Beth want to scream, which she did when Robert continued to gush over his goddess’s virtues. “Who the hell is Alyssa and what the hell does she have to do with anything?” she bellowed, unable to take any more of the torture.
Robert stopped mid-sentence. Startled into silence, he took a step backward and lost his scowl. “What?”
“I said, who… the hell… is Alyssa?”
Though not as deep, his scowl returned as he propped his hands on his hips. “What game do you play, Beth? You asked me about her yourself.”
“I did not! You just started gushing over her. Who is she?”
“You know who she—”
“Is she your wife?” she demanded furiously. “Why didn’t you tell me you were married?” When she recalled how he had held her and kissed her and let her snuggle up to him in bed when he’d been married all along, it made her want to explode. What, was the woman away visiting family or something?
“I am not wed,” he denied.
“But you want to be, don’t you? Are you engaged? Is that it? You’re engaged or betrothed or however the hell you want to put it?”
“Betrothed to whom?”
“To Alyssa!”
“Alyssa is my brother’s wife.”
Oh, this just got worse and worse. “You’re sleeping with your brother’s wife? How could you, Robert?”
“I am not! I did not!”
“But you want to! You love her, don’t you?”
“Nay! Aye! That is, I—”
She took a combative step toward him. “You put me in your mistress’s room and dressed me in your mistress’s clothing?”
“Alyssa is not my mistress!”
“But you just said you want her to be!”
“I did not! Why are you shouting at me?”
“Because I’m jealous!”
She roared the last word so loudly—lengthening and extending it in almost a growl—that the people down in the great hall probably heard her.
Beth drew in a deep breath and struggled to bring her fury under control.
“Robert,” she said, making her voice low and even the way he had, “so help me if you don’t wipe that grin off your face, I am going to wipe it off for you. And that is not a threat you should take lightly.”
The grin fled, replaced by sparkling eyes and a look of innocence she found equally aggravating.
“I’m warning you…”
“I am not grinning,” he protested. His lips twitched.
“That does it.”
Robert caught her fist before it could connect with his nose and brought her white-knuckled fingers to his lips for a kiss. “Beth,” he said tenderly, foiling her attempts to withdraw her hand, “Alyssa is my sister by marriage, but I love her as if she were my sister by blood. ’Tis all there is to it. I assure you there is naught”—he gave her fist a little shake—“in my relationship with her that should inspire jealousy, nor has there ever been. Verily, there was a time when I treated her most abominably because I thought her a wicked sorceress.”