Alice whimpered.
Not even out of breath, Beth frowned at their astonished audience. “Everybody out.”
After an instant’s pause, a stampede ensued, leaving her alone with her antagonist and Michael, whose mouth hung open.
“Michael, would you give us a minute, please? We need to have a little talk.”
He closed his mouth, but made no move to leave.
“We’ll be fine,” she coaxed. “I promise.”
He frowned. “I shall be right outside the door should you need me.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that.”
Beth contemplated Alice’s messy hair for a long minute after he left. “I’m going to let you up now. But if you give me any trouble—I mean any trouble—I will take you right back down again. Do you understand me?”
No response.
With a mental shrug, Beth released her hold on Alice and backed away.
The other woman lurched to her feet, stumbled once, then spun around and glared at Beth while she rubbed her aching shoulder.
“I’m going to give you a little advice,” Beth began, “that is frequently passed around where I come from. You would do well to keep it in mind.” She would have to clean it up a bit, but the message should get across all the same. “You shouldn’t provoke people. You never know who you might be dealing with.”
The woman’s scowl deepened.
Beth rolled her eyes. “Look, I have neither the need nor the desire for enemies, Alice. Your name is Alice, isn’t it?”
Again, no response.
“I have enough problems as it is,” Beth continued. “I don’t need you causing more. Now, I don’t blame you for wanting Robert. I really don’t. I am well aware of his appeal and his many good qualities. But I want to make this perfectly clear to you.” She took a step forward. “You cannot have him,” she declared, voice stony. “He’s mine.”
Boy, it felt good to say that. So good that she decided to say it again. “Robert is mine. Whatever happens between us in the future is exactly that… between us. Just him and me. If you or any other woman who has her eye on him—don’t think I haven’t noticed that there are several of you—ever try to deceive us or come between us with schemes or bullshit lies like this again, I will have no other choice but to grind you into the dirt.”
Her tone left no doubt that despite her diminutive size, she would have little difficulty doing so if challenged.
Alice’s scowl shifted into a worried pucker of her brow. “How did you know?” she asked with a hesitance she hadn’t displayed earlier.
“Know what? That you and Robert have never been lovers?”
“Aye. Even those who live here were uncertain.”
Beth shrugged. “I just knew. Why did you lie and say you were?”
Alice cast the doorway an uneasy glance.
“It’s all right. No one is listening.” She had sparked Beth’s curiosity now.
“The men mock me,” Alice admitted uncomfortably. “As do some of the women. Because of my height. I thought they would cease if Lord Robert showed an interest in me or if I could at least make them think he did.” Her gaze fell. “It worked for a time, but then you came and their taunts grew worse.”
Beth sighed. She could see the men making Alice miserable for being taller than they were. And there were always petty, malicious people who enjoyed saying nasty things about others because of differences in their appearance. Beth had been ridiculed herself often enough to know the hurt such could generate. During her childhood and adolescence, she had been made fun of for being short, pale, freckled, and more. To this day, she did not understand people who had to jeer at and look down on others in order to feel good about themselves.
She never would.
“Okay, here’s the deal,” she announced. “If you intend to continue whispering behind my back, glaring, sulking, scheming and turning your friends against me, or if you ever try to seduce Robert, then I will kick your ass out of here, because I do not need the headache. And by here I mean Fosterly. I don’t want to see you in the keep. I don’t want to see you in the inner bailey. And I would rather not see you in the village. If, on the other hand, you cut the crap and start anew, just do your job and don’t give me any grief, then you are welcome to stay.”
“But what of my punishment? I shamed you in front of the others.” Her nose and eyes reddened. “Will you have me whipped?”
“Whipped?” Beth repeated, appalled. “Hell, no!” Sheesh. She couldn’t believe she was actually starting to feel sorry for the woman, but damned if Alice didn’t look like she was struggling not to cry.
Beth frowned. Hadn’t Michael mentioned something about the previous owner of Fosterly treating the servants harshly? And that a lot of them had died because of it?
Had the bastard actually whipped women for mouthing off?