The High Sheriff of Huntingdon (9 page)

“Husband,” she said.

For
a
moment
the rest
of the
room
faded
into
oblivion
as they
s
t
ar
ed
into each
other’s
eyes.
His were
dark,
unreadable, yet
th
e
r
e
was no
missing
the
fi
e
r
c
e
intelli
gence
or the
disturbing
light as he looked down at her.

She knew
what
he
would
see.
Pale, over-tall,
too
skinny,
a
nd
utterly insignificant.
With luck
he’d
send
her back
untouched.

He smiled
then,
a
cool, mocking
smile
that
neverthe
less had
the force of a
blow.
“My lady wife,” he
mur
mured in
return, taking her hand and
pulling
her to her feet.
“Welcome
to Huntingdon
Castle.”

And
in the
distance,
Elspeth cou
ld
h
e
a
r
De Lancey’s
muffled snort of laughter.

2

All
in
all, Elspeth decided
three days
later,
married life
agreed
with
her.
For
one thing,
since
that
initial
confrontation,
s
h
e
had
yet
to
see
her
husband
again.
Apparently
he
found
his
auburn-haired
companion
far
m
o
r
e
enlivening,
for which Elspeth
breathed
a
heartfelt
,
Thank
God
.
Or
at
least, she
thought
s
h
e did.
Her life
with
the
Sisters
of
the Everlasting
Martyr
had been
cozy
and
communal, with
lo
n
g
stretches
for
meditation
and day
dreaming.
Her
life
in
the
haunted
t
o
w
e
r
of Huntingdon
Keep was
just as peaceful, if a
little
more lonely.

For one thing,
Helva, her sour-faced
maid, was
not the most cheerful companion.
She was a great believer
in d
o
om
and
destruction,
and
she spent the
long after
noons
enlivening
Elspeth’s
hours with
tales
of
her new
husband’s perfidy.

“His mother’s
a witch,
you
know,” she
said, her
strong, rough h
a
n
d
s
busy working
on
the
ugliest
tapestry Elspeth
had
ever seen. She
could
only
hope
it wasn’t a
present
for her new
mistress.
Elspeth had a
dislike
of
dead game,
and
Helva
was using
far too
much blood
red
for
her tastes.

“Is
she?” Unlike
m
o
st
of the people she knew,
E
l
s
p
e
t
h didn’t
believe
in
witches.
She
w
a
s
also
wise enough
not
to
mention
that
fact
too
often,
since
people
usually
as
sumed
t
h
a
t
those
who denied
the
existence
of
witchcraft
were
intimately
acquainted with
its
workings.

“Morgana,”
Helva
had
s
a
i
d
,
chewing
vigorously.
“No one
sees her
nowadays, and
a
lucky
thing
that
is.
She’d
put
t
h
e
evil eye
on you,
s
h
e
would,
and
there’d
be
no saving
you.
I
h
e
a
r
d
of
a woman
w
h
o
ran into
her
in
the
forest by
accident, and nine months
later
she
ga
v
e
birth to
a
monster.”

“I
wouldn’t
think
she’d put
a curse
o
n
her own grand
child,” Elspeth said
calmly.

Helva li
f
ted her
head to
stare
at her new
mistress.
“You’ll
not be s
a
y
in
g
you’re
already
carrying
a
child?”
she demanded, aghast.
“The
sheriff
hasn’t
come
near you
in
the last
three
days.
I
should
know.
I’ve
slept at
the
foot
of your
bed.”

“And
snored quite
loudly,”
Elspeth
said.

“He
hasn’t
touched
you.
If you’re
pregnant,
he’ll
strangle
you
with
h
i
s
own
hands. And
you
a
ho
l
y
sister.”

“I’m
not
pregnant,”
she
said,
leaning
b
a
c
k.
“Not
unless there’s
to
be
a
second virgin birth.”
She could see
t
h
a
t
she’d shocked
poor
Helva
to t
he depths of
her mean
little
s
o
u
l.
“Don’t worry,
Hel
v
a.
There’ll
be
no
early children from this
marriage.”

“Not until he
has
you,” she replied.

Elspeth’s
fingers
tightened into fists. She
wasn’t
afraid of
much in this life.
She often
insisted
that he
r
fearlessness
simply came from a lack
of imagination,
but
in
recent
days her
cool
temperament was
more
an act
than
a reality.
The thought
of
A
l
i
s
ta
i
r
Darcourt
putting
those hard, beautiful
hands
on
her
was
quite
terrifying.