Malcolm's Honor

“Silence.” Fury drove Edward forward, his royal robes whispering of masculine power as he moved. He leveled a mighty punch to her father’s jaw, and the man reeled backward, knocking against the stone floor. “That was for Edith, a gentle woman who suffered by your treachery. Guards, take him.”

Rough hands hefted Elin’s father from the floor and dragged him through the crowd toward the yawning doors.

Tears battered her eyes. ’Twas horrible to see Father so humiliated. Pity sliced through her, sharp edged and raw, and so great she could not draw breath. Her father, this man she’d feared and fought all her life, was no longer terrifying. He now cried like a child.

“’Twas my daughter and Caradoc!” Philip kicked and twisted, struggling to break free. “’Twas they who plotted against you. Caradoc thought himself next in line for the throne, once your cousin and your family were gone!”

“Silence! A true man faces his sins and admits them. He does not blame others.” Edward shook his head, as if truly saddened by events. But there was no softness in the gesture, nothing diminutive about him as he turned his gaze upon Elin’s face. ’Twas not a look of mercy.

She quaked before this man of great power who now sought to judge her, who even now might believe her father’s desperate accusation. What could she say to save her life? What argument would be good enough?

’Twas all she could do to draw air into her lungs. “Your highness, my father lies.”

“I commanded you to remain silent,” Edward barked, and his words reverberated off the stone and tapestried walls. Shocked onlookers gasped in the breathless silence.

How would he view the traitor’s daughter? Elin feared she already knew.

“Your highness, may I address you?” Caradoc’s arrogant voice fragmented the silence. His shoes tapped as he faced the king.

Elin’s chin fell. She stared hard at the floor. Please, Edward, do not listen to that rooster.

“Nephew.” Edward nodded. His voice was steady and betrayed no emotion or hint of what was to come. “Speak.”

Behind her, she heard the slight jangle of a knight’s chain mail. Malcolm le Farouche stood guard directly behind her, no doubt with his hand on his sword’s hilt. Was he so determined to see her punished? Or did he think she would push past the guards and flee?

Well, the thought had crossed her mind. But she was no coward, not like her father. She would face any fate but marriage to Caradoc.

The cocksure Caradoc gave a nod in her direction. “I’ve long been in love with Elinore of Evenbough and—”

Elin hopped to her feet. “You lie! I despise you—”

“Silence!” the king roared, striding swiftly toward her, terrifying in his anger. “I’ll not warn you again, lady. Sir Malcolm, I see now the trouble you had with this one.”

“Her worst weapon is her sharp tongue, highness.” Malcolm’s deep voice held a hint of mockery as his hand gripped her shoulder and forced her back to her knees. “She is not modest or well tempered.”

“’Tis true, sire.” Caradoc wrung his hands together, as if uncertain now of his case with the king. “I heard the lies Philip spewed as he was dragged from this chamber. But pray, do not believe the words of a proven traitor. Philip was sorely angry that I refused to rescue him in the forest, when I came to ensure my Elin’s safety.”

By the blood, she couldn’t believe this Caradoc’s wretched lies. “I’m not your—”

“Lady Elinore. Silence.” The king towered over her. “What am I to do with you, a woman who cannot obey a simple order?”

She remembered how Edward had struck her father, and knew that her life was forfeit to this man of wealth and power. She ought to take Malcolm’s advice and act contrite. She bit her bottom lip, determined to obey.

“I cannot release you. You are the daughter of a proven traitor.”

Her heart skipped five beats. “That doesn’t make me one, sire.” Then she clamped one hand over her mouth.

Edward paused, considering. His mouth quirked down in one corner. “Did you attempt to kill my knights with your poisons?”

“Of course not.” How could anyone believe that of her? “I’m a healer. I could never cause real harm. I was afraid no one in this court would believe me, so I chose to escape. I only meant to sicken your knights like the dogs they are.”

“Dogs?” Amusement glittered in those wise eyes.

Elin did not much like that he thought to laugh at her. Better to let her hang from a noose! She only told the truth. She would not stoop to lying, as Caradoc did. “Mayhap you would want to know how cruel your men can be. They trussed up my helpless old nursemaid, even though it was clear she was no traitor to the king and no threat. Do men of power feel greater when they harm those smaller? Methinks that is a sign of cowardice. And these are the men who serve you.”

“She offends the king!” A guard raised a hand to cuff her.

Malcolm’s hand curled around that offender’s wrist and stopped the blow. Elin gazed up into the Fierce One’s hard eyes, black and unreadable. Why had he protected her, he who vowed to condemn her?

Caradoc stepped forward. “Uncle, allow me to wed her. I will teach her submission.”

“I’ve heard from you enough, Nephew.” Edward rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I now require a word with Sir Malcolm. Only then shall I render a decision.”