Belwain knew better than to press his issue. He nodded his agreement. He could wait. And he would win, no doubt about that, he thought. The law was on his side.

He looked at Elizabeth again and had to quickly pull his gaze away. She knows, he thought, but she can do nothing! His eyes became slits and his shoulders began to tremble with suppressed laughter. He felt himself grow hard with his thoughts and slid his hand between his legs hidden beneath the table linen. There is nothing she can do, he repeated as he stroked himself, nothing. You have no proof, slut, his mind screamed with glee.

Oh, that he could tell her! Yes, he would say, I helped with all of the planning and more! It was I who gave the design and the flaws of your fortress, and my only remorse is that I could not be here when they were all killed. Still it gave me great pleasure just to hear the telling… such pleasure that it took all three of his male companions to catch his orgasms, one after the other. It was the greatest day of his life, he decided.

He chanced a look at the Baron and his smile vanished. She has gotten to him, the whore! She has turned his head with false stories about me, that is why he looks upon me with such disgust.

But no matter, he consoled himself. The law be the law, Baron. There is nothing you can do either; you are too honorable, he thought, and almost snorted aloud. You would have proof before you challenge or deny.

Elizabeth found that she could not look at her uncle a second longer. She kept her gaze downcast and did not say another word until the meal was done. She refused to touch the food. It was tainted, with Belwain sitting at the table. She had no stomach for it but noticed that Belwain ate as if it was his last meal on this earth. And well it might, she thought just to ease her torment. Perhaps Geoffrey would change his mind, see that Belwain was the only one behind the murders. She knew she fooled herself, knew Belwain wasn't the only one involved. Her husband's reasoning made sense. Belwain was stupid, too stupid… but God's truth, the waiting was becoming unbearable.

When the meal was over and the table cleared, Belwain stood and strutted around the room. He grows more cocky with each drink, Elizabeth saw, and dresses the fool.

She closed her eyes against the sight of him and wished it was possible to close her ears as well. The noise from too much drink was becoming deafening.

And then she heard it. The laugh. It was more like a screech, unusual in sound, but one she had heard before, the day of the massacre. Her eyes flew open with the recognition and she tried to find the one making the sound. There were too many blocking her view. She would find him, she would, she told herself. She stood, jarring her husband with the force, but her eyes were not on him. She continued to search the room, watching and waiting.

The sound issued again, and she found him. He stood near the archway, laughing, with a group of men. She memorized his face and sat back down. Outwardly calm, she turned to her husband and said, "By the door. He was there."

Geoffrey had turned when his wife jumped to her feet. He saw the paleness in her face, the tension in her posture. He felt like drawing his sword and standing in front of her, to protect her, but he could not. Not if they were to find proof. And so he continued to sit, keeping his expression almost bored if Belwain or any of the others should chance to notice his wife's strange behavior.

He was visually relieved when she spotted one of the attackers. He did not ask her if she was certain, for he knew she was. "Did I not tell you that your uncle was a stupid man?" he asked.

Elizabeth could not answer. She kept her eyes centered on the soldier.

"A fool would bring the very ones back into the nest," he muttered.

"He wore a mask," Elizabeth said, turning back to her husband. "But his laugh was high-pitched and unusual… and I remembered it. What will you do now?"

"I will see to it," Geoffrey answered. His tone was grim, but his words told her nothing.

"You do not answer me," Elizabeth returned. She found that tears were clouding her vision and knew that she had reached her limit of endurance. She had to dab at the corners of her eyes with the back of her hand to stop them from touching her cheeks.

Geoffrey brushed her cheek with his hand and caught one of the tears. "Do not let him see you cry. It would give him pleasure and he would smile. And then I would have to kill him, and our plans to find the other would be at an end."

Elizabeth was overwhelmed by his tender words, his gentle touch. She looked deep into his eyes, read the tenderness there, and in that instant she glimpsed the inner man, usually so well hidden behind the tough exterior.

She was about to say, "You would do this for me?" but did not, for she knew that he would. Instead she whispered, "You forget yourself, my lord. I have told you that I never cry."

She gave him the gift of her smile then, and Geoffrey felt it was the finest of all gifts he had ever received. He had to stop himself from touching her. Lately, he realized, he found himself touching her, patting her, even kissing her in front of an audience. He knew better, but when she was about, he did not seem to care. She will have me acting like a pup following her about if I do not watch myself, and my men will no longer follow me. He cleared his throat to shake his thoughts free and said, "And you forget yourself, wife. I have told you to trust me."

"I do trust you," Elizabeth said in protest, "and I honor your decisions. If I did not, Belwain would be dead by now."

Geoffrey had to smile. Her thoughts concerning her capabilities pleased him. He stood up and took hold of her elbow. "You have shown considerable courage tonight, Elizabeth, though I expected no less, you understand. Still, I would tell you I am pleased."

"So you have found something about me that pleases you?" Elizabeth remarked, agreeing to his lightened mood.

When Geoffrey admitted that what she said was true, she said, "Then perhaps, since you are so well pleased, you will tell me what you are about to do with-"

"I will tell you soon," Geoffrey interrupted. "I must see to the necessary preparations first. Now I think it is time for you to retire. The songs grow raw and your presence dampens the men's moods."

"Dampens their moods! You think I care that-"

"The ale has loosened their tongues," Geoffrey interrupted in a low voice. "And once you have gone, their talk will become more free, less guarded."

He was right, she admitted. "I will wait until you are done here," she said. "No matter how late, I will wait up for you. And then you will tell me your plans?"

"We shall see," Geoffrey stalled. He walked by her side all the way to their bedroom. She did not try to kiss him when they reached the door, and he found himself disappointed. He had grown used to her inappropriate displays, and that puzzled him. But there wasn't time to understand it. He had much to do, and before the night was done.

Elizabeth found little Thomas curled up in a ball and sound asleep in the middle of her bed.

"He calls out in his nightmares," the squire named Gerald told Elizabeth.

"Thank you for your assistance this evening, Gerald," Elizabeth said. "I did not worry knowing that you watched over my brother."

The squire blushed with her praise. He offered to carry the child to his quarters but Elizabeth told him that her grandfather or Roger would take the boy to his room.

When she was alone, she found that her hands shook. She took off her shoes and sat down on the bed to unwind her hair. Where had her grandfather disappeared to? she wondered. She had meant to ask Geoffrey if there was a reason for his absence during the dinner, but never got the chance. It was just as well that he had taken his leave, Elizabeth decided, and it was most probably his own idea. She couldn't imagine him keeping his temper around her uncle.