De Wolfe Pack 05 - Walls of Babylon (7 page)

Frowning at dirty boots on her mattress, which wasn’t so much her mattress any longer, she tiptoed inside the chamber and headed for the bed. The old wooden floors creaked now and again and she froze every time one let out a squealing noise, watching the bed to see if the sound had awakened le Bec. He must have been a very sound sleeper because, so far, nothing seemed to have disturbed him. Encouraged, Nicola closed the gap between her and the bed and went to her knees, peering underneath it in search of her items.

There was still some clutter underneath the bed but she saw the basket she was looking for on the other side. Her arm wasn’t long enough to reach it. Still on her knees, she crawled around the bed to the other side, hoping to grab her basket and flee before le Bec realized she was in the room and tried to kill her because he thought she was an intruder. The floor was still creaking a bit but she ignored it. It was impossible for the floor not to creak so she simply tried to be careful about it. Just as she neared the basket, as it was within her grasp, a hand from the bed shot out and grabbed her.

“You are a lovely wench,” the voice said. It was
not
le Bec. “Did Kenton send you to me? Good man. Come here and warm me.”

Startled, not to mention terrified, Nicola smacked the man’s hand as he grabbed her rather brutally. He yanked at her, pulling her halfway onto the bed, but she threw out a fist and shoved it into the man’s face, still half-covered by the coverlet. The man grunted and loosened his hold, enough so that she was able to pull away, but it wasn’t enough to run completely. He grabbed her again, more forcefully, and Nicola was rightly panicked.

The old, iron fire poker was next to the bed where Tab had left it. He had been playing with it earlier when they had all been in the chamber, removing items, and she had forced him to set it aside. She didn’t allow her boys to play with sharp things even though Tab had an affinity for them. He’d proven that many times, most recently with the sword that had impaled his father. With the iron poker in arm’s length, she swiped at it even as the man pulled at her, getting a grip on the pointed end of it. As the man pulled her onto the bed again, she took hold of the poker and brought it down on the body still buried within the blanket.

The man grunted again as she brought the poker down, twice, before he finally let her go. Seized with panic, Nicola beat the man soundly as he lay wrapped up in the coverlet, racing all around the bed from every angle, whacking at him with all her strength. The man protested vehemently and at one point, tossed the cover off his head so he could try to get hold of the poker, but Nicola whacked him on the knees and he howled, trying to protect his legs.

“You… you beast!” she cried angrily. “You
fiend
! How dare you grab for me! I am not a whore!”

The man roared. “Woman, cease your battle!”

Nicola was furious as well as frightened. She hit him one last time, on the thigh near his buttocks, and backed away from the bed with the poker wielded in front of her defensively. She backed up towards the door.

“Touch me again and this is only a foretaste of what is to come,” she hissed, grabbing at the door latch and throwing it open. “You have been warned!”

With that, Nicola fled the room, having no idea who she had just thrashed. When Kenton came up later to discuss a few items with Warwick, he was astonished to hear the man describe his violent encounter with a woman who beat him soundly with a fire poker.

Warwick was laughing as he told the story, but Kenton was not laughing; based on Warwick’s description of the beautiful, volatile woman, Kenton knew it could only be one person. He only knew of one woman at Babylon with enough bravery and foolishness to do such a thing. He was embarrassed as well as furious, convinced that Lady Thorne had purposely sought Warwick to issue her own particular brand of rebellion against him.

When Warwick finished his tale, snorting and giggling, Kenton had all he could take. He was going to put that woman over his knee and spank her into submission as he should have done the first time they met. Obviously, the vault did little good to quell her rebellion. He would see if his hand to her backside would.

Politely excusing himself, he made his way up to the fourth floor.

Nicola was dozing in a big chair with Teague lying across her lap and Tiernan sleeping upon her shoulder. After fleeing her former chamber and the wicked man who now slept there, it had taken her a while to calm her fright. She kept thinking of that terrible man, and of how he had grabbed her, trying not to think of what would have happened had she not broken away. Perhaps le Bec had a very valid reason for telling her to stay to her apartments and it hadn’t merely been because he was a cruel captor. Perhaps it had been for her own safety. That hadn’t really occurred to her until now.

Feeling rather sheepish, she had finally settled down in the nearest chair, taking a cup of stale wine from Janet to help calm her nerves, but the twins were upset and restless, so she had turned her focus to them in the hopes of settling them down. She eventually calmed, they calmed, and the boys finally fell asleep. Exhausted from a night of very little sleep herself, Nicola closed her eyes and dozed off right along with them.

Until the door to her chamber flew open and le Bec was standing there in all of his hulking glory. Startled by the servants’ cry when the door slammed back, Nicola sat up so fast that she nearly dumped Teague onto the floor. She grabbed both boys to make sure they didn’t fall as she looked up at le Bec, wide-eyed with surprise.

“My lord!” she gasped. “What is the….?”

He didn’t let her finish. He took three massive steps over to her and picked up Tiernan from her shoulder, extending the now-squealing child to the nearest frightened servant.

“A word, Madam,” he said as he then reached down to pick up Teague, who was taken quickly by Janet. “You will come with me.”

With both children off of her, Kenton grasped Nicola by the arm and pulled her up from the chair, practically dragging her across the chamber and slamming the door. Nicola, now being pulled down the steep stairs behind him, tried to catch herself from falling but it was difficult when he was tugging so forcefully.

“What on earth is the matter?” she demanded. “Stop pulling me!”

Kenton ignored her as he dragged her down to the third level. Nearing the bottom of the steps, she slipped in her struggles and plowed right into the back of him. Kenton had hold of her enough so that she didn’t fall, but when they reached the landing, she began to fight ferociously.

“Let go!” she demanded, smacking at his hand. “By what right do you treat me like this? You will release me immediately!”

Kenton didn’t say a word. He utterly ignored her demands and the hand that was hitting his wrist as he pulled her into the chamber that used to belong to her children. Once inside the smaller chamber that was oddly vacant and quite dusty, he shut the chamber door and released her. Nicola stumbled away from him, furious, and ended up on the opposite side of the chamber. Torn between fear and outrage, she glared at him.

“Why did you do that?” she hissed.

Kenton faced Nicola with more patience than he felt. He wasn’t entirely used to losing his temper, at least not with a woman, so he struggled to calm the rage that was burning in his chest. He would tell her why he had dragged her down to this chamber before he blistered her undoubtedly lovely backside. But first, he had to try to explain his position without yelling at her. It was a difficult struggle.

“You,” he said, pointing a finger at her, “are very close to being put into the vault permanently. Did you think I would not be told of your actions?”

Nicola was now confused as well as furious. “What actions?” she asked. “What are you babbling about, le Bec?”

Kenton’s eyebrows lifted. “Babbling, am I?” he said, his jaw ticking as he came one step closer to losing his temper. He might even wring her lovely little neck if he was angry enough. “Did you truly believe your actions against Warwick would go untold?”

Her sense of confusion grew. “Warwick?” she repeated. “What do you mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean. Did you think I would not find out what you did to him?”

“But I have never met the man!”

“You will not lie to me.”

Nicola threw up her hands, bewildered. “I am not lying,” she said. “I swear that I have not met the man!”

His eyes narrowed and he jabbed a big finger at her again. “You beat him with a fire poker,” he said hotly. “He has shown me his bruises and even though he could not tell me the name of the woman who did it, the physical description was enough. It was
you
.”

Suddenly, Nicola realized what he was talking about.
The evil man in her chamber!
The entire incident came flooding back and, now, things made a good deal of sense. Exasperated, she shook her head.

“I did not know that was Warwick,” she insisted. “I have never met the man. How could I know it was him?”

There was some logic to that statement but Kenton didn’t acknowledge it. He rested his big fists on his hips in a gesture that just preceded him running across the room, grabbing her, and spanking her until he had satisfaction. He was already figuring out how he could cut off her escape route.

“Then if you did not know it was him, why did you beat him?” he wanted to know. “You deliberately set out to thrash the man.”

“I did not!”

It was Kenton’s turn to throw his hands up in the air. “Your actions speak otherwise, Madam,” he said. “Know that I intend to punish you so it would be wise for you to tell me the truth.”

Nicola didn’t want to go to the vault again. She moved away from him, preparing for the mad dash that would undoubtedly follow when he began to chase her around the room.

“I swear to you that I did not know it was Warwick,” she insisted, now less angry and more frightened. “I was in the chamber for a very good reason – after moving all of my possessions up to the fourth level, I realized I had left something very important behind. Upon entering the chamber, I saw that someone was asleep on the bed and assumed it was you, so I was very quiet as I made my way to the bed so I could look underneath it for the basket I had left behind. As I looked underneath, the man in the bed grabbed me and called me a whore. He wanted me to warm his bed. So… so I hit him. I will not be taken for a whore, le Bec, not by anyone. I am within my right to defend myself.”

Kenton was listening with some astonishment to the entire explanation. It was nearly exactly what Warwick had told him and, as much as he hated to admit it, he believed her. He was quite sure she would not know Warwick on sight and quite sure that the woman, although cunning and intelligent, would not lie to him. She’d proven that when she had shown him Gaylord’s tomb. He didn’t want to believe her; for all of the frustration and embarrassment she had caused him, he truly wanted to punish her. There was great satisfaction in that thought. But the fact remained that he did, indeed, believe her. An exasperated sigh escaped his lips and he hung his head, shaking it sorrowfully.

“God’s Blood,” he hissed. “Is it true? Did you truly go in there without the intent to beat him?”

Nicola nodded her head. “Why would I do such a thing?” she asked, hoping he believed her. “Why would I risk being put back in the vault again?”

Kenton shook his head. “I would not know this,” he said flatly. “You have challenged me from the moment I set foot in Babylon, so I cannot pretend to anticipate anything you do. You seem to take delight in pushing me.”

Nicola’s expression was guarded. “And you seem to take delight in pushing me.”

He looked at her, then. “I do not push, Madam,” he said. “I mean everything I say. My words are not meant as suggestions or hints. They are meant to be obeyed without question.”

Nicola didn’t know what to say to that. The fury of the situation had thankfully blown over but she was still very uncertain as to his motives or what he planned to do. When she didn’t reply, he lifted his eyebrows expectantly at her.

“Have you nothing to say to me?” he asked.

Nicola shook her head but she was feeling increasingly incensed by the way he was treating her. The man was big and powerful, and he used that size and power against her. She did, in fact, have something to say.

“You had no reason to drag me down here as you did before you knew all of the facts,” she said, sounding hurt and angry. “I was, in fact, Warwick’s victim, yet you treated me as if I had been the attacker. Your sense of justice is twisted, le Bec. Is this your idea of fairness?”