“Vilmar insisted I take his.” Alice darted a look at the handsome slave pounding his chisel into stone. He’d rolled up his sleeves, revealing muscles bulging with each forceful blow.
I couldn’t tear my sights away from his rippling arms. “That was generous of him.”
“He gave some of his rocks to Benedict too.”
“When?”
“When you were distracted in talking with Farthing.”
As though sensing my attention, Vilmar looked up and caught my gaze. In that instant, as earlier, I could feel his keen assessment, that he was trying to analyze me every bit as much as I was him.
He slid a glance in Curly’s direction at the forefront of the drift before focusing once again on his chisel. Curly had obviously warned Vilmar against interacting with me, which explained the rebuff earlier in the week when I’d attempted to thank him.
At times Curly’s concern was overbearing. However, I couldn’t complain, not when my friend had made sure I was safe from the wiles of any men who might find me attractive.
While I didn’t want to put Vilmar into danger from Curly, I needed to speak with him privately. Soon.
Even in late spring, the predawn air on the top of Ruby Mountain always dipped below freezing. As I waited in the shadows of the infirmary, I tried to quell my shivering, clutching my threadbare cloak around me tighter and forcing away thoughts of the thick white coat trimmed in rabbit fur I’d worn in winters past along with the leather boots lined with warm flannel. I’d had more muffs and hats than I’d known what to do with.
What I wouldn’t give to have just one of each now.
I released a soft sigh that puffed out as a frozen white cloud in the frigid air. As the daughter of the richest nobleman in Warwick, I’d taken so much of my privileged life for granted, and I regretted now that I hadn’t been more appreciative of all I once owned. It wasn’t that I’d been ungrateful. I’d simply been oblivious to how comfortable and easy my life was . . . until it had been ripped away from me.
At a slight movement near one of the men’s huts, I held myself motionless, forcing my shivering to abate. Was it Vilmar? Would he meet with me as I’d requested?
Through the sliver of moonlight, I strained to see whether anyone was coming my way. But the town was eerily still, the overseers slumbering and the night guards finishing their watch.
At the crunch of gravel behind me, I spun. A cloaked man stood close enough that he could have grabbed and muffled me if he’d been so inclined. But from the way he held himself slightly aloof, I guessed this was Vilmar even before he lowered his hood.
“My lady,” he whispered, leaving me no doubt he’d guessed my nobility. ’Twas no secret anyway. Soon after I’d arrived at the mine pits, everyone had learned the story about my fall from the duchess’s favor.
“My lord.” I let him know he couldn’t hide his nobility from me any more than I could mine from him.
I thought I detected his lips quirking up into the semblance of a smile, even as he peered past the shadows of my hood as though curious to discern more about my reason for requesting the meeting.
I pushed the hood away, letting it drop to my back and giving him full view of my countenance—or at least as much of it as was possible to see in the darkness.
I was still struck by the beauty of his eyes, so intense and yet tender. They were the kind of eyes that spoke of both pain and joy, of tribulation and laughter, of past sorrows yet promises for tomorrow.
At this close range, his strength and his power were more imposing. And yet, somehow I sensed I was as safe with him as I was with Curly.
Though he was nobility, I’d never met him in any of the social circles I was a part of when my father was alive. Of course, I’d still been too young at that time to participate fully in court life, and I’d been content to remain at home.
After Father died and the Duchess of Burgundy took over managing Rockland, I’d attended a few social events until I garnered more attention than her daughters and the duchess insisted on my absence. Even at those rare opportunities, I’d never seen him. Of that I was certain. He had a face a person would never forget.
“So, my lady.” His gaze roamed languidly, making me suddenly forget about the cold. “Ty said your request was urgent.”
As I’d climbed to the surface yesterday with our heavy loads of rocks, I managed to fall into step next to Ty during one wider stretch. I whispered to him that I needed to meet with Vilmar outside the infirmary right before the break of day. But now, for the life of me, I couldn’t remember the request.
“Well?” His voice hinted at a smile. From his tone and the ease with which he spoke, he was clearly practiced around women.
I scrambled to come up with something. “I have not had the opportunity to thank you yet.”
“Yes, that is very urgent. I can see why you needed to meet so secretly for it.”
“It is urgent. Especially since you have chosen to ignore me at every turn.”
“I’ve chosen to keep my fingers and hands from being severed by your lover.”
“Lover?” The word came out on a note of horror.
“Curly.”
“Curly is not my lover,” I hissed. “He has gallantly taken it upon himself to act as my protector. That is all.”
“He fancies himself in love with you.”
“He is no more than a friend and brother. He cares about Molly.”
“I haven’t seen him with any other woman but you.”
“Molly is still in the infirmary.”
At the rumble of voices nearby, he stiffened.
I sensed we had little time remaining, and I forced my thoughts into a semblance of coherency. “In addition to thanking you for saving me on the bridge as well as rushing to aid us yesterday, I would be grateful if you would instruct me how to . . . kill with a knife.”
His lips stalled around his response, and his eyes widened.
“I need to begin training immediately.” I swallowed the bile that formed at the thought of taking a life and forced myself to focus on the plan I’d formulated before falling asleep last night. “Today when you see me leave the main drift, you must wait two minutes and then follow.”
He shook his head, his jaw tightening.
His protest matched the protest my father would have offered if he’d been alive. In fact, my father’s voice rebuked me as it had been for the past hour: “If you give way to violence and hatred, you will only breed bitterness.” But there was no other way to eliminate Grendel. “We shall not have long to train, but every little bit will help—”
“No.” His whisper was harsh. “I refuse to train anyone to kill—”
“Would you have me remain defenseless?”
My question gave him pause. As I’d anticipated, he was an empathetic man who could be moved by plight and pity. Although I had no intention of sharing my true plans, I needed to reveal enough to convince him. “I must learn how to slay my enemy, or I myself shall most certainly perish.”
“What enemy?”
“I cannot speak the name. Nonetheless, ’tis an enemy I must face in less than two months’ time, and if I do not know how to kill him, I shall die at his hands.”
“I don’t understand.” His forehead wrinkled. “I have been in the mine but a fortnight, and already ’tis evident everyone here loves you. No one would dare harm a hair on your head, much less kill you.”