His Woman. Diana Cosby
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believing she found embarrassment in his being in Frasyer’s bedchamber. She forced herself to browse the room as if not awed by the magnificence of the plastered walls, each adorned with wall hangings of painted wool. Or how she was humbled by the intricate biblical paintings gracing the ceiling.
At the sound of muted voices from the corridor, Duncan glanced toward her. “Where do you think he hid the Bible?”
She shot a glance toward the door. “I do not know,” she whispered back. “Upon our return, I was immediately taken to the dungeon.”
“Does he have a secret room off his chamber?”
“I…”
A muscle worked in his jaw. “Well?”
“I am not sure.”
With a curse, he strode to the nearest chest. “For a woman who frequents Frasyer’s private chamber, you seem to know little of his habits.” Duncan dug through a stack of finely woven silks of magnificent reds, greens, and even the coveted blue of royalty.
Her heart pounded as she moved to kneel before another of several chests within the room. She prayed they would find the Bible soon. The longer they remained, the greater the risk of Duncan learning the truth.
Or of them being caught.
Isabel opened the lid. Wrapped within cloths, the pungent scent of ginger, cinnamon, and several other spices reached her.
“Is it there?” Duncan asked.
She shook her head as she closed the lid. “No.”
He moved to another chest. A creak sounded at her side as he opened the top. “I have an idea. Where does Frasyer keep his jewels?”
“His jewels?” She frowned as she turned toward him. “You are not going to rob him are you?”
Duncan gave a rude snort. “I want nothing of his.” His emphasis on the word nothing struck clear to her heart. “I asked where he kept his jewels, because he would perhaps keep the Bible in a place where he stows his most prized possessions.”
“We need to keep looking.”
Duncan stared at her in disbelief. At her silence, his face darkened with temper.
“I am trying to help.”
“Are you?” he demanded. “After three years as his mistress, you expect me to believe that you do not even know where Frasyer keeps his jewels?”
“There were many things I was not privileged to know.”
Duncan shot a cold look at the bed. “For the length of time you have lived here, one would think you would know where Frasyer would keep his every article of clothing, along with those things he coveted. Or perhaps, like me, he has learned you are unworthy of trust.” He turned toward her, his gaze assessing. “If so, he is wiser than I believed.”
Her cheeks burned at the insult, but she let it go. “I will not speak of my private arrangements with Frasyer to you.”
“I assure you, they are not details I wish to know.”
Isabel’s body trembled as she knelt before one of the three remaining chests they had yet to search. “We will not find the Bible by arguing.” Her ignorance of Frasyer’s private living quarters already hinted that all was not as it seemed. The longer they remained here, the more Duncan’s suspicions of why she’d become Frasyer’s mistress would grow.
“Aye, on that point I will agree.” He turned to the next chest, then stopped. Duncan braced himself against the wall, and she noticed the sheen of sweat coating his face.
Isabel stepped toward him, but his glare made her stop. She glanced to his left arm; he was favoring it. “How badly are you wounded?”
“Continue searching.”
“Please, let me—”
He brushed her aside. “Search, so we can leave this wretched place—and I of you.”
Worry tightened in her stomach. By the paleness of his face and how his body was shaking, the wound was serious, but Duncan was stubborn and wouldn’t allow her to see the extent of his injury. Not without an argument. She hurried to the next chest. Please, God, let the Bible be inside so they could leave. Once away from here, she could tend to him.
She returned to the chest. Inside lay several bolts of silk, dark reds the color of blood. Frantic, she dug deeper.
No!
She shoved aside layers of the slippery material. The Bible had to be here somewhere. What if Frasyer had taken it with him?
Or what if he had hidden it within a secret chamber? Or had burned it for pure spite?
“It is not in this room,” Duncan concluded as he sat back with a frustrated sigh, cradling his arm.
“It is!” Her nails scraped bare wood as she shoved aside the remaining bolt of silk.
Duncan leaned over and caught her arm. “Leave it.”
“Do you not understand? With the guards scouring the keep for me, Frasyer having returned, and your wound, we need to leave.” She jerked free of his hold and started unfurling another bolt of silk. “Let me search through these bolts one last time, then we will go.” Her voice rose. “Perhaps in my haste, I have overlooked it.”
“Isabel—”
A thud, then the murmur of voices in the adjoining room had them both turning toward the door.
“Frasyer!” she gasped.
A sword’s wrath! Duncan pushed to his feet and for a second, the room wavered before him. With their bloody luck this night, besides the earl, he wouldn’t be surprised to find an entire contingent of knights outside the door. “We must leave.”
Fear widened her eyes. She shook her head. “The only way out is how we came in. We must hide.”
He cursed low and fierce.
Angry footsteps echoed in the exterior chamber. “Isabel, and whoever helped her, could not have escaped,” Frasyer’s voice snarled.
Duncan smothered Isabel’s gasp with his palm, the action making him dizzy with pain.
“I want the guards to search the entire castle again!”
“Aye, my lord.” The clack of boots hurried out. A door opened, then thudded shut.
“Lad,” Frasyer said, “have a bath drawn in my chamber.”
“Yes, my lord.” Quiet steps sounded. The door scraped open and then closed.
“The fools,” Frasyer cursed, his voice growing louder.
Isabel pushed Duncan’s hand away and stepped back. “He is coming in here!”
“I can hear that for myself.” Duncan scoured the chamber for any sign of another exit. “Are you sure there is no other way out?”
“None that I am aware of.”
Why had he even bothered to ask? She hadn’t known if there was a secret passage or where Frasyer kept his jewels. Exactly what did she do here?
No, with the statuesque bed overpowering the room, her duties were all too obvious.
They must hide. Drops of sweat streaked along his cheek as Duncan bent over and lifted the blanket draping over the bed.
“Hurry,” he whispered.
Amber eyes pleaded with him as she knelt beside him. “I am sorry. I never meant for you to become involved.”
“Move!”
With one last apologetic look, she scrambled beneath the luxurious bed.
Duncan glanced toward the outer door. She was sorry? That wasn’t the half of