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“After you feed me,” Ian murmured, “we’ve some catching up to do.” His gaze dragged over her with vile familiarity. “I could use a good fuck after all I’ve endured. And though you were a pitiful wife, Davina, you were always a good fuck.”

He hitched Cailin higher on his hip, cooing mockingly at the weeping babe. As he backed toward the door, he stroked the blade along Cailin’s wet cheek, his caress a threat veiled in softness.

“Try anything, Davina.” He grinned. “Idareyou.”

With his poisonous smile, he turned and strode from the Great Hall, leaving Davina rooted in place, trembling with barely leashed rage and bone-deep terror.

She pressed her fists hard against her eyes, swallowing the scream clawing to escape her throat. Her chest heaved, lungs burning with the effort to master her rising panic. She could not break. Not now. Not when Cailin’s life hung by the thinnest thread.

Drawing a deep, shuddering breath, she straightened her spine, forcing steel into her trembling limbs. With a thumping heart, she marched into the kitchen.

The staff huddled together, faces pale and streaked with tears. Myrna clutched Lilias tightly, the elder woman’s quiet sobs muffled against her handmaid’s shoulder.

Davina’s gaze swept over them, her voice emerging with iron beneath the quake as she gave them Ian’s orders. “Prepare the tray. And keep your courage. For my child’s sake, we must endure this.”

She paused, her gaze sweeping the faces of the staff, pale and tear-streaked yet holding tight to slivers of resolve. “I don’t want anyone else near him to give him any more leverage than what he already has.”

The servants nodded, hands trembling as they turned to their tasks. Despite fear knotting their bellies, they moved with grim determination, their motions swift and precise.

Crossing the room, Davina knelt beside Myrna and Lilias, who huddled close together. Her mother’s shoulders still shook, though her sobs had quieted to fragile breaths. Myrna’s eyes, red-rimmed and brimming with worry, met Davina’s with unspoken dread.

Leaning in, Davina kept her voice low and urgent. “I can’t act while he’s holding Cailin,” she said, swallowing the knot rising in her throat. “But he can’t force himself on meandhold the bairn at the same time.”

Lilias’s eyes flew wide, fresh tears spilling down her weathered cheeks. “Davina, nay—”

Davina pressed a finger gently to her mother’s lips, silencing her. “He’ll have to put her down eventually,” she continued, keeping her tone iron clad. “When he does, I’ll coax him intoleaving her in the nursery—or into one of your arms. The moment she’s free, get her out.”

“Out of the castle?” Myrna whispered, her voice trembling.

“Aye.” Davina’s eyes hardened with resolve. “Take the back passage. Get her quiet and away as fast as you can. Take the entire household with you. Bring the guards. I want you all gone.”

Myrna shook her head, lips quivering. “But…what about you, lass? Cailin needs her mither. You can’t—”

“I’ll manage Ian,” Davina cut in steadier than she felt inside.

Lilias clutched her arm, panic written across every line of her face. “Manage him how? Davina, you can’t mean to sacrifice yourself! He’ll kill you when he finds the house empty!”

Davina pulled her arm free, her jaw tightening. “I’m not dying tonight. I have a plan.”

“What?” Lilias demanded, her voice rising with frantic desperation.

Davina grabbed her mother’s shoulders, her gaze cold and unyielding as forged iron. “Don’t ask questions you don’t want answers to.”

Lilias’s mouth opened as if to protest, but the words died on her tongue. She pressed a trembling hand to her lips, her wide eyes brimming with fresh tears.

Myrna’s anxious gaze flicked to the staff, who worked feverishly to prepare the tray. She leaned closer to Davina, her voice a rasping whisper. “You don’t have to do this alone, child.”

Davina was about to protest but Broderick’s remembered words changed her mind. “Stay close, Myrna. Hover outside the bedchamber and listen close. Be ready for when I talk Ian into letting the baby go. I want you to get Cailin out. That’s all I care about. By any means necessary. Do you understand me?”

Myrna gave a tight, solemn nod, her lips pressed into a grim line of determination.

The finished tray lay on the prep table—dried meats, fruit, bread, and a small dish of butter with a small wooden paddle. Beatrice set the wine and chunks of cheese to join them.

Davina lifted the tray, settled the weight into her palms, and gave her mother and Myrna one last look and nod.

Myrna swallowed hard and dipped her head in response, her face pale but resolute. Lilias clung to Myrna’s arm, her tears falling freely, her expression crumpled with helpless dread.

Davina stepped away from them, balancing the tray as she backed through the serving room, then into the Great Hall where she crossed toward the foyer. Her heartbeat thundered in her chest, but her stride did not falter.