Page 31 of A Dark and Stormy Knight (A Knight’s Tale #3)
W hen the doors opened, Wallace stood, only to see the last person he ever wished to lay eyes on, coming down the stairs.
Lord Paul Dinsdale, sycophant, coward, murderer.
Though he tried to control it, Wallace could feel the lines of his face tighten, his mouth curling into a bitter grimace. “What do you do here?”
Dinsdale, still muscular, his dark hair fading to gray, wore a fine tunic and cape and carried a cane. He chuckled. “Why, partaking of the entertainment on offer. I could think of no better amusement than to come down here and see for myself the caged cub.”
Wallace’s hand curled around one of the bars and closed tight until his hand turned white. He willed the other man to come closer, so he could strangle the life from him in much the same manner.
And why not? If it would free his family from this cursed man’s conniving. Mayhap the king did intend to see him hanged for the offense of truth. If so, he might as well die for a just cause.
But, Dinsdale didn’t come closer; instead, he paced a short distance, glancing about the dungeon, and its implements, with a small smile upon his lips.
It tugged at his scar.
It was easy to see he imagined the weapons of torture used against Wallace.
He controlled his expression, affecting a bored demeanor, unwilling to let the man get to him.
He released the bar and took a step back, crossing his arms and widening his stance.
Dinsdale faced him, his gaze raking up and down. “Wallace,” he said, insulting him by refusing to use his title. “You are so much like your father that I find it unpleasant to look upon you.”
“Then leave, and spare yourself the sight of me.”
Dinsdale gave a slight shrug. “Your father could only be killed once, and I found that the swiftness of his death left me feeling ... unsatisfied.”
As if his father had also been a mere amusement. One that failed to entertain.
It took everything within him to hold, to keep from lunging through the bars to grasp the other man.
If he would just come closer.
He tried to hold his tongue, to deny Dinsdale any satisfaction, but the words flew from him. “You murdered my father. You poisoned him beforehand, and left him unable to defend himself.”
Dinsdale’s lips quirked, and he shrugged. “So say you.”
Wallace’s jaw clenched and he could feel heat rising up his neck, and loathed showing the man any emotion whatsoever.
Dinsdale glanced at the empty tray Wallace had eaten from earlier. He glanced back at Wallace, his gaze sly and suggestive. “Enjoyed thy meal, did you?”
Wallace’s insides chilled, as he took the man’s meaning. “You threaten me with poison?”
Dinsdale laughed. “Again, you rant like a madman, seeing plots where none exist.”
Wallace could practically feel satisfaction oozing off the other man. He thought he’d won, yet again, and indeed, from where they both stood, it looked as if he had.
But that left Wallace with naught to lose by killing the other man, exacting his vengeance, and keeping his family safe.
If that was the only road open to him, Wallace would take it, and endure an eternity in hell, rather than leave this world knowing this man and his plots endangered those he loved.
Dinsdale laughed again. “Look at you. All simmering rage, and impotent to do aught with it. I understand your betrothed lost a fortune in jewels while she slept. Were you not in the tent with her as well? Can you keep nothing? Not your titles, your property, or even your lady’s jewelry it seems. Whatever you own seems to slip through your fingers, does it not?”
He would not give Dinsdale the satisfaction of asking if he’d taken it.
Favian came to the small window often, kept him informed and ran any errands Wallace asked of him. He had considered sending the boy to search his room, to see what he could find, but in the end could not risk his charge when he was unable to offer his protection.
Wallace scoffed, and shrugged his disbelief. “Easy to imply you have the piece when everyone knows it is missing. You will not catch me falling for such tripe.”
Now it was Dinsdale’s face turning red, his color rising hot, and Wallace felt like he had a little of his own back. Now, to take the man over the edge.
He grasped the bars loosely in his hands, gaining even more satisfaction when Dinsdale took a step back.
The other man’s chin lifted, and Wallace could see the clear regret that he’d given ground.
“Do not think for a moment that I do not understand what this is all about.”
“What are you saying?”
“Lady Helena. She married my father, and you have been pathetically obsessed with a woman you can never have, ever since.”
Wallace gave a snort. “You yap at her heels, as if hoping for a kick when you can have naught else.”
Emotion struggled on the older man’s face.
“It is said thy lady wife drinks like a sot, while my own mother is strong-willed, could rule as well as any man, and has a backbone made of pure, solid steel.”
Wallace shook his head. “Sir Rupert must take after his mother the same way that I take after mine.”
Dinsdale surged forward to strike Wallace’s hands with his cane, and Wallace reached through the bars to grasp the other man’s head and slam him forward into the sturdy iron.
Dinsdale fell to the ground and rolled away, even as Wallace tried to retain his grip, tearing at clothing, reaching and grasping even as the other man escaped.
Panting, covered in grime and hay, Dinsdale slowly rose to his feet, a red marks darkening his forehead.
Wallace stayed on the ground, letting the other man see the satisfaction on his face, hoping to goad him yet again.
Dinsdale was breathing hard as he brushed off his cape and tunic, straightening his belt. “They say a female never forgets her first love. I wonder how often your mother yearned for me when she was with another.”
Wallace schooled his face to blankness.
Dinsdale gave his cape one last swipe, then picked up his cane and placed both hands on its grip. “The king has agreed that the Lady Amelia is to marry my son, Sir Rupert. Let your mother know our lines will finally merge. She might be quite pleased.”
Using the bars, Wallace heaved himself upward, “Nay, I forbid it! We will not carry the taint of gutless weakness and cowardice in our line, and she certainly will not marry into the family that murdered her father!”
Dinsdale openly gloated. “’Prepare yourself. The king has given his blessing, and considered the idea a sound one. The Wolfsbane properties will carry Wolfsbane blood in the future, and the matter is settled.”
Wallace hit the bars with an open palm, making them tremble. “I will see you dead first!”
Dinsdale laughed with open contempt. “Who knows, it might amuse me to give your sister a pretty necklace as a bridal gift from her doting new father. Or perhaps I will wait until she’s gifted me a Dinsdale grandson.”
Wallace struck the bars again with impotent rage. “You admit you stole it?”
Dinsdale turned and walked up the stairs, his back to Wallace an insult.
Without so much as glancing around, he said, “And as for seeing me dead, I sincerely doubt you shall ever get the chance.”
“I will kill you!” Wallace said violently, as Dinsdale left the dungeon, the doors closing behind him.
He’d never felt so helpless in his life.