To-day Peter came to
me with the clear intent to make a quarrel. He affronted me as no man
has ever dared."
She cried out at that, her already great alarm redoubled. He smiled.
Do not suppose that I could harm him. He is your brother, and, so,
sacred to me. He came to tell me that no betrothal was possible
between us, forbade me ever again to visit Godolphin Court, dubbed me
pirate and vampire to my face and reviled my father's memory. I
tracked the evil of all this to its source in Killigrew, and rode
straight to Arwenack to dam that source of falsehood for all time. I
did not accomplish quite so much as I intended. You see, I am frank,
my Rose. It may be that Sir John will live; if so I hope that he may
profit by this lesson. I have come straight to you," he concluded,
"that you may hear the tale from me before another comes to malign me
with false stories of this happening."
"You...you mean Peter?" she cried.
"Alas!" he sighed.
She sat very still and white, looking straight before her and not at
all at Sir Oliver. At length she spoke.
"I am not skilled in reading men," she said in a sad, small voice.
"How should I be, that am but a maid who has led a cloistered life. I
was told of you that you were violent and passionate, a man of bitter
enmities, easily stirred to hatreds, cruel and ruthless in the
persecution of them."
"You, too, have been listening to Sir John," he muttered, and laughed
shortly.
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