Edmond didn't bother to say anything. Madelyne was disappointed. How could she show the Wextons that she was a gentle maiden if they didn't give her the chance?

"Dinner will be in one hour's time, Madelyne. You may join us in the hall when Gilard comes for you."

Duncan walked out the doorway after making his announcement. Edmond, however, paused and then slowly turned around to look at Madelyne again. He seemed to be pondering some decision.

"Who is Polyphemus?"

Madelyne's eyes widened. What a strange question. "Why, he was a giant, the leader of the Cyclops in Homer's ancient tale," she answered. "Polyphemus was a horribly deformed giant with one huge eye right in the center of his forehead. He ate Odysseus's soldiers for his supper," she added with a dainty shrug of her shoulders.

Edmond didn't like her answer. "For God's sake," he muttered.

"You shouldn't be taking God's name in vain," Madelyne called out. "And why would you be asking me who Polyphemus was?"

Madelyne surmised, by the sound of fading footsteps, that Edmond wasn't going to answer her.

Yet even the rudeness of the middle brother didn't diminish Madelyne's pleasure. She bounded off the bed and let out a laugh. Lord, she was finally going to get out of this room. She did not believe for one second that the door had been unlocked all week. Duncan had told her that only to get her upset. Yes, he'd have me believe I'm dimwitted if I allowed it.

Madelyne dug through her satchel. She wished she had a pretty gown to wear and then realized the foolishness of the wish. She was their captive, for heaven's sake, not their invited guest.

It took her all of five minutes to prepare. She paced the room a long while and then walked over to the door to see how securely it was barred. With the first pull, the door opened wide, nearly knocking Madelyne down.

Duncan had obviously left the door open just to trick her. She wanted to believe that story-until she remembered that he'd left before Edmond.

Sounds floated up through the open stairway, drawing Madelyne to the landing. She leaned over the railing.

strained to hear the conversation, but the distance proved too great to catch a clear word. Madelyne finally gave up and turned back to go into her room. She spotted the long wooden slat propped against the stone wall and on impulse took hold of it and dragged it inside her bedroom. She hid the slat beneath her bed, smiling to herself over her bold action. "I just might be inclined to lock you out, Duncan, instead of letting you lock me in."

As if she could allow much of anything, she thought. Lord, she'd been confined in this room for too long a period and surely that was the pitiful reason she found such amusement in her thoughts.

Gilard did take forever to come for her. Madelyne had already jumped to the conclusion that Duncan had lied to her. He was just being cruel.

When Madelyne heard the sound of footsteps, she smiled with relief and ran over to stand next to the window. Smoothing her gown and her hair into place, she forced a tranquil expression.

Gilard wasn't frowning. That was a surprise. He looked fit this evening, attired in the color of the forest in spring. The warm green made him look handsome.

There was tenderness in his voice when he spoke. "Lady Madelyne, I would have a word with you before we go downstairs," he announced in lieu of a greeting.

Gilard gave her a worried glance, clasped his hands behind his back, and proceeded to pace a path directly in front of her.

"Adela will probably join the family; She knows you're here and she-"

"Is unhappy?"

"Aye, though more than just unhappy. She hasn't said anything, but the look in her eyes makes me uneasy."

"Why are you telling me this?" Madelyne asked.

"Why, I tell you because I felt I owed you an explanation so that you could prepare yourself."

"Why are you concerned? You've obviously done a turnaround in your opinion of me. Is it because I helped you during the battle against my brother?"

"Well, of course," Gilard stammered.

"It's a sorry reason," Madelyne told him.

"You're sorry you saved my life?" Gilard asked.

"You misunderstand, Gilard. I'm sorry I was forced to take another man's life in order to aid you," she explained. "I'm not sorry I was able to help you though."

"Lady Madelyne, you contradict yourself," Gilard told her. He was frowning and looking confused.

He couldn't possibly understand. He was just too much like his brother. Aye, like Duncan, Gilard was used to killing, she supposed, and he'd never comprehend the shame she felt over her behavior. Lord, he probably viewed her aid as heroic. "I think I'd prefer you had found something good in me and that was the reason you've changed your opinion."

"I don't understand you," Gilard remarked, shrugging his shoulders.

"I know." The words were said so sadly Gilard felt like comforting her.

"You're an unusual woman."

"I try not to be. It is difficult, though, when you consider my past."

"I give you a compliment when I tell you I think you're unusual," Gilard returned, smiling over the worry he'd caught in her voice. Did she think unusual meant a flaw of some sort, he wondered.

He shook his head and then turned and led the way down the stairs, explaining as he went that if she slipped, she was to grab hold of his shoulders for support. The steps were wet, slick in spots.

Gilard kept up a steady monologue, but Madelyne was too nervous to listen to him. She was a bundle of worry inside over the possibility of meeting Adela.

When they reached the entrance to the hall, Gilard moved to her side. He offered her his arm. Madelyne denied the gallant gesture, concerned that Gilard's change of heart might not sit well with his brothers.

With a small shake of her head Madelyne folded her hands in front of her and turned her attention to the hall. Lord, it was gigantic in proportions, with a stone hearth taking up a fair portion of the wall facing her. To the right of the fireplace, yet some distance away, was a massive table, long enough to sit at least twenty. The table squatted atop a wooden platform. Scarred stools lined the length on both sides, some upright, more overturned.

A rather peculiar odor reached Madelyne, and she wrinkled her nose in response. She took a good look around her then and immediately spotted the cause. The rushes littering the floor were mottled with age. Why, they were ripe with stateness. A fire blazed in the hearth, heating the stench, and if that wasn't enough to turn a stomach, a dozen or so dogs added their own unwashed scent as they slept against each other in a contented pile in the center of the room.

Madelyne was appalled by the mess, but she was determined to keep her thoughts to herself. If the Wextons wished to live like animals, so be it. She certainly didn't care.

When Gilard nudged her, Madelyne started to walk toward the platform. Edmond was already seated at the table, his back to the wall behind him. The middle brother was watching her. He looked as if he were brooding over something. He tried to look right through her, just as she pretended to act unconcerned.

Once she and Gilard had taken their places at the table, soldiers of diverse rank and size filed into the room. They took up the remaining stools, save for the one at the head of the table, adjacent to Madelyne. She assumed the empty chair belonged to Duncan, for he was head of the Wexton clan.

Madelyne was about to ask Gilard when Duncan was going to join them, when Edmond 's voice rang out. "Gerty!"

The bellow washed away Madelyne's question. The shout was promptly answered by a loud response, coming from the buttery to the right. "We hear you."

Gerty appeared then, juggling a stack of empty trenchers on one arm and a large platter of meat on the other. Two other serving girls followed in Gerry's wake, carrying additional platters, all brimming with food. A third servant appeared, ending the procession, with crusty loaves of bread in her hands and tucked under her arms.