“But then I’ll not have my shield.”

She smiled with fierce satisfaction. “No.”

His lips quirked, but he did not smile in turn. “Done. I think I can protect myself from one small girl. Drop your weapon.”

She hesitated and then dropped the candelabra.

“Good. Your promise?”

She had hoped he would not demand the words. “I promise,” she said grudgingly, and then quickly added, “if I see no danger to Alex.”

He set the little boy on his feet. “There’s no danger here for the boy.”

There was danger everywhere, and she must be prepared to face it. She turned to Alex. “Go to the garden and wait for me there.”

“I don’t want to go.”

She didn’t want Alex to go either. The night was cold and he was ill and she did not know how long this Englishman would keep her here. But there was no choice. Alex had to be sent out of harm’s way. She took off her wool shawl and wrapped it around him. “But you must.” She gave him a gentle push. “I’ll be with you soon.”

He started to protest, but when he met her gaze, he turned and ran toward the small door to the left of the altar.

She was alone with him. Mama. What if he hurt her the way they had hurt her mother? Fear closed around her heart, robbing her of breath, freezing her blood as she turned to face him.

You sent away my hostage,” he said mockingly. He set one of the candelabras upright, found the candle he had dropped, and relit it. “It makes me feel exceptionally insecure. I don’t know if I can tolerate-Why the devil are you shaking like that?”

“I’m not.” Her eyes shimmered with defiance. “I’m not afraid.”

He could see that she was more than afraid; she was terrified. It was probably good that she feared him; fear would produce answers, but for some inexplicable reason he felt the need to save her pride. “I didn’t say you were. It must be the cold. You gave the boy your shawl.” He took off his cloak. “Come here and let me put this around you.”