Read Online Love Thine Enemy by Carolyne Cathey - Free Book Online Page A

you think you gain the land, but what do you mean, the
rightful heir?  And what, or who, is the Unholy Trinity?"
    Black fury sparked in his eyes.  "Two decades
past, Reynaurd, Gaston, and a demon I have yet to identify, falsely accused my
father, the true Sire de DuBois, of heresy."
    "Not false accusations, Lady Rochelle." 
Gaston staggered, then braced his bloodied hand against the wall, streaking a
crimson stain.  "Alberre confessed."
    "My father broke under the tortures of the
Inquisition.  To cease the atrocities he swore a lie as truth."
    Gaston's lips curled in a sneer.  "Devil
worship." 
    The gasp leapt from Rochelle's throat before she could
stop the damning reaction.  Becket threw her a glare that told her he had added
her to his list of enemies.  She shuddered, feeling as if the Grim Reaper
stroked her flesh in anticipation of her death. 
    "When the Inquisition insisted my father name
others---the only accepted proof of his salvation---he recanted his forced
confession."
    Gaston laughed, then jerked in a cough.  "No one
believed his screams of innocence as the flames melted his flesh.  If he had
been pure of soul he wouldn't have died in the fire.  The angels would have
cooled the heat like with Meshach, Shadrach and Abednego in the fiery
furnace."
    Becket swung the tip of his sword in a slow arc in
front of Gaston's eyes.  "If purity of soul is a requirement, Gaston,
you'll burn the brightest of any of Satan's human torches."  Crystal
crunched beneath Becket's feet as he prowled toward his enemy.  “Now tell me. 
Who is the third devil in this satanic bargain?"
    Gaston lunged and slashed.  Becket feinted, then
thrust.  Gaston cried out and stumbled backward, falling over the chalice. 
Becket stomped on Gaston's sword hand and jabbed his weapon at Gaston's throat;
blood oozing red around the tip. 
    "Roast in hell, Gaston.  Moreau and DuBois are
mine.” 
    Rochelle pushed away from the bed.  "You steal
Gaston's land, as well?  Does your greed have no bounds?"
    Becket released a sigh of impatience.  "Reynaurd
and Gaston divided the estate.  Reynaurd stole DuBois.  Gaston claimed
Moreau."
    Clamminess slithered over Rochelle's flesh.  If
Becket's claims were true, then she had no inheritance, nothing.  And because
of the vows, the falsely-stained sheet, and Becket's claim as heir, he
possessed DuBois whether she lived or died.  He had no more use for her.  The
realization fired ice through her veins.
    What would happen to Pierre? 
    Rochelle whirled to her father. “Mon père , does he speak true?  Did you steal DuBois from his father?"
    Tears seeped from beneath his lashes like liquid
regret.  She didn't want to believe he had committed such evil.  And yet, she knew
him capable.  Her hopes and fears tangled in a sour lump within her stomach. 
She reached out for his hand, then hesitated, anger and resentment warring with
her craving for his acceptance, his love.  
    " Mon père, deny the accusation. Tell me he lies."
    He answered with spasms of coughs and more tears.
    " Non!   I will not allow you to escape an
answer."  Rochelle snatched a tankard from atop the chest beside the bed
and pressed the rim to her father's blue lips.  He swallowed and his coughs
lessened, but she couldn't even force herself to wipe the dribbles from his
mouth.
    "Tell me, is Lord Becket's claim true?"
    He gasped and clutched his throat, his eyes wide with
fear and pain.  "Poisoned!  Poison!"
    Shaken from her anger, she grabbed for his arm, but he
thrashed on the bed and moaned in horrid agony. 
    "The pain!"  He pointed his finger as if in
accusation, his arm wavering too much to settle on one person.  "I trusted
you . . . ."  He strangled and reached out for her.  "Rochelle."
    " Mon père!"   The finality of his last
breath ripped an unexpected void within her heart and she grasped his hand,
tempted to beg his forgiveness for all her unwitting sins, to beg for his love.
Tears burned her