Word and Deed

Word and Deed

By Rachel Rossano

Published by Rachel Rossano at Smashwords

ISBN: 978-1-4661-8594-4

Copyright 2012 Rachel Rossano

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form without the prior written permission of the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a newspaper, magazine, or journal.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Word and Deed is a work of fiction. Though actual locations may be mentioned, they are used in a fictitious manner and the events and occurrences were invented in the mind and imagination of the author. Similarities of characters to any person, past, present, or future, are coincidental.

Cover by Rachel Rossano

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Chapter One

You are weak, Verdon. You kill like a woman! I glared at my half-brother.

His narrow shoulders tensed. A hush fell over our late father’s great hall. The dog lying before the hearth groaned loudly.

Sick with anger and helplessness, I gloried in his reaction. He condemned me to a living death, marriage to a man some considered unsettled. Still I could evoke fire in my frigid sibling. I knew his soft places where the words would sting most. Rage prodded me on.

Your mother would writhe in her grave if she saw the slovenly murderer she brought forth. It would be better for her if you never lived.

Hush, Verity, hush. My old nurse’s hands trembled where they gripped my arm. Ealdine served more as a companion now that I reached adulthood.

She had good reason to cower. My cheek still stung from Verdon’s last loss of composure. Wisdom urged me to let go of the burning emotion in my gut. Yet the anger demanded I rant or sob.

I refused to give Verdon the satisfaction of tears.

His fingers closed on the hilt of our father’s sword. My sword. Our father promised it to me, yet Verdon refused me even that. I unleashed the final blow.

Our father would rise up and call you coward for this act. Selling me to a mad man will not silence my tongue.

The impact of his fist snapped my head back. I welcomed the pain. It grounded the anger, distracting me from the agony in my chest that began with our father’s death. The grief ached with every breath those moments I missed him most. I was helpless without Father’s protection, a fact never more clear than now.

Another blow, this time behind my right ear, rocked my sense of the earth. The crack of my skull on the stone echoed, preceding searing pain. A fog blanketed my senses. The hand I lifted to my scalp came away red.

Foolish move, Ravenridge. Sir Hirion’s face wavered above me. I blinked, but he remained out of focus. Lord Silvaticus paid for a living bride, not a corpse. If you wish to remain in Silvaticus’ favor, she should be well and whole when he arrives.

"A fortnight is time enough for her to heal. I have not left a lasting mark on her features,