Unexpected Pleasures by Mary Wine

see them struggling in the tight confines of the narrow hallway. The harsh sounds of struggle filled the stone-lined walls as the two men tried to kill each other. Their bodies strained but the close confines prevented them from doing more than wrestle. Synclair pushed de Canis back, sliding the man’s boots across the floor until they reached the doorway that led to the reception room. With a harsh growl of satisfaction, Synclair threw de Canis into the room, startling the parrot.
    The music died abruptly and the assembled guests looked around to discover the cause. De Canis recovered quickly and dove at Synclair with a curse spilling from his lips. The knight drew back his arm and landed a solid punch directly on de Canis’s face that sent the man spinning into the men who rushed forward. They grabbed him, struggling with him when the man tried to continue the fight.
    â€œI’ll see you rotting in an early grave, Harrow! Baron or not, I’m going to rip your throat out with my own hands!” De Canis struggled violently against the arms holding him, rage glittering in his eyes.
    â€œI am your man, de Canis! This world will be well rid of your brand of filth.”
    Synclair looked as if he meant to continue the fight, but the Earl of Hertford stepped in front of him, placing a hand flat against his chest. The earl leaned in to whisper something near Synclair’s ear and the assembled guests all leaned forward to attempt to hear what it was.
    Synclair snarled at the earl but the man lifted his hand and looked at the musicians.
    â€œPlay!” He turned his head and looked at a groom. “Bring the meal!”
    There was a scurry as everyone tried to please the earl. He swept the nobles nearest to Synclair with a hard look that sent them all back across the room.
    â€œFrancis de Canis, I believe it best if you retire for the evening. It appears that my friends do not please you.”
    De Canis shrugged off the men around him and tugged on his doublet to straighten it. His lips curled into a sneer, without a care for the high position of the earl. Being asked to leave was a public set down, one the assembled guests did not miss. Whispers began to ripple through the crowd instantly.
    â€œNo, your lordship, I do not care for that one.”
    Soft hands cupped her shoulders, startling Justina. An older maid gently pulled her back.
    â€œCome away, ma’am, you have blood upon your lip. It will ruin your gown if we don’t tend to it.”
    Still far enough back in the hallway to avoid being seen, Justina saw the wisdom in the maid’s suggestion. She allowed herself to be guided away from where Synclair and the earl spoke in lowered tones. But the stone walls pressed in on her, making her feel as if it were impossible to draw a complete breath. Her lungs burned and she fought against the urge to scream with all of the tension trapped inside her. Every muscle felt tight enough to snap and her blood was rushing so quickly through her veins, keeping to an even pace became impossible.
    â€œI’ll see to it myself, thank you.”
    Justina didn’t spare more than a quick glance for the maid. She plucked a piece of cloth that was tucked through the woman’s apron tie before she quickened her pace and turned the corner. She didn’t know where she was going, only that she couldn’t remain inside without going mad.
    The corridors were made of thick stone and Justina hurried through them because it felt like they were pressing in on her. She finally made it outside and leaned over a half wall to pull in large breaths to feed her burning lungs. She pressed the fabric to her mouth and felt her eyes widen when it came away stained with crimson. Emotions assaulted her—fear, anger, pain, and too many others to comprehend. The air was bitterly cold and she looked across the yard to see that snow was gently falling. It wasn’t melting now that the sun was sinking on the