Free Malcolm'S Honor (Historical, 519) by Jillian Hart Page A

one, not even Malcolm the Fierce, could call her a coward.
    She set her chin and stepped forward. “Your highness—”
    â€œDo not speak until I request it of you.” Like a hard punch, she heard the king’s icy condemnation and knew the truth: death awaited her.
    â€œOn your knees, traitor.” A rough hand shoved her to the ground, but it wasn’t Malcolm’s grip or Malcolm’s roughness.
    Her kneecaps struck stone, and pain shot upward. She bit back a curse, and then realized she did not kneel alone. Her father huddled at her left shoulder. To see him again made her heart stammer. She both feared the man and pitied him. She couldn’t rightly say she cherished her father, but to see him like this…
    Though his head was bowed, he looked furtive. His brown hair, greasy now, had grayed since she’d seen himlast. His proud face was haggard, with many wrinkles and lines.
    â€œPhilip.” The king’s voice boomed, and riveted the onlookers. Even Elin started at the innate authority in his royal manner. “You have been found guilty of murder and treason. Now, after much consideration, I will sentence you.”
    There was no startled gasp from the crowd, and no remorse shown on the king’s face as he delivered his judgment. “Your lands and title will be seized. All your wealth now becomes mine. You shall be immediately hanged, drawn and quartered, a just penalty for the death and suffering you brought to my cousin and her protectors.”
    â€œâ€™Twas not me,” Philip cried pitifully. “I will give you all I own, sire. But pray, spare my life.”
    â€œAs you showed no mercy, none will be shown to you.” Edward lifted a hand, as if dismissing a scornful fly on a dung heap. “Guards, give him his just punishment.”
    â€œBut you misunderstand, dear sire.” Philip’s eyes sparkled with cunning. “I was Edith’s lover, but not her only one. The killer you seek is Caradoc—”
    â€œSilence.” Fury drove Edward forward, his royal robes whispering of masculine power as he moved. He leveled a mighty punch to her father’s jaw, and the man reeled backward, knocking against the stone floor. “That was for Edith, a gentle woman who suffered by your treachery. Guards, take him.”
    Rough hands hefted Elin’s father from the floor and dragged him through the crowd toward the yawning doors.
    Tears battered her eyes. ’Twas horrible to see Father so humiliated. Pity sliced through her, sharp edged and raw, and so great she could not draw breath. Her father, this man she’d feared and fought all her life, was no longer terrifying. He now cried like a child.
    â€œâ€™Twas my daughter and Caradoc!” Philip kicked andtwisted, struggling to break free. “’Twas they who plotted against you. Caradoc thought himself next in line for the throne, once your cousin and your family were gone!”
    â€œSilence! A true man faces his sins and admits them. He does not blame others.” Edward shook his head, as if truly saddened by events. But there was no softness in the gesture, nothing diminutive about him as he turned his gaze upon Elin’s face. ’Twas not a look of mercy.
    She quaked before this man of great power who now sought to judge her, who even now might believe her father’s desperate accusation. What could she say to save her life? What argument would be good enough?
    â€™Twas all she could do to draw air into her lungs. “Your highness, my father lies.”
    â€œI commanded you to remain silent,” Edward barked, and his words reverberated off the stone and tapestried walls. Shocked onlookers gasped in the breathless silence.
    How would he view the traitor’s daughter? Elin feared she already knew.
    â€œYour highness, may I address you?” Caradoc’s arrogant voice fragmented the silence. His shoes tapped as he faced the king.
    Elin’s