He poured her some water from the jug on the table. ‘You made it surprisingly far without a horse. Your feet must be a sight.’

She had been expecting these kinds of questions. ‘I have Ita’s horse.’

His eyebrows rose. ‘I suppose it should come as no surprise that she was waiting to help you.’

‘No, it really should not. She is a very loyal friend.’ As far as he was aware, the defenders had returned to Chadora, and she wanted to keep it that way.

‘I am surprised she supported your returning to me.’ He handed her the cup.

She watched him over the brim as she drank. When she was done, she handed him the empty cup. ‘One of the women you hanged was Ita’s mother.’

His eyebrows rose. ‘I did not even know she was living in the camp.’ He paused to think. ‘I gather she was the woman who aided your escape?’

‘All she did was remove the belt from my wrists.’

‘Which started this whole nightmare. She is the reason I almost lost you.’

Isabel blinked away the image of Yvaine suspended from a tree. ‘She was a cook in our household for more than twenty years. She was my mother’s friend and a beautiful human being.’

He appeared unmoved by this revelation. ‘Am I expected to remember all the faces of your past?’

She looked away. ‘That woman helped raise me.’

‘I assure you she did not die because she was Ita’s mother. Perhaps if she had identified herself—’

‘She was afraid you would kill her. A valid fear, it turns out.’

He gave her an exasperated look. ‘What a mood you have arrived in.’

‘I just left Ita with her mother’s corpse.’

He put the cup down and stepped closer to her. ‘So you are angry and once again determined to carry past grievances into our future?’

She blinked. ‘I found her hanging from a tree mere hours ago.’

‘And we both know that me standing here telling you I am sorry will do little to ease your suffering. You are a very sensitive woman. I understand that. So tell me what you need from me.’

She regarded him. ‘Tell me what you want from me.’

His expression softened. ‘You already know. I want you as my wife, as the mother of my children. I want you forever—and soon. The waiting has been pure torture, and I stand by what I said yesterday. It is not good for either of us.’

From another man, under different circumstances, those words might have been romantic. But from Hodge, after what he had done, they were grotesque.

‘It did occur to me, after your sudden departure, that perhaps I had gotten a little carried away with the idea of marrying you here in the camp,’ he continued. ‘It is only natural that you want your family to bear witness to our union.’