Madwulf knew this, and it was unlikely that he would give Priest any advantage. Based on my last encounter with the Scotsman, he probably wouldn’t leave without taking a bit of revenge for himself. I’d embarrassed him in front of his men. He might seem amicable now, but he was only biding his time before he made me pay.

“She looks like an emaciated whore.” Priest strode away.

I snarled behind the gag, playing along.

“What are you doing?” Madwulf tilted his head, tracking Priest’s movements near the table.

“Feeding the bitch.” He returned with an earthen jug and bowl. “I didn’t come all this way to punish a corpse.”

He crouched beside me and set the stoneware on the floor. His hand went to the back of my head, his fingers instantly finding the contusion there.

I stifled a whimper, but he sensed it, his expression losing its savage depiction in favor of genuine concern. My pulse ramped, for I knew Madwulf was watching every interaction with suspicion.

Priest quickly blanked his face, but his tender touch remained, his fingers circling the circumference of the swollen knot, inspecting the condition of it. Then he removed the gag.

I stretched my jaw as a million questions and declarations rose in my throat. I knew better than to blurt any of it. One wrong word could expose Priest’s sham, cost him his life, or at the very least, my mouth would irritate Madwulf enough to gag me again.

So I shoved down everything I wanted to say and opted for something mundane. “How did you find me?”

Priest sat beside my hip and held the jug to my lips. Warm milk washed over my tongue, which I readily drank. Then he offered me boiled rice with his fingers. I choked down the mush, wishing he would give Ashley the same nourishment. He wouldn’t, and I couldn’t ask.

“Your crew happily directed me to HMS Blitz.” Priest’s mouth curled into a devilishly alluring smile.

There was another smile hidden within it. A private one just for me. He knew my crew released him from the hold and told him exactly where I was, on account of my orders.

I ached to tell him I forgave him, that no matter what happened, I loved him and needed him and missed him. God almighty, I missed him.

Instead, I had to feign disinterest and disgust. I was never good at dissimulating. But that would need to change, for Madwulf sprawled in a nearby chair, watching and listening with rapt attention.