The Captive Bride

“If they do,”Katharine said from behind hands that rubbed at her face, “we’ll fend them off. You have your daggers, do you not? Don’t hesitate. to make use of them, for I assure you I’ll have mine well blooded before one of the wretches can so much as set a finger to me. And if they do attempt to enter this chamber, ‘twill be for our gold, most like, rather than our persons.”

“That is even worse,”Dorothea said dryly. “We need our gold far more dearly than we need our virtue. If we’re to make our way without starving to death,”she added when her companions looked at her.

“I think this a complete madness,”Ariette stated, drawing her cloak still more about her. “We’ll never find Kieran FitzAllen, and if Sir Senet should find us.”She left the dire thought unfinished.

“We will find Kieran,”Katharine said insistently. “If not us, then the messenger who left Lomas will do so, and then Kie will come looking for us. Somehow we’ll come across each other. It must be so.”

“You try to convince yourself, my lady,”Dorothea said, “but if Sir Senet finds us first, we’ll be fortunate to live through the beatings we’ll be given.”

“I know,”Katharine admitted morosely. The idea of running away from Lomas had seemed such a good one earlier, in the light of day and in the face of her fury at Senet Gaillard, but now, sitting in this dank hovel with the prospect of a long and sleepless night looming ahead—and a longer, difficult journey, as well—it wasn’t quite so appealing. “But that son of a traitor—that usurper—will not find us so easily. The feast will delay him from discovering that we’ve gone, and the rainthank a merciful God for it—will wash away the tracks we’ve made.”

Dorothea shook her head. “That won’t stop a man like Senet Gaillard.”

Katharine thought of the man, of his ice—blue eyes and black hair. Of the hard face that had been without emotion after the victory he’d won at Lomas.

“No,”she said softly, “I cannot think it will. I admit that my scheme to get away from him is perhaps a foolish one. I should never have let you all come with me.”

“We would never have let you go alone,”Ariette told her.

“Oh, no, dear lady,”Magan agreed. “How could we forsake you in such a desperate time? I do not care what Sir Senet may do to us. Truly.”

Poor little Magan, Katharine thought with affection, setting an arm about the trembling girl’s shoulders. She was far too young for such a frightening adventure.

“But I care, Magan,”she said. “And if, may God forbid it, he should find us, you must be obedient to his command and let me draw his wrath down upon my own head.”

“No,”Dorothea said firmly. “We are not such poor friends as to desert you.”

“’Tis not right, Doro, for any of you to suffer for my sake. I am older and stronger, and the lady of Lomas, besides. You will do as I say and let me handle Senet Gaillard in my own manner. I do not ask it. I command it. But we will have no worry for that now. Let us rest as we may this night and pray that our journey to discover Kieran FitzAllen finds success.”

They huddled together, sitting upon the pallet with their backs against the wall, and fell silent, not daring to lie down for fear of the vermin that crawled about the place. The loud din made by the patrons in the tavern continued unabated for hours, eventually lulling them to sleep. Katharine struggled to remain awake, to make some kind of guard for them against intrusion, but exhaustion overtook her and she drifted into uneasy dreams of Lomas, and of cold blue eyes in a hard, starkly handsome face.

His voice brought her awake with a start and a gasp. She flung her head up too quickly, striking the mortared wall and sending a shock of pain all the way down to her sleep—numbed toes.

“Search the tavern.”The command was loud against the clattering of boots and swords, of tables being overturned and dishes breaking on the floor.

It was yet dark outside, and so cold that Katharine’s skin burned with it. The lone candle that had earlier given them light had long since burned to naught, but the moment the door was flung open they would be discovered.

“Up!”she whispered fiercely, shaking the others. “Up! Magan! Ariette! Doro—”Her hand searched about in the dark for the third girl. “Doro!”

She wasn’t there, Katharine realized with growing panic as the searching men grew closer and louder.

“Oh!”Magan cried, scrambling to her feet as Katharine pulled her up from the floor. “It’s Sir Senet!”

“God save us!”Ariette murmured with pure fright. “Where’s Doro?”

“Gone,”Katharine said, quickly feeling for the leather pouches that she’d tied about her waist. “Out that window, most like. And taken half the gold. The fool! She’s gone in search of Kieran on her own. Ariette—”she pushed the older girl toward Magan “—go with Senet Gaillard and his men. Give them no trouble.”She began to climb out the window. “Take care of Magan.”

“But, my lady—!”

Katharine was out the window just as the door burst open. She heard one of Sir Senet’s men shouting, “My lord!”and waited to hear no more. She started running, headlong, into the dark forest, picking up her skirts to race as fast as she could away from the sounds of Ariette and Magan screaming. He wouldn’t hurt them, she told herself. He wouldn’t. He’d taken Lomas without killing even one of her men, without causing any great injuriessurely he wouldn’t beat two innocent women for crimes that were not their own.

She was the one he wanted—no, needed. Because without her he couldn’t have Lomas. Now it came down to which of them wanted it more. She would run all night if she had to. She would find Kieran if she had to cover every square inch of England on foot, alone.

The woods were filled with a fine, chilling mist that made it hard to find her way, and caused each desperate breath to ache like a frozen knife plunging in her chest. She stopped, after several minutes of panicked flight, and rested against a tree, panting harshly, trying to decide which direction to go. She was cold, so cold, and wet from the fog and mud. All around her the trees dripped with the rain that had fallen. In the distance she heard shouts, the sounds of horses whinnying and stomping. She wondered how Ariette and Magan had fared at the hands of Senet Gaillard and his men, and sent up a silent prayer that all was well.

Dozens of horses drew nearer in the dark, their hooves muffled in the mud. And then there were voices. Men’s voices. His voice, above all the others. Katharine pushed from the tree and started running again, cursing the darkness that made it so difficult to see her course.

“Kayne!”

It was Senet Gaillard, she realized with panic. Right behind her. She began running faster.

“Here!”a man’s voice shouted in reply, coming from Katharine’s right.

She. veered left, stumbling and crying out, then picked herself up and threw herself onward. Suddenly she heard muddy footsteps, and a man appeared out of the mist. The blond man who had stood beside Senet Gaillard that afternoon. Kayne.

“Lady Katharine!”he shouted, putting his arms out as if to catch her. Katharine stopped and stared, gasping for air. He was panting, too, moving toward her more slowly. “My lady,”he began in an unsteady tone. Katharine ducked her head and rammed him with all her strength, sending him flying backward into the mud. The look of utter surprise on his face would have made her laugh if she’d had the leisure. As it was, she jumped past his inert body and ran on into the darkness. But her freedom was short—lived. Within steps she heard Senet Gaillard behind her, cursing as he closed upon her, and then his hand was on the collar of her surcoat, dragging her to a stop. Katharine whirled about with a fist, striking him in the face, nearly gaining her freedom again. But he held on and dragged her, struggling, into the mud.

“Foolish…woman,”he managed to growl against the flailing blows she landed.

“I will not,” she panted, “wed you!”A particularly strong slap stung against the side of his face, almost knocking him away.

That was when she realized he’d been striving to be gentle with her, for all at once her hands were clasped in a viselike grip and pressed into the mud, and her struggles stilled almost instantly by the hard strength of his body, which he nearly smothered her with, lying atop her. She felt unutterably stupid, as helpless as a child, and could have laughed at how she might ever have believed she could fight her way free.

He brought his face near her own and spoke in a tone that was full angry. “I offered you peace. I would have taken you for my wife with every respect owed to the lady of Lomas. You have made the offer forfeit. Now, Lady Katharine, I have hunted and caught you fairly, and you are my captive. I owe you nothing.”

“Bastard!”she snarled. “Nothing is just what I want of you! Son of a traitor!”

“Prisoners do not speak in such a manner to their captors. Not without punishment That I will save for later. For now—”He sat up, dragging her with him. “Kayne!”he shouted into the darkness.

“Here.”Kayne came walking slowly through the mist, and several other men appeared as well.

“You have taken no harm?”Senet asked his friend.

“Only to my pride,”Kayne replied with an embarrassed laugh. “And my clothes are muddied, but nothing more.”

“Bind our prisoner’s hands. She cannot be trusted.”

Kayne rubbed the back of his blond head, hesitating. “Senet.”

“Bind them!”Senet commanded, pulling a knife from the belt at his waist. He roughly grabbed the hem of Katharine’s surcoat and, ignoring her cry of fury, cut away a strip of cloth. “Here.”He tossed the cloth to the other man, who had knelt behind Katharine and taken her hands. While he tied them together, Senet cut another, longer strip. He dangled it in front of Katharine’s face. “Shall I use this to silence you? Or will you keep still of your own accord? For I tell you now nothing will anger me so well this night as any more of your foolish prate.”

“Use it,”she dared with ill—concealed hatred, “and prove to my people what manner of man you are. Traitor. Usurper.”

His icy eyes held no emotion as he deftly set the gag about her lips, tying it securely so that she could say no more.

“Those are better titles than the one you now bear, my lady,”he told her softly, close to her face. “Titles you have taken of your own will. You are my prisoner, Lady Katharine.”His cold gaze held her own. “My captive, and, by God above, I vow that I shall treat you accordingly.”

Chapter Four (#ulink_1d5a3dc7-cd1f-54d6-aee0-3f0f96505fa1)