the sackcloth, that gentle hand. Perhaps she had not misheard that muttered apology.
Wulf, her abductor had to be Wulf. The man was a mass of contradictions. He was no noble, yet in his dealings with her he had been innately gentle, innately courteous. In the short time that she had known him he had shown himself to be more considerate of her feelings than most men. Relief flooded through her as the certainty gathered power, Wulf Brader was her abductor. Though why he should do this when he answered to Guthlac was a mystery. She tried to speak, but through the gag it was impossible.
Wet and uncomfortable, Erica lay in the bottom of the boat while her captor rowed. Please, God, let it be Wulf , she prayed, let it be Wulf . Surrendering to the motion of the boat, an almost imperceptible swaying, she wished he would remove the hood--it itched like the plague. Her skin crawled. And her boots were back in the chapel; her feet were freezing, her toes going numb. Shivering, she thought longingly of the great fire at Whitecliffe Hall, and blinked back a rush of tears. Gone, those days were gone and would never return. Her tears soaked into the sacking.
Half an hour passed, perhaps an hour--she lost track of time. Then, without warning, the boat juddered. More splashing. The boat tilted, there were various creakings and grunts and she was urged to a sitting position.
She mumbled into the gag. The sacking was snatched from her head and an intense cold bit at her cheeks and ears. Starlight--no, not stars, but light leaking from an iron lantern, which had stars cut into the shutter. A broad-shouldered figure crouched beside her. She was pulled unceremoniously against a wide chest and quick fingers untied the gag.
Chapter Eight
S pitting out bits of sacking, Erica jerked back and rubbed her cheek on her shoulder to get rid of stray threads. 'Wulf!' Relief made her weak, and angry. 'What in hell are you doing?'
'Rescuing you, I think.'
There was amusement in his tone, damn him. How dare he laugh at her--did he not realise how much he had frightened her? 'Rescuing me?' Shuffling round on her knees, she presented him with her bound hands. 'Did you have to bind me so tightly? Release me, for pity's sake.'
In a moment her hands were free and she was facing him again, rolling aching shoulders, rubbing sore wrists. 'Why?'
Dark brows drew together. 'I did not trust Guthlac with you.' He sounded guarded, but a wave of his hand had her focusing on her surroundings rather than his tone. 'You are free now.'
The sky must be overcast, for the only stars that Erica could see were the stars shining from the lantern. There was no moon and a cold wind was shaking the reeds. She shivered. 'In breaking me out of sanctuary, you imperil your mortal soul.'
His shoulders lifted. 'There were...more important considerations.'
'More important than the state of your soul? Father Agilbert would take issue with you there.'
Another shrug. 'There are many who would say my soul is of little account--I am damned by my birth, remember. Besides--' his voice warmed '--I did want to see you out of there.'
'You felt impelled to be my champion? Why? Thane Guthlac will have you flogged when he finds out.'
'Thane Guthlac would do more than that if he knew the whole,' came the cryptic response.
Erica did not have the first idea what he was talking about. She peered into the night, but the light from the starry lantern did not reach far and she could only make out a shrubby shoreline fringed with ice, and a dark shape that might be a fallen tree. 'We seem to have run aground.'
'Aye.' Wulf shoved his hands through his hair. 'Damn waterways are like a maze, especially in the dark.'
'Lost your way, did you?'
'I know where we are, at least I hope I do.' With a sigh, he rose and the boat shifted. He picked up a bundle and offered her his hand.
He was dressed for travelling, with those wide shoulders swathed in a fur-lined cloak Erica had not seen before and sturdy
Wulf, her abductor had to be Wulf. The man was a mass of contradictions. He was no noble, yet in his dealings with her he had been innately gentle, innately courteous. In the short time that she had known him he had shown himself to be more considerate of her feelings than most men. Relief flooded through her as the certainty gathered power, Wulf Brader was her abductor. Though why he should do this when he answered to Guthlac was a mystery. She tried to speak, but through the gag it was impossible.
Wet and uncomfortable, Erica lay in the bottom of the boat while her captor rowed. Please, God, let it be Wulf , she prayed, let it be Wulf . Surrendering to the motion of the boat, an almost imperceptible swaying, she wished he would remove the hood--it itched like the plague. Her skin crawled. And her boots were back in the chapel; her feet were freezing, her toes going numb. Shivering, she thought longingly of the great fire at Whitecliffe Hall, and blinked back a rush of tears. Gone, those days were gone and would never return. Her tears soaked into the sacking.
Half an hour passed, perhaps an hour--she lost track of time. Then, without warning, the boat juddered. More splashing. The boat tilted, there were various creakings and grunts and she was urged to a sitting position.
She mumbled into the gag. The sacking was snatched from her head and an intense cold bit at her cheeks and ears. Starlight--no, not stars, but light leaking from an iron lantern, which had stars cut into the shutter. A broad-shouldered figure crouched beside her. She was pulled unceremoniously against a wide chest and quick fingers untied the gag.
Chapter Eight
S pitting out bits of sacking, Erica jerked back and rubbed her cheek on her shoulder to get rid of stray threads. 'Wulf!' Relief made her weak, and angry. 'What in hell are you doing?'
'Rescuing you, I think.'
There was amusement in his tone, damn him. How dare he laugh at her--did he not realise how much he had frightened her? 'Rescuing me?' Shuffling round on her knees, she presented him with her bound hands. 'Did you have to bind me so tightly? Release me, for pity's sake.'
In a moment her hands were free and she was facing him again, rolling aching shoulders, rubbing sore wrists. 'Why?'
Dark brows drew together. 'I did not trust Guthlac with you.' He sounded guarded, but a wave of his hand had her focusing on her surroundings rather than his tone. 'You are free now.'
The sky must be overcast, for the only stars that Erica could see were the stars shining from the lantern. There was no moon and a cold wind was shaking the reeds. She shivered. 'In breaking me out of sanctuary, you imperil your mortal soul.'
His shoulders lifted. 'There were...more important considerations.'
'More important than the state of your soul? Father Agilbert would take issue with you there.'
Another shrug. 'There are many who would say my soul is of little account--I am damned by my birth, remember. Besides--' his voice warmed '--I did want to see you out of there.'
'You felt impelled to be my champion? Why? Thane Guthlac will have you flogged when he finds out.'
'Thane Guthlac would do more than that if he knew the whole,' came the cryptic response.
Erica did not have the first idea what he was talking about. She peered into the night, but the light from the starry lantern did not reach far and she could only make out a shrubby shoreline fringed with ice, and a dark shape that might be a fallen tree. 'We seem to have run aground.'
'Aye.' Wulf shoved his hands through his hair. 'Damn waterways are like a maze, especially in the dark.'
'Lost your way, did you?'
'I know where we are, at least I hope I do.' With a sigh, he rose and the boat shifted. He picked up a bundle and offered her his hand.
He was dressed for travelling, with those wide shoulders swathed in a fur-lined cloak Erica had not seen before and sturdy
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