Impostress by Lisa Jackson Page B

passed, Kiera had become more certain that she was trapped, at least for another day, in her ruse.
    After scouring every copse of trees and stretch of fields she could think of, she gave up her fruitless search and reined Garnet toward the keep. She could waste no more time.
    Even now, Kelan could be stirring. Worse yet, he might already be awake and wandering about the castle searching for her. What if he caught her returning from her ride and what if someone in the castle was there—the stable master, or the carter, or even the gong farmer? If he acted as if they were wed and she was his bride, the peasants would point out that she wasn't Elyn ... oh, no, she couldn't let that happen.
    "Hurry," she whispered, riding through a final thicket of oak, thinking of the day ahead and the pitfalls she would have to avoid. She leaned forward in the saddle as the scent of the sea filled her nostrils and a few rays of sunlight pierced the clouds. How long could she keep up this deception? How would she keep her "husband" in Elyn's chamber? She couldn't very well lock him in. She thought of the sleepless night she'd spent and how she'd behaved, how easily he'd sparked the womanly fires deep within her, how even now she would like to feel those breath-stopping sensations just once more.
    "Don't think of it," she growled to herself as she dug her knees into the mare. Strong muscles responded. Red legs flashed as Garnet sped across the damp fields of yellowed grass, racing over the uneven ground in long, quick strides. Kiera felt the rush of the wind, her fingers twining in the reins, her face slapped by the mare's coarse mane. Through the rising mists, she saw the castle emerge, its towers spiring high enough to disappear into the low-hanging clouds.
    There was a chance that Penelope had found Elyn hiding within the castle walls. Mayhap even now she was with her husband ... Kiera's stomach twisted at the thought. Could her sister take her place in Kelan's bed? Was it possible for Elyn to have spent one last night of lovemaking with Brock, then slip into her discarded identity once again and take Kelan, her husband, as her lover? The thought was like a drip of ice in Kiera's heart, though she didn't want to think about why it mattered to her.
    Tugging on the reins, she guided Garnet onto the rutted, muddy road leading to the main gates. Dirt flew from the horse's hooves, and the wind, tugging off her hood, whistled past Kiera's head. Her heart was pounding, but not so much from her wild ride as from the thought of facing Kelan. If Elyn had returned, Kiera would have to avoid Kelan entirely. But if her wayward sister was not within the keep, Kiera would need to take her place in his bed. If for no other reason than to keep him in their room.
    Her pulse jumped at the thought, for she would like nothing better than another night learning the secrets and pleasures of lovemaking and yet ... it would be best for all if she never was with Kelan again, if she never felt his touch upon her skin. The sooner she ignored her silly fantasies, the better for everyone.
    She raced around a miller's wagon filled with flour sacks. Oxen were straining at their yoke, and the miller was growling orders at his team. Slowing as she reached the drawbridge, she guided the mare past a woman shepherding four children through the main gate and had to slow nearly to a stop when a peddler's mule balked and brayed in protest at pulling his overladen cart past the guard. Silver trinkets in the cart jangled noisily and the florid-faced peddler snapped his whip angrily over the obstinate beast's ears.
    "Move, ye bloody slug!" the peddler shouted as Kiera guided her mare through the narrow opening between the cart and the sidewall of the gate. The horse perked up her ears and loped easily to the stable, where Orson, seated upon a worn stump, was watching with a critical eye as a stableboy held fast to a tether restraining a young, headstrong colt.
    "Don't fight him," Orson