about.”
“She is not here, though.”
“She doesn't spend all of her time here, Sir Ian. She has other interests. Did you check the solar? She reads there at times. And the garden, aye, she likes the garden. Or perhaps she is with the other ladies, doing needlework and such.”
Fuming, Ian stomped back up to check the other chambers, barging through door after door. The foreboding didn't abate one whit, and by the time he returned to the hall's threshold it had turned into a furious certainty.
The hellcat had bolted. He knew it as surely as he felt bloody anger begin to split his mind apart.
His gaze rested on the gate. In his mind's eye he saw a bevy of women following a laundry cart through the wall.
Damn. She had walked out right under his nose, and he hadn't even been looking because he thought she was abed. Monthly pains, hell.
He shouted down to a groom to saddle a horse, and then went and harassed the man when he didn't work fast enough. Seething with silent threats of the things he would do when he got his hands on her, he kicked his horse to a gallop once he passed through the gate.
He should have let David take her away. Nay, he should have
insisted
that David do so. She was a demon from hell, disrupting peace, deliberately trying to drive him mad. Worse, she had become an invisible presence that he couldn't get out of his head. He spent his days in ridiculous anticipation of her presence, and his nights in tortured dreams of her yielding. And now, after he had been stupid enough to defend her, had assured David of her safety in Black Lyne Keep, she had walked away in a fashion sure to make him look like a fool. How could Morvan trust him to hold onto an entire estate as seneschal if he couldn't even hold onto one puny woman?
He found three guards lounging in the grass a hundred yards from the river's edge. Feminine laughter and chatter drifted in the breeze. “You are supposed to be guarding the women,” he snarled, pulling up his horse. “How can you guard them if you are so far away?”
They shot cautious, confused glances at each other. “If we were any closer, we could see them,” one offered helpfully. “You ordered we weren't to watch. We can hear if there is any trouble.”
She knew that. She had learned the routine byquestioning the women who came. “How do you ensure that no one escapes?”
Another man lifted his hands and gestured to the surrounding moss. “Escape to where? We can see for miles, and there's barely brush to hide behind between here and the farms. Besides, we count them coming and going.”
“How many today?”
“Twelve.”
Ian rode down to the river's edge. The women noticed him and began squealing. He saw a melange of breasts and hips and thighs. He quickly counted the shocked, embarrassed, or inviting faces. Eleven.
He surveyed the surrounding terrain. If she headed toward the farms, she would be easily visible.
Suppose she expected help. Suppose someone waited for her with a horse. Where? His gaze swept the deserted countryside and came to rest on the ancient motte-and-bailey fortification upriver. It was the only landmark in sight, and the growth along the river would hide her.
Searching the water's edge, he began trotting in its direction.
Chapter EIGHT
R eyna shifted the cloth sack slung over her shoulder and quickly moved through the brush and trees. She had seen Ian ride up to the river and had surmised from his speed that he had discovered her escape.
Damn the man. He shouldn't have suspected for another day or so. Alice had promised to continue bringing food to her chamber to further the deception. She should have been well away before he noticed her absence.
Her plan had gone so well too. So easy to slip out among the other women. Her poor garments didn't surprise them, because she often dressed thus, and her willingness to help with the laundry had not raised eyebrows, since she helped with cooking. Once at the river, it had been simple enough
“She is not here, though.”
“She doesn't spend all of her time here, Sir Ian. She has other interests. Did you check the solar? She reads there at times. And the garden, aye, she likes the garden. Or perhaps she is with the other ladies, doing needlework and such.”
Fuming, Ian stomped back up to check the other chambers, barging through door after door. The foreboding didn't abate one whit, and by the time he returned to the hall's threshold it had turned into a furious certainty.
The hellcat had bolted. He knew it as surely as he felt bloody anger begin to split his mind apart.
His gaze rested on the gate. In his mind's eye he saw a bevy of women following a laundry cart through the wall.
Damn. She had walked out right under his nose, and he hadn't even been looking because he thought she was abed. Monthly pains, hell.
He shouted down to a groom to saddle a horse, and then went and harassed the man when he didn't work fast enough. Seething with silent threats of the things he would do when he got his hands on her, he kicked his horse to a gallop once he passed through the gate.
He should have let David take her away. Nay, he should have
insisted
that David do so. She was a demon from hell, disrupting peace, deliberately trying to drive him mad. Worse, she had become an invisible presence that he couldn't get out of his head. He spent his days in ridiculous anticipation of her presence, and his nights in tortured dreams of her yielding. And now, after he had been stupid enough to defend her, had assured David of her safety in Black Lyne Keep, she had walked away in a fashion sure to make him look like a fool. How could Morvan trust him to hold onto an entire estate as seneschal if he couldn't even hold onto one puny woman?
He found three guards lounging in the grass a hundred yards from the river's edge. Feminine laughter and chatter drifted in the breeze. “You are supposed to be guarding the women,” he snarled, pulling up his horse. “How can you guard them if you are so far away?”
They shot cautious, confused glances at each other. “If we were any closer, we could see them,” one offered helpfully. “You ordered we weren't to watch. We can hear if there is any trouble.”
She knew that. She had learned the routine byquestioning the women who came. “How do you ensure that no one escapes?”
Another man lifted his hands and gestured to the surrounding moss. “Escape to where? We can see for miles, and there's barely brush to hide behind between here and the farms. Besides, we count them coming and going.”
“How many today?”
“Twelve.”
Ian rode down to the river's edge. The women noticed him and began squealing. He saw a melange of breasts and hips and thighs. He quickly counted the shocked, embarrassed, or inviting faces. Eleven.
He surveyed the surrounding terrain. If she headed toward the farms, she would be easily visible.
Suppose she expected help. Suppose someone waited for her with a horse. Where? His gaze swept the deserted countryside and came to rest on the ancient motte-and-bailey fortification upriver. It was the only landmark in sight, and the growth along the river would hide her.
Searching the water's edge, he began trotting in its direction.
Chapter EIGHT
R eyna shifted the cloth sack slung over her shoulder and quickly moved through the brush and trees. She had seen Ian ride up to the river and had surmised from his speed that he had discovered her escape.
Damn the man. He shouldn't have suspected for another day or so. Alice had promised to continue bringing food to her chamber to further the deception. She should have been well away before he noticed her absence.
Her plan had gone so well too. So easy to slip out among the other women. Her poor garments didn't surprise them, because she often dressed thus, and her willingness to help with the laundry had not raised eyebrows, since she helped with cooking. Once at the river, it had been simple enough
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