Читать книгу Falling for Her Captor - Elisabeth Hobbes - Страница 11

Chapter Three

They travelled for what felt like hours. A brief struggle convinced Aline that her limbs were too tightly bound to give her any hope of freeing herself. The repetitive motion of the cart and sounds of hooves made her drowsy, and she kept slipping in and out of consciousness.

She awoke with wet cheeks, realising she had been weeping in her sleep. Now her mind dwelt further on the people she had left behind. When would anyone even know what had befallen her? It could be hours before Dickon returned to the city with his lies.

As much as that, however, she could not stop dwelling on why she had been taken. But for the gag in her mouth the lack of knowledge would have made her scream. Was she a hostage? The notion seemed ridiculous. There had been peace for many years, so why would the Duke of Roxholm risk disrupting it? But it had to be that, she told herself. Any other alternative was far too horrific to contemplate.

The movement of the cart stopped abruptly and Aline became alert once more. It was colder now, and the muted light coming through the curtains told her night was beginning to fall. They had been travelling for hours, so it was little wonder her body ached from lying on the rough mattress. Her throat felt rough and sore and she would have begged willingly for a drink. Her fingers were cold and numb, though wriggling them caused sparks of pain to shoot up her arms from where the ropes bit tightly into her wrists.

From outside the cart came voices and the clattering of equipment as the men set up camp for the night. Aline tried to twist her body round to see what was happening but all she succeeded in doing was covering her face with her hair and catching her skirt on a loose piece of wood. After minutes of fruitless attempts she gave up and lay still. Her throat tightened at the prospect of being left like this all night and she forced herself to breathe slowly. Finally, as her composure began to crumble, she heard somebody climb inside.

The person came closer and Aline gave a muffled cry as hands touched her shoulders. She was lifted briskly by the arms and pulled to a seated position against the side of the cart, with her legs curled underneath her. Loose strands of hair fell in front of her face, tendrils sticking to the saltwater tracks on her cheeks. The itching irritated her. That it was evidence she had been crying infuriated her even more. She wiped her cheek across her shoulder to move the hair from her eyes and saw who had lifted her upright.

The man in black sat back against the opposite side of the cart, too tall to stand upright. Aline studied her captor properly for the first time. He was well built, and she estimated no more than ten years her elder, though lines were starting to show on his brow and round his eyes. He sat silently, elbows on his knees and chin on his hands, returning Aline’s gaze.

Eventually he cleared his throat and spoke. ‘Forgive me for not introducing myself before, Lady Aline. I am Hugh of Eardham, Captain of the Guard of Roxholm.’

He paused, as though he expected a response, though what did he expect her to do, given that she was bound and with a gag in her mouth? Aline thought scornfully.

When no reaction was forthcoming he continued. ‘I think it is important that we reach an understanding that will make the journey easier for everyone, so let me explain your situation. A message was sent back to Leavingham with your horses and the body of your groom. It states very strongly that the High Lord must take no action until he receives further communication or you will forfeit your life.’

He paused to let his words sink in, watching Aline closely.

‘If we have an easy journey it will take us several days before we rendezvous with the rest of my men. Now, I can untie you, and let you travel the rest of the way in comfort, but only if you give your word not to make things difficult for us. Otherwise you will remain as you are. The choice is yours.’

Aline glared at him, any number of sharp responses coming to mind. But her arms and shoulders ached from the unnatural position they had been forced into, and the gag dug into the sides of her mouth. Knowing she had little choice, she nodded. The Captain leaned forwards and removed the cloth from Aline’s mouth. As he came close she caught a mixture of scents: horse, leather, and something musky that made her catch her breath.

Drawing his dagger, the man reached around and cut the bindings on Aline’s hands and feet. Red weals stood out on her skin, stark against the pale flesh. She rubbed her arms to dull the pain as feeling came rushing back into them in sharp bursts.

The Captain stuck his head out of the cart and called for wine. Presently someone passed a wineskin through to him and he held it out to Aline. She tried to take it but her hands were numb and she winced in pain, her fingers unable to grip properly. Seeing her discomfort, the Captain knelt next to her and held the wineskin to her lips. It was an unexpectedly kind gesture and Aline paused, suspecting trickery of some sort.

‘It is only wine, I promise you. See?’ the Captain said. He took a deep draught himself, then held it so she could drink. ‘Here...not too fast.’

Aline sipped the cool liquid slowly, conscious of his eyes on her and unsettled at the way his gaze made her heart thump.

‘You knew all along I had gone,’ she said accusingly. ‘Were you just toying with me?’

The Captain shook his head. ‘Not toying,’ he said. ‘I was curious to see what you would do. I meant it when I said I was impressed. It took courage to do what you did. No one is coming for you, however, so while I commend you on your ingenuity in leaving this—’ he drew Aline’s necklace from the pouch at his waist and let the chain dangle between his gloved fingers ‘—it was futile.’

Until that moment Aline had held on to the hope that she might be rescued. Now that hope vanished completely. Everything she had tried to do had been in vain. Her eyes began to prickle and she blinked furiously, determined not to let the tears spill once more.

With his eyes never leaving Aline’s, her captor gathered up the chain and slipped it away. His eyes travelled downwards to take in the state of her clothing. Aline blushed at how dishevelled she must look: her bodice was still unlaced from Dickon’s attack and her shift had slipped to show more of her flesh than was seemly. The telltale heat of a blush coursed over her neck and cheeks. She hoped it was not noticeable in the fading light.

‘Take a few moments to compose yourself, then join us,’ the Captain said. ‘Duncan can find you some salve to ease the pain in your wrists and Jack is cooking dinner. He makes a better cook than he does watchman. If you have any need to attend to that which you did not take care of earlier you can use the bucket round the side of the cart. You will have your privacy, but don’t even think of sneaking off or I’ll truss you like a chicken and leave you in here until we get to the citadel.’

With a curt nod of the head he left her.

Aline quickly relaced her bodice and pushed a stray comb back into her hair, then climbed from the cart to locate the bucket. They had stopped in a clearing close to the river. Aline knelt on the bank, washing her hands and face in the cool water and rubbing salve over her wrists. Standing up, she noticed the Captain watching her and she frowned. Did he think she was about to jump in and swim for freedom?

The men continued to set up camp while Aline watched from the low step at the back of the cart. The older man, Duncan, produced thick blankets from one of the boxes in the wagon. Wordlessly he passed one to Aline as she sat hugging her knees to her chest. The night was cold, and she shivered in spite of the warm blanket. Though she had been asleep or unconscious for most of the afternoon she felt fatigue start to creep over her and she stifled a yawn.

The Captain strode over and Aline eyed him coldly. Before she could protest he had taken hold of her hands. He pushed her sleeves up, running his thumbs lightly over the flesh.

‘Is this less painful now?’ he asked brusquely.

Aline nodded. The salve had eased the sting and the redness had all but disappeared.

‘Good,’ he said.

Abruptly he left her, and walked round to the front of the cart, then returned bearing a set of iron cuffs linked with a long chain. Aline drew an angry breath as she realised their purpose. He passed the chain through the spokes of the cartwheel, then fastened the manacles round her wrists. The chain was long enough to give her freedom to move close to the fire or lie down, but ensured that she could not try another escape attempt.

‘So men of Roxholm break their word quickly!’ she spat at him.

‘I plan to sleep tonight—not sit up making sure my charge doesn’t walk away again. You will have your liberty in the morning,’ he answered.

The condescending tone of his voice made Aline’s blood boil but she bit back a retort, knowing that there was nothing to be gained by provoking him.

‘I want my necklace back,’ she demanded instead.

The Captain shook his head. ‘No. I think I’ll keep that for the time being. Maybe if you behave yourself over the next few days...’

The Captain was still holding on to her wrists, so she pulled her hand away from his sharply. He gave a deep, appreciative laugh, as though he respected her rebellion, and bowed before leaving her. Aline pulled fretfully at the cuffs, eventually succeeding in easing her sleeves under the metal. The material provided some shield from the sharp edges, leaving the only injury to Aline’s pride.

The night wore on slowly.

The three men sat close to the fire, playing dice and sharing a jug of ale. They ignored Aline, who sat watching from her position on the step, thinking miserably of home. Later Jack brought her a bowl of surprisingly good stew, thick with barley and sorrel. Her appetite returned with a vengeance and she ate greedily. The boy hovered over her, smiling shyly at how well the meal was received. His eye was beginning to turn a lurid colour from the thump Duncan had given him.

‘You should find some comfrey for your eye...it must hurt,’ Aline told him.

The boy gave her a rueful smile and brushed a hand across his swollen cheek. ‘If you had succeeded in escaping we would all have been dead men—the Captain included. I think I got off lightly really.’

They both looked over to where the Captain sat cross-legged and his meaning was clear. Aline shivered and followed his gaze. The Captain had removed his leather greatcoat and was clad in a light tunic. He wore a look of intense concentration on his face as he sharpened his dagger in slow, methodical strokes. An odd fluttering curled about Aline’s stomach as she noticed the way his muscles moved. A traitorous voice whispered in her mind that if he ever smiled properly this man would be very handsome. She mentally hushed the voice, annoyed that she had noticed at all.

The Captain became aware that he was being watched and turned to stare at Aline. She held his gaze boldly. He put down his whetstone, picked up a rolled blanket and walked over to where she sat.

‘May I join you, my lady?’

Aline shrugged, a twinge of embarrassment causing her heart to miss a beat. He took her empty bowl and gave it back to the young guard with a jerk of his head.

‘Thank you, Jack,’ he said pointedly.

The lad took the hint and went back to his companion. Aline moved to turn her back on the Captain, disinclined to talk, but the question that had gripped her heart since she had awoken got the better of her.

‘What does the Duke want with me?’ she asked, trying to keep the anxiety from her voice.

The Captain folded his arms across his broad chest and shook his head. ‘That I cannot tell you, I am afraid. My lord has not shared such information with me.’

A thought that had been shouting for Aline’s attention resurfaced. ‘You said a message was sent with the body of my groom. What happened to him?’

‘He betrayed you and tried to violate you, but you care how he died?’ The man raised his eyebrows in surprise.

‘I didn’t say I cared. I said I wanted to know what had happened!’ Aline snapped.

Her fury must have hit a target because the Captain’s expression softened, then became serious.

He sat down next to her on the step, his shoulder brushing hers, and set his jaw. ‘As you must have guessed by now, he worked for my lord. He had been a groom in the citadel, then a criminal under sentence of death. He was offered a pardon in exchange for working his way into your household and bringing you to us.’

‘What had he done?’ Aline asked. Her hands curled into fists at the thought of how easily Leavingham’s security had been breached.

‘His crime? I am not sure. I did not play any part in choosing him,’ the Captain explained. ‘My only part in the affair was to meet him and escort you to Roxholm. We were to send him back to Leavingham alive, but battered. He had to keep up his story of heroically defending you against us.’

He paused and a strange look crossed his face that Aline did not fully understand. She wondered briefly if he was holding something back.

The Captain continued his tale. ‘He must have believed he was a dead man once his task was done, or maybe he took exception to my timing, because he produced a knife and attacked me. I had to act in self-defence. I do not regret his death, though, given what he was preparing to do. Neither should you.’

Aline exhaled deeply and her shoulders sagged as she felt the tension leaving her. ‘Thank you for telling me,’ she said. ‘And thank you for...’ Her voice tailed off as her mind played out the memory of Dickon’s mouth and hands roaming across her unwilling body. Her mouth twisted into a grimace.

When the Captain spoke next his voice was unexpectedly gentle. ‘You should get some sleep, my lady. You have had a hard day and we’ll be back on the road early. I give you my word that you will come to no such harm again.’

The memory of the Captain’s body on hers as they had struggled on the ground came back to Aline in a flash, along with the words she had screamed at him and the manner in which he had countered her assumption. He had said she was safe from...that, but could she trust him?

As if he was reading Aline’s thoughts, the Captain unrolled the blanket and wrapped it snugly around her shoulders with a smile. ‘You need have no fear for your safety in any respect whilst you are in my charge. I will keep you safe.’

He walked back to the fire, wrapped his own blanket around his body, and lay down, arms crossed over his chest. He was soon snoring gently, as though he had no cares in the world, and as though he had not just calmly told her of the death of a man and left her chained in the dark!

Aline climbed off the step and lay on the bedroll placed for her on the ground. His body had been warm next to hers and the air was chilly in comparison. She wrapped her blanket tighter and curled into a ball, hating him and doubting she would find such peace herself that night.