She pictured night after night tied to a bed in a freezing room. Because once they were wed she had no choice, no voice, in her own life. Her husband would own her and there would be nothing she nor anyone else could do to help her.
She began trembling, a combination of fear and chill, the sobs building inside her, unable to be heard because of the gag in her mouth. She would die fighting him before she allowed him to continue to treat her this way.
And then the sun made its appearance. The room turned a dark gray that leant form to the furniture and pushed the shadows closer to the corners. Gray turned to purple, then pink, then yellow. There was movement outside the window and she wondered if anyone knew that she’d spent the night tied to the bed. She hoped not and yet she also hoped everyone knew.
After what seemed like hours she heard footsteps on the staircase outside the door. Heavy footsteps, so it wasn’t a serving maid. No doubt Lysle had instructed everyone to stay away from the room. There would be no fire built for her this morning.
The lock turned in the door—she’d not even realized it had been locked from the outside—and Lysle stepped through looking rested and recently washed. He was wearing a different set of clothes from the day before. Still black and white but freshly brushed.
Rose didn’t think she could hate anyone as much as she hated Lysle in that moment. His wet hair, neatly combed, his fresh scent that came with him spiked her hatred so that her heart pounded with it.
“My, my, it’s cold in here,” he said conversationally, as if they were speaking of only the weather and not that he’d left a defenseless woman alone all night in a cold room.
He rubbed his arms, his gaze going from her hands above her head, traveling over her body. The bodice of her gown was twisted, revealing more of her bosom than was appropriate. His gaze lingered there for a long moment before moving to her exposed legs and her toes that were nearly purple with cold before meeting her gaze.
“Have you learned your lesson?”
She glared at him but her mouth was too dry to make any sound.
“I will take that as a yes,” he said as he stepped to the side of the bed and began untying the cord binding her hands.
Her arms fell to her sides with a thump. To her horror they wouldn’t respond to her commands. She stared at the offending appendages in shock, willing her fingers to move, her elbows to bend, but nothing happened. They just laid there, unmoving, unnecessary.
Tears sprang to her eyes but she furiously blinked them away, unable to swipe at them with her useless arms.
Then the pain came as blood began flowing back down her arms, pinpricks that felt like a thousand bees were stinging her over and over. She wanted to howl in misery and frustration. How was she to defeat Lysle if she couldn’t even move her arms?
After a few moments she was able to curl the tips of her fingers in.
“I ordered food to be brought up,” Lysle was saying. “You might want to get off the bed so the servant doesn’t see you in such…dishabille.”
She glared at him.
“Ah, yes. I should probably take the gag off.” He reached for her, then pulled back. “You won’t scream this time?”
She shook her head, wanting more than anything to have this gag off her so she could lick her parched lips.
He contemplated her for a long time but she refused to beg even though she desperately wanted to. She sat still, slowly working the feeling back into her fingers. Already she could feel her wrists.
He untied the knot at the back of her head, pulling at her hair but she didn’t care. She felt such relief when the gag fell from her mouth and she could move her lips. They were chapped and dry and her tongue was so parched that it stuck to her lips.
There was a knock on the door, and Lysle went to open it while Rose struggled to slide off the bed. The pinpricks in her arms had receded a bit but her feet were numb from the cold and when she managed to stand she almost fell over because she couldn’t feel her legs from the knees down.
She clutched the bedpost as Lysle let the serving girl in to set up the table by the cold fireplace. Rose’s stomach growled loudly.
The girl frowned at the open window and closed it before she left. If she noticed that the fire was not lit she did not acknowledge it.
Lysle sat down at the table and began removing covers off the dishes. Rose was damned if she was going to stand there and wait for his invitation to sit down. She hobbled to the table and pulled out the chair. Her arms felt like they were weighted down, and she ignored the urge to use her other hand to lift her arm. Her feet were beginning to tingle as life flowed back into them. With the window closed the breeze had ceased but it was still chilly.
She sat down and reached for a dish. Lysle looked at her with a brow raised but she silently dared him to tell her she could not eat. The scent of eggs and toasted bread nearly knocked her over and she felt faint with hunger. Forcing herself to take small portions she filled her plate rather clumsily.
The serving girl had left eating utensils for both her and Lysle and Rose noticed that there was a knife by her plate. Her breath hitched and her heart skipped a beat. Quickly she looked at Lysle to see if he had seen the knife. He was busy eating. Nonchalantly she put her napkin over it.
She ate while keeping one eye on the napkin-covered knife and one on Lysle.
The eggs were not the best she’d eaten but she shoveled them in anyway, thankful for the sustenance.
“Hurry and eat,” Lysle said, startling her from her thoughts. “We’ll be leaving as soon as we’re finished.”
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Could she trust the gift she’d been given?
Lysle pushed his plate away and scooted his chair back. “I mean it,” he said. “We’re leaving in a few minutes.”
“I’d like to change my gown and maybe wash up a bit,” she said.
“No need to change your gown.” He stood and headed for the door. “I will return in ten minutes and you will leave in the condition I find you in.”
He walked out, and for a few of those precious ten minutes Rose sat in shock. He truly had not seen the knife. She quickly slipped it from beneath the napkin. Where to hide it? She had no pockets to put it in, no boot to slide it in, no sheath to store it in.
Shuffling to the bed—her feet now had full feeling and the pain was uncomfortable—she grabbed the cord that Lysle had used to tie her hands overnight. Working quickly, glancing at the door every few moments, she used the knife to cut the cord. It was not a well-sharpened knife, and she cursed under her breath but eventually was able to saw through. She knotted the cord around the hilt, put her foot on the bed and lifted her skirt to tie the other end of the cord around her thigh.
She was lowering her leg and fluffing her skirts when Lysle walked in without knocking.
“Come,” he said, looking her up and down and wrinkling his nose.
No doubt she looked a fright. She had no idea how long she’d been in the same gown. She’d vomited on the hem. She’d been kidnapped in it and slept in it. Her hair was hanging down her back and in her way, and she wished that she’d had the presence of mind to use part of the cord to tie it back but she didn’t want to draw Lysle’s attention to the cord.
Meekly she followed him out of the room and down the stairs, feeling the comforting weight of the knife against her bare thigh and devising all sorts of ways to plunge it into Lysle’s black heart.
Chapter 32
“They’re leaving,” Will whispered from his prone position in the tall, brown grass a few yards from the inn that Rose and Lysle had been staying in.
Beside him Thom grunted as he watched the queen’s guards readying their mounts. There were six of them, just as Rabbie had said.
Six guards, Lysle and the carriage driver.
And Rose.
Except he had no idea what condition Rose was in. Would she be able to help when the time came?
Two of the guards rode out ahead. The carriage d
river took his position up top and grabbed the reins. So far they had not seen Lysle nor Rose and Will was tense, waiting to get a glimpse of her.
It had taken all his self-control to bunk down last night but much to his relief they’d resumed their trek to the inn at that point when late night turned to very early morning. They had found the inn easily by following Rabbie and Paden.
Will, Thom, John and Ewan had fanned out to reconnoiter and then had met back up to discuss what they had learned. There were no other safeguards around the inn, which told them that Lysle wasn’t concerned about being followed.
The guards had patrolled the small area around the inn two at a time and rotated out every two hours. Weak defense, but Will could understand that they were not worried about an attack. More than likely their orders were to make sure that Lysle and his bride-to-be arrived at his estate unharmed. An easy mission.
Thom had not discussed with Will any plans on how they were to get Rose back. Will had a few ideas of his own but realized that when he brought Thom, John and Ewan into this he had relinquished any authority over the situation.
Rose was their kin. He was an outsider.
It rubbed but he also understood.
And then Lysle stepped out of the inn, pulling on gloves, walking in long, hurried strides. He did not look up. He did not acknowledge his surroundings. A potentially deadly mistake on his part. His arrogance was amusing to Will.
Beside him Thom shifted. “That him?” he whispered.
“Aye.”
Another grunt that could mean anything. “Not a fighting man,” Thom said.
“Nay,” Will concurred.
He took his eyes off Lysle to search for Rose. She had not exited the inn and Will found himself holding his breath, waiting for her, every muscle tense just to get a glimpse of her, to reassure himself that she was unharmed.
And then there she was, and Will had to swallow a curse. Her father did not bother to swallow his.
Her hair was flowing down her back, the sun bouncing off the gold and red hues. Her gown appeared to be ripped and wrinkled but worse, she was limping.
“Bastard,” Will whispered.
She struggled to pull herself into the carriage while Lysle stood by and watched, not even attempting to lend her a hand.
“She’s hurt,” Will said.
“Aye,” Thom said. “But she’s alive and she can move. A little pain won’t hold her back.”
Will prayed to God that was so.
Lysle easily hopped up into the carriage behind her and reached out to slam the door closed. Almost immediately the carriage jolted forward. Two guards went with it while the remaining two stayed in the yard for about fifteen minutes before following.
Will released the tension in his shoulders and lowered his head to the ground to gather his thoughts and calm his anger.
Eventually John and Ewan and then Rabbie and Paden appeared.
“Easy enough to pick off the trailing guards,” John said. “Stupid move on their part to separate like that.” He shook his head at the guards’ foolishness.
“I don’t think they’re expecting trouble,” Will said.
“Rabbie and I will take care of the guards at the back,” John said.
“Ewan, you take Paden and ride hard to catch up to the front guards. That leaves the carriage and the guards with the carriage to me and Will. We’ll wait until you’ve come back to us and then we’ll attack the carriage.”
Will winced at the word “attack.” He did not want to put Rose in any more danger but knew this was the only way.
“We don’t know about the driver,” Will said. “He could be a guard as well.”
“Nay,” said Thom. “He’s just the driver. Trust me.”
Will decided to do just that instead of adding another worry to his plate.
They were planning on killing the queen’s guards and probably Lysle as well. These were treasonous acts, and the weight of what he was about to do was heavy on his shoulders. But he saw no other way.
John and Rabbie left and a few moments later Will saw them riding down the same road that the guards and the carriage had traveled. Ewan and Paden left a few moments later, staying well behind John and Rabbie.
Thom got to his feet slowly and studied the inn for a bit before heading toward it. Surprised, Will followed.
The proprietor saw them coming almost right away and was standing in the yard where the carriage had just left.
“Help ye?” he asked, keeping his eye on Thom and flicking a glance at Will.
“That carriage that just left. What can you tell me about it?” Thom asked.
The proprietor’s lips thinned, and his stance became defensive. “Paying customers. Nothing more. It’s probably best ye moved on.”
“It’s probably best that you answer my question.” Thom’s tone was conversational but the intent was clear. There would be trouble if the man did not comply.
Even still the proprietor seemed to think about it, and Will guessed that Lysle had paid him well for his silence.
A shot rang out and the proprietor’s eyes widened in fear.
“The woman,” Will said. “Tell me about her.”
His attention shifted to Will. “I don’t know her name or nothing. Her husband said she was with child and wasn’t feeling well. Asked for a room.”
Will’s stomach turned and he prayed that they weren’t too late, that Lysle had not wed Rose before arriving here.
“Did she appear sickly?” Will asked.
“She didn’t look good. Had a bruise on her face.” The proprietor’s gaze slid away and he looked at the ground in front of his feet.
“Any other marks on her?” Will asked.
“None that I could see…”
Will waited for more. “But? You think there were more?”
Thin shoulders came up in a big sigh. “She screamed something fierce when they went to their room. I thought somethin’ had happened to the baby. Like she was losing it or somethin’. But the screaming stopped and the gentleman came out not looking worried. I figured I was wrong. None of my business what they did in that room. She didn’t look happy when she went up the steps so maybe they were arguing.”
Will had to close his eyes for a moment to keep from shaking the man.
“Sarah, she’s my daughter,” the proprietor said. “When she took their breakfast up to them the room was freezing and the window was open. The woman was standing by the bed. Sarah said she didn’t look good but she ate her food. Or at least it looked like she did. All the plates came back empty.” He sounded defensive, as if he had to prove to Will that Rose was fine.
Another shot rang out and the proprietor flinched. “What in the hell is happening?” he whispered.
“None of your concern,” Thom said and walked away.
Will stood there for a long moment, wrestling with his inclination to hurt the proprietor for turning a blind eye to a woman in need and walking away like Thom had done.
There was no point in killing the man. He’d admitted to having a daughter so that meant there was probably a wife and other children around somewhere. Life was hard out here in the middle of nowhere and no doubt he had to scrape to put food on the table. In a way who could blame him when a large amount of coin was offered for his silence?
Lord knew that Will had offered poor, innocent people money for either their silence or for the information they knew. Desperate people did desperate things and while it didn’t make it right, Will understood.
He turned on his heel and followed Thom.
They met John and Rabbie as the two were coming back.
“Done,” John said.
Chapter 33
When Lysle entered the carriage he paused to consider Rose before settling into his seat. She was damned if she was going to lay on the floor this time. Not after the night she’d just spent.
Apparently it wasn’t a fight he wanted to engage in because he did not press the issue. The carriage moved for
ward, and Rose turned her face toward the window.
“My home is a few more hours away,” he said.
Rose did not acknowledge that he had spoken.
He kicked her shin and she turned her head to glare at him. “Don’t ever kick me again,” she said.
“Then acknowledge when I speak to you.”
“Oh?” she asked sweetly. “You were speaking?”
His lip curled and color crept into his face. “You are a bitch.”
She shrugged and turned back to the window, wishing with everything inside of her that she could be outside this carriage, back at the queen’s stables, petting Tyche and just spending time with Will.
Will.
She was not prepared for how much she missed him and up until now had refused to think about never seeing him again.
She’d thought she’d become accustomed to the eventuality of their departure but it had been so abrupt that she wasn’t nearly as prepared as she’d thought. She wanted to say goodbye, to look at his rugged face one more time.
She’d told him she loved him and she’d meant it. She would always love Will Sheffield. Always. She might one day marry and she might even love her husband but there would always be a part of her heart reserved for Will.
“We’ll wed as soon as we arrive.”
Jerked from thoughts of her love for Will and slammed back into the present and this hated carriage and the man she despised more than anything, Rose stared at him, unable to process the thought of being married to this monster.
“You are mad if you think I will marry you,” she said, using every bit of revulsion she felt in her words.
He grinned. “It is the queen’s wish and her will must be done.”
“Over my dead body,” Rose said.
Lysle looked over her body, his gaze sweeping across her face, her bosom, her legs. “That can be arranged.”
“Let’s not prevaricate,” Rose said, leaning forward to speak earnestly. “We both know that me being dead is the end result. You’ll wed me and I’ll die mysteriously and Mary’s and your problem will go away.”
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