by Alexa Aston
“Now her hands.” The soldier gripped his prisoner’s waist tighter. “Hold ’em out.”
Gillian did as instructed, her arms shaking badly. Taking a second coil, Nan looped it around her the girl’s wrists and knotted it in place with the same distinct knot.
The one that would allow her friend to escape.
She only hoped they would be taken to the same place and left together. Only then would Nan be able to reveal to Gillian how to slip the knot. She doubted the girl knew anything about the trickery. The fool kidnapping them certainly didn’t. It helped that he’d kept his eyes on Nan the entire time and not what she was doing.
“Sit!” the man barked at her.
Nan plopped on the ground, her eyes never wavering from his. He started to release Gillian but the girl swayed. The soldier grabbed her elbow to steady her.
“Take a length of rope and tie your own ankles. Firmly. No tricks.”
She reached over and took another piece of rope from the pile. Keeping her eyes on him, she wound it around her ankles, making sure she knotted it in back just in case he saw what she did. Hal had made Nan tie this knot a thousand times over the years. She could do it in her sleep.
Glaring up at him, she asked, “And would you like me to secure my wrists, as well?”
His eyes narrowed in anger. He jerked Gillian, forcing her to the ground, and then strode to where the remaining strands of rope sat on the ground. Nan held her wrists up together as he lifted a coil.
“I don’t trust you,” he growled and flipped her to her belly, quickly yanking her arms behind her back and winding the rope around her captured wrists.
Nan did her best to strain against the rope so that it might have a slight bit of slack in it once he finished.
He left her facing the ground. She felt his forearm holding her legs down and heard material ripping. She glanced over her shoulder and saw he tore a strip from the linen smock she wore beneath her cotehardie. He did it four times, trimming the cloth with his dagger. Rolling her over to face him, he wadded up one of the strips and brought it close to her face. Nan twisted her head back and forth to avoid it but he grabbed her chin and held on firmly as he stuffed it into her mouth. Taking a second fragment, he flipped her back to her belly and tied the piece around her head to keep the cloth in place before she could spit it out.
The soldier moved away and gagged Gillian the same way before he sat both women up and placed them back to back. Nan watched him kneel beside each corpse and root around until he found their coin purses. Emptying them, he placed what he stole in his own.
“Don’t go anywhere,” he said and then burst out in laughter at his wit.
She reined in her temper. It was foolish to waste energy being angry. What was important was to watch and wait and learn everything she could in order to escape.
Nan looked at the two bodies of the men she’d slain. At least when faced with danger, she hadn’t hesitated. Though this situation seemed hopeless, she knew she could triumph—because she was a de Montfort. De Montforts never gave up and never gave in.
The man was gone for several minutes. She assumed he’d gone to fetch horses. More than likely, the plan would have been to overpower Nan and carry her to the horses. Now that their kidnapper was two men down and had an extra woman to manage, he was already having to improvise. She only hoped he would make a mistake because of the new circumstances he’d been forced into.
He returned riding one horse and leading another by its reins. A third horse had been tied to the second one. She realized that, although he would be leaving behind the bodies of the others, the horses were too valuable to do the same. They might also give away who their owners were and give Tristan a clue as to who had kidnapped them. Nan studied this man’s face because she never wanted to forget it. Lifting Gillian, he placed her atop the second horse and tied her hands to the horn with the remaining rope.
“I’ll lead your horse, my lady, but I would hold on if I were you. If you don’t, you’ll fall off. And I won’t come back for you,” he warned. “Best behave if you don’t want to be trampled.”
Nan fumed at how he taunted the poor, scared girl. She would enjoy seeking retribution against this bastard. Tears poured down Gillian’s face as she wrapped her fingers tightly around the horn.
He latched on to Nan’s elbows and pulled her to her feet. “You’ll ride with me. Even bound hand and foot, you’re the kind who would try to escape.” Picking her up by the waist, he took her to his horse and set her down, leapt into the saddle, and then yanked her up so that she sat sideways in front of him.
“My advice is that you conduct yourself like a lady,” he said into her ear. “Sit still and do nothing to anger me, else I’ll leave your pretty little friend behind. I’m sure you know what happens to a woman alone on the road. Especially a defenseless one tied hand and foot.”
Again, Nan thought of ways she would kill this monster.
He walked the horses, keeping a steady pace. Nan stared out at the countryside they passed but every now and then, she would glance to make sure Gillian was still in the saddle.
They rode by one castle that stood in the distance. She took in every detail so she would know where they’d been taken and the best places to hide as they made their way back to Leventhorpe. A second estate appeared with its castle on the right. Their captor led the horses toward it. A sick feeling grew in Nan’s belly. Without being told, she now understood where they would end up.
The gates opened as they approached and they trotted through. As they cleared them, a stout man with worry written across his face met them.
“What took so long?” he demanded. “And two of them? Where are—”
“Dead,” their abductor interrupted. He pointed to Nan. “She killed both of them.”
The soldier who’d met them eyed her with suspicion. “A woman?”
“Aye. She’s as deadly as any soldier I’ve ever seen.”
“Well, come on,” the other urged. “The baron isn’t happy. And his mood will grow even more foul when he hears that two of his men aren’t coming back.”
They were taken to the keep. Since she and Gillian couldn’t walk, the two men slung them over their shoulders. Nan watched the ground under them pass by as they entered the keep and ascended a flight of stairs. As they trod down the corridor, the men stopped in front of a door.
“Put yours in here for now,” the man who carried Nan ordered the second one.
She heard a door swing open and footsteps shuffling. She only wished she could have made eye contact with Gillian and tried to give her friend some hope before they were separated. The footsteps returned and the door closed.
“Guard the door,” her abductor ordered. Then the bouncing began again until they reached the end of the hallway. Knocking on the door, she heard a muffled voice bid them to enter.
The man crossed the threshold into what she guessed was the solar. He stopped after a few steps and eased her from his shoulder so that she faced him. Her belly ached from the jarring she’d been subjected to, not to mention the strain in her shoulders and back from being bound for so long.
“Set her in the chair,” a voice behind her said.
Her kidnapper lifted her at the waist and plopped her into a chair several feet away. He flashed an amused smile at her as he moved away.
Nan now faced the man behind her and Gillian’s abduction.
The Baron of Wycliffe.
He eyed her with interest, his lips curling in a smile that Nan wanted to slap from his cruel mouth.
“I had to bring another woman along,” her kidnapper said.
A flash of irritation crossed the nobleman’s face. “Why, Roland? I only wanted Lady Nan.”
The man she now knew as Roland shrugged. “It seemed the thing to do. I found them together and didn’t think it wise to leave the other behind. This one had already killed John and Fitch. She seemed to care about the girl and I needed something to use as leverage to control her.”
Lord Petyr’s jaw dropped. “John . . . and Fitch?” He glanced at Nan and back to Roland. “You are telling me Lady Nan killed both men?”
“Aye, my lord. So fast neither of them had time to react.”
A gleam entered the nobleman’s eyes as he appraised her. Without taking his gaze from Nan, he said, “Where is the other woman?”
“In a bedchamber three down from the solar,” Roland replied.
“Is she similarly bound?” asked Lord Petyr.
Roland nodded.
“Lady Gillian will be no threat. Free her ties and warn her to remain within the chamber. If she tries to leave, advise her ’tis Lady Nan who will suffer harsh punishment for her actions.”
“I left a man in front of her door,” Roland told the baron.
“He’s to remain until I dismiss him. Let him know.”
“Aye, my lord.” Roland exited the room, leaving her alone with the baron responsible for having her brought here.
Nan glared up at him as he came to hover over her. He reached out a hand and ran it through her long locks, making her regret that she hadn’t braided it earlier. Wishing to tempt Tristan into somehow loving her seemed so long ago.
The nobleman pushed his fingers through her hair again. She refused to flinch at his touch. His hands slid around and untied the knot at the back of her head. Pulling away the linen strip, he dropped it to the ground. Then he removed the wad of material from her mouth. Nan longed to spit in his face but her tongue felt thrice its size and the inside of her mouth was as dry as a desert. She tried to swallow but only coughed instead.
“You must be parched, my lady,” Lord Petyr said smoothly.
He went to a table and poured wine into a silver cup and brought it to her. His fingers clasped the back of her neck, holding her steady, as he raised the cup to her lips. Tilting it slightly, she drank greedily. Moments later, he returned the empty cup to the table.
More than anything, she wanted him to untie her aching wrists. They had been bound behind her back for over two hours, mayhap longer. She hurt from her neck and shoulders to her back and arms. Besides her agony, she was aware how this position thrust her breasts out. Nan felt defenseless as Lord Petyr’s gaze dropped to them now.
“So lovely,” he whispered as he ran his fingertips lightly along the curve that protruded from her cotehardie.
Nan remained frozen in place as he repeated the action along her other breast. Her cheeks flamed in humiliation.
Finally, she found her voice and rasped, “I will take pleasure cutting every finger from your hands and then your hands from your arms and then your arms from your body. And I promise that will only be the beginning.”
He brushed the back of his hand along her cheek. “You are magnificent. Conquered and still unbowed. Oh, we will enjoy our time together, Nan.” He paused. “I had thought merely to make you my whore since I already have an heir but now I think I will enjoy the challenge of taking you to wife.” He thought a moment. “We shall wed in the morning.”
This time, Nan spit in his face. His shock turned to laughter as he wiped the spittle away with the back of his hand. “I like your spirit but you will need to be broken, my dear. I will mold you into what I need.”
“You cannot force me to wed you,” she proclaimed. “I will refuse to say the words.”
“You will.” His eyes darkened. “Or I will slit Lady Gillian’s throat. She means nothing to me.” His evil smile sent a chill through her. “I would deflower her first. In the center of the great hall. In front of all of my men as they cheered me on. You would be there to watch the spectacle, my dear. Then I would let every man present line up to take their own turns with her, until they’d used her up. Who knows how many hours she might last?”
Bile rose in Nan’s throat. She forced it down. Looking at this fiend, she knew he would carry out his threat without a second thought.
“And if I agree to wed you?” she asked.
The nobleman stroked her hair. “I would let Lady Gillian go,” he said and then grinned. “After her brother paid a ransom for her release, of course. I wonder if I should make that ransom your bridal price?” he mused. “I suppose I must give Lord Geoffrey something for having taken you to wife.”
Nan thought that Tristan would kill this stupid man, as would her father and her brothers and the other men in her family who loved her. Lord Petyr Medford deserved to die a thousand times over. And Tristan would have to wait in line because Nan wouldn’t think twice about taking this man’s life if Tristan didn’t arrive by the time this so-called marriage was supposed to take place. Even if it meant killing the baron in front of the priest and facing eternal damnation because Nan was determined never to wed this fiend.
“So be it.” Nan dropped her head, trying her best to look defeated.
Silence lingered until he said, “Here, let me loosen your bonds.”
The baron grabbed her about the waist and brought her to her feet. Her breasts grazed against his chest, causing a ripple of revulsion to run through her. Pulling a knife that hung from the belt he wore, he spun her around and sliced through the rope that held her fast.
Nan had wanted to attack him immediately but savored the sweet relief of being unbound for a moment. Then as she tried to raise her arms, a burning sensation engulfed her. She cried out in agony as the blood began to flow through her arms again and found she couldn’t even lift them. Lord Petyr returned her to the chair and strode into his bedchamber while Nan tried to shake her arms and hands enough to regain feeling in them so she could remove the rope around her ankles.
Before that happened, the nobleman returned with something in his hand. He captured her wrists and wound a length of silk around them, tying it tightly.
“I know you are in pain from being restrained, so I will only bind your hands in front of you tonight.” He sighed. “The hour is late, my lady. Unfortunately, as I have grown older, I have found my cock won’t always rise when I am this tired, even in the presence of one as lovely as you are. So you may hold fast to your virginity a final night. I will get the sleep I crave and after our wedding tomorrow, I plan to have you. Over and over. I will fuck your brains out until you are worn into submission.”
Angry tears gathered in Nan’s eyes but she held her tongue. He bent and pressed a hot kiss against her brow, probably knowing she would bite his lip off if he came close to her mouth.
“Good night, my sweet Nan. Until tomorrow.”
The nobleman crossed the room and closed the door to his bedchamber.
Nan sent a swift prayer to the Virgin Mary.
The bastard didn’t even have the foresight to lash her to the chair. Smiling, Nan bent from the waist and lowered her fingers to her ankles—and the knot she herself had tied around them.
Chapter 20
Tristan waited patiently for Nan to return to the solar.
Until his patience wore thin.
She had left him at least an hour ago. Mayhap, she lurked in the corridor, waiting for him to leave. He couldn’t let her depart Leventhorpe with things so bitter between them. He had no idea what he would say to her but he decided to find her and try to make amends—if she’d let him.
Leaving the solar, he did not find her in the hallway. Thinking she might have taken refuge in Gillian’s bedchamber, he rapped on the door but received no response. Normally, Tristan would respect his sister’s privacy. But this time, he pushed the door open, only to find the room empty. He went down to the great hall but neither woman was present amidst those gathered there.
Stepping outside the keep, he saw it was growing dark. Concerned, he went to the stables, thinking Nan might have taken solace by visiting her horse. Again, he did not find her.
Tristan crossed the bailey and saw David heading toward him.
“Have you seen Gillian?” the knight called out as he closed the distance between them.
“Nay. Neither her nor Nan. I am growing worried,” Tristan admitted. “Nan and I . . . h
ad words. She took off. I wanted to find her and . . . apologize.”
“Mayhap they are together,” David uttered, but his tone said otherwise.
Just then, Drewett Stollars appeared, on his way to the barracks. They stopped him but the squire had seen neither woman.
“We’d best look for them,” Tristan said.
“My lord!” a voice called.
He looked up and saw Sir Dawkin approaching. The captain of his guard shuffled toward them awkwardly as he tried to hurry. It struck Tristan anew how much this man had sacrificed for Leventhorpe.
“’Tis time to close the gates for the evening but I’ve just been notified by the gatekeeper that Lady Gillian and Lady Nan are still outside the castle walls. I think you need to find them and bring them inside.”
“Nan does like to walk. Especially when she’s upset,” Drew said, flashing Tristan an angry look.
“And Gillian has accompanied her several times on her walks the past two weeks,” David added. “They have strolled through the meadow and into the forest, so Gillian has told me.”
“Then we search there first,” Tristan proclaimed. “Stay here, Dawkin. Close the gates behind us. I’ll return if we need more men.”
They debated a moment whether to take their horses or not and favored walking instead, especially since night had now fallen. All three men hurried through the outer bailey and out the gates, which slowly closed behind them at Sir Dawkin’s instruction.
“If they aren’t in the forest, they could be with Hugo, our falconer,” Tristan suggested. “I know Nan has gone to visit him a few times.”
“We should check the meadow first,” David said, worry now evident on his face. “It’s closer.”
They reached the meadow and crossed it, seeing no sign of either woman.
“I’ll walk the perimeter of the woods,” Tristan said. “David, you enter here. Drew, accompany me a little further down before you venture in. I’ll continue on to the large oak and go from there. We should convene in this spot after half an hour.”
David gave a curt nod and moved away from the other two. Tristan and Drew walked several minutes before Drew stopped.