Noble Knights Historical Romance Collection

by Jody Hedlund

  “If you’re here to rob me again, Captain,” I said, moving back into the corner of my seat as far away from him as possible, “then I’ll have you know that I actually hide most of the silver in a secret compartment on the underbelly of my carriage. You might as well take it since you seem so intent upon having it.”

  The captain reached past Lillian, who plastered herself to her seat. His fingers clamped around my upper arm, and he hauled me forward, leaving me little choice but to follow him out of the carriage or be dragged forcibly.

  My insides quivered. I had the feeling this encounter with Captain Foxe wasn’t going to end quite the way the first one had. But for my own safety and for Grandmother’s, I had to keep a level head. “I wasn’t planning on using the silver anyway,” I continued, trying to keep my voice from trembling. “After all of that fighting this past week, you probably want the silver for that now long overdue respite that you and your fellow bandits have been longing for. Perhaps a trip to the coast? To the beach?”

  As I stepped out of the carriage onto the rutted forest road where several other cloaked riders waited, I tried to straighten and pull away from the captain. Before I had the chance to figure out how to escape, he yanked a heavy grain sack over my head and then pinned my arms behind my back, twisting them so painfully I cried out and almost fell to my knees.

  I could hear Grandmother protesting in the carriage, demanding that the men release me at once. But she seemed too far away already, too distant to be of any help.

  “You may have gotten away before,” Captain Foxe growled as he wound a rope around my wrists. “But you won’t get away so easily this time.” He jerked the binding until it burned through my gloves. Then he shoved me forward, causing me to stumble in my blindness. I tripped over something—a stick or rock—and without my hands to brace my fall, I fell hard onto my knees. At the impact, my skirt ripped and the flesh in my knees sliced open.

  Captain Foxe hoisted me back to my feet and cackled. “It’s past time to kill the witch.”

  Chapter

  21

  “I’VE BEEN SCOURING THE BOOKS ALL NIGHT.” I GINGERLY returned a brittle parchment to the stack on my bedside table. “And I haven’t found any mention of additional witch tests.”

  The duke sat in the chair next to my bed, another book open on his lap. He’d been sitting with me since dawn. His scribes had read all night, just as I had. But we hadn’t discovered anything yet.

  “Why don’t you take a break and get some sleep,” the duke suggested without glancing up from the page before him.

  I shook my head and reached for the next book. I’d only stopped to let the physician change the bandages on my wounds and to allow my servants to reposition me so that I could read. I hadn’t even halted to break my morning fast. I didn’t know how I could eat until I found some way to clear Sabine of the charges of witchcraft.

  The duke had been right, as usual. Sabine would have to suffer the consequences of being labeled a witch. For as long as she lived, people would shun and fear her. Others might even try to harm her. The best way I could protect her wasn’t by locking her away, but by setting her free. To do that, I had to find a way to prove she was innocent.

  A knock sounded on the door.

  “Tell whoever it is that we can’t be disturbed,” I instructed the servant who rushed to answer. “Unless, of course, it’s Lady Sabine.”

  I was surprised by how intensely I missed her. She hadn’t returned to my chambers since the duke’s visit yesterday, and I couldn’t stop thinking about the possibility of resuming our conversation right where we’d left off. We’d been in the middle of discussing kisses, but rather than discuss them, I wanted to claim another one.

  Maybe I’d call the castle priest to my chamber and marry her right here. Today. Then no one would be able to stop me from kissing her all I wanted.

  From the doorway, I heard the servant arguing with Derrick and Collin, and I stifled my disappointment that Sabine wasn’t with them. “It’s all right,” I called to the servant. “They aren’t as good looking as the guest I’d been hoping to see, but they can come in anyway.”

  Collin flashed me a grin as he strode across the room. “At least we’re better looking than you.”

  “At the moment, I imagine that’s very true.” I had no doubt I was battered and bruised over most of my body. “I still can’t fathom what your wives see in the two of you.”

  “At least we can keep a good woman when we have one,” Collin teased again as he crossed the rushes toward my bed.

  “I’ll keep Lady Sabine,” I said with a grin, my mind turning back to the kisses I would most definitely give her today when she showed up. “Do not fear on that score.” Although a tiny niggling of anxiety still nestled at the back of my mind. She was a very forgiving woman. She’d been at my side when I woke yesterday. But that didn’t mean she’d forgotten about how I’d treated her when she’d taken off her glove and I’d seen her purple skin for the first time.

  Derrick followed upon Collin’s heels. His expression was much more serious. “I suppose that’s why she rode out of here with her grandmother and all her belongings not too long ago.”

  My pulse ceased beating. “Rode out?”

  “I inquired of several servants who helped load her carriage,” Derrick said. “They claim she is returning home.”

  Panic rushed into my heart. “Did she say why?”

  “No one knows,” Derrick answered.

  Inwardly, I groaned. I should have asked for her forgiveness immediately yesterday, instead of teasing her about kissing. I sat up, pushing against the cushions of pillows that had held me in good stead the past hours of reading. Now they were my enemy, and I wrestled to free myself from their comfortable grip.

  “I need to go after her.” I shoved aside the book I’d been studying and let it fall onto the floor. Under normal circumstances, I never would have allowed one of the ancient texts to touch the ground, much less fall upon it. But suddenly all I could think about was finding Sabine. Maybe she’d never be able to forget about what I’d done to her, but I had to ask her to give me another chance. I had to tell her I loved her.

  The wound in my leg burned as I shifted it against the mattress. Before anyone could protest or stop me, however, I lurched upward until I was standing. After the loss of blood and being in bed for two days, I was weaker than I’d realized, and my legs began to buckle.

  “I don’t think you’re going anywhere,” Collin said, catching me, “except back into bed.”

  I shoved away his hands and attempted to straighten my limbs. Again the muscle in my thigh protested with flames of pain. I gritted my teeth and fought back a wave of nausea.

  “Derrick and I will ride after her and deliver a message,” Collin suggested, reaching for my arm.

  This time I pushed him in the chest and shoved him out of my way. “I’m going myself, and you better not try to stop me.”

  I could see Derrick and Collin exchange glances. The duke had finally looked up from the book on his lap and was watching our interaction.

  “I’ll be fine,” I said. “It may take a few minutes for my limbs to loosen and for me to regain some strength. But I will.”

  Derrick and Collin both looked to the duke as if awaiting his verdict in the matter. Even though I respected the duke, I wasn’t planning to let him dictate what I could or couldn’t do today any more than I was them. I took a wobbly step forward, attempting to prove I was ready—except that I truly was as weak as a foal just out of its mother’s womb.

  “We’ll accompany you,” Derrick said, and Collin nodded his assent. “And move slowly.”

  “Even a slow pace may reopen the wounds,” the duke warned. The bandage around my thigh was pristine white, but the wound was deep, had sliced muscle, and would take time to heal. Time I didn’t have.

  Three pairs of eyes focused on me. Not one of them thought I was being wise at the moment, but panic continued to mount in my chest, givin
g me a surge of energy. “I can’t let her leave without at least trying to persuade her to stay.”

  First Derrick nodded, then Collin bowed his head. From the resignation in their eyes, I knew they understood. They’d both almost lost the women they loved. They’d had to fight to win them. Now it was my turn to do the same.

  I didn’t know how I’d win Sabine back. But at the very least, I’d attempt it with my two faithful companions by my side.

  Captain Foxe half dragged, half hauled me through the thick bramble. I wasn’t sure where he was taking me. If he thought to burn me, why not tie me to a tree and set it on fire?

  By the time he stopped, I felt torn and bruised in a hundred places.

  From the crackling of branches and the murmuring of voices, I realized the other bandits had followed Captain Foxe.

  I didn’t know what they planned to do with me, but I felt strangely calm. I couldn’t fight these armed warriors. I couldn’t say anything more than I already had to try to convince them that I wasn’t a witch. I was too isolated to call for help. Even if another traveler came upon my carriage and Grandmother informed them of what had happened, how would they find me?

  I had to face the truth: I was going to die.

  Captain Foxe removed the sack from my head, and I sucked in a breath of swampy air. I found myself standing precariously close to the edge of a large pond surrounded by a thick forest of elm, spruce, and birch. Lichen wrapped around the trunks of many trees, making the green even brighter and more lush. Long reed grass and cattails surrounded the pond, with dragonflies buzzing in and out of water lilies. It would have been a beautiful spot if it was not to be the place of my demise.

  “Is it deep enough?” asked the cloaked man behind Captain Foxe.

  “Out in the middle,” said the captain.

  Suddenly, I understood what they were planning to do. They meant to toss me into the water and drown me. Most people believed that if a woman sank like a stone, she was innocent, but if she bobbed to the surface, then she was a witch. It was thought that witches spurned the sacrament of baptism and that as a result the water would reject their body and prevent them from submerging. Either way, I was unlikely to survive. Whether I sank or floated, I would suffocate before they pulled my body out of the water.

  I doubted Captain Foxe cared whether I sank or floated. He believed I was a witch and wanted me to die.

  At a tug and sharp rent at the back of my bodice, I clutched the layers of my skirt. “No,” I said. “I’ll swim with my gown on.”

  But the captain slashed again at the lacings that held my bodice together. “Of course you’ll sink in the heavy garment,” he scoffed. “And how would that prove anything?”

  “It won’t prove anything either way. Except that you’re ignorant and prejudiced.”

  I winced as he sliced again, the blade coming all too close to my skin. The material loosened and he pulled it away. His knife ripped into my skirt next. The force nearly jerked me to the ground. Within moments, he’d divested me of my garments down to my hose and chemise, so that I was left standing only in the white linen underdress. And my gloves. Apparently Captain Foxe didn’t want to see the purple stain again.

  The coolness of the glen penetrated my chemise and made me shiver. The June warmth and the sunshine overhead didn’t seem to reach me anymore. If anything, the coldness seeped into my blood as I watched one of the other bandits drag a rowboat out from among the reeds.

  “Move, witch,” Captain Foxe growled and shoved me forward. I stumbled into the water, which was still frigid from the spring rains. My slippered feet sank into the muck. He roughly hauled me over the side of the boat until I flopped, half drenched, onto the floor. Then he climbed into the prow, settled himself on the bench, and picked up an oar. At his command, two of the other bandits pushed the boat away from the bank.

  As I watched the cattails and reeds grow distant, despair mingled with anxiety. How would Grandmother live without me? I was the only family she had left. What would she do now?

  And what about Bennet? Would he miss me once he learned of my death? I hadn’t said good-bye to him. At the very least, I wanted to bid him farewell before I died.

  I tugged on the rope binding my wrists, but couldn’t budge it. Twisting to free myself would be useless. I glanced frantically around for a weapon that I could use against Captain Foxe. The other oar was wedged in the stern.

  Could I reach it and somehow use it to knock him out?

  I shifted in the puddle of water that had formed around me. With my gaze trained on the captain’s back, I inched backward until my fingers closed around the long wood handle. I gripped it tightly, trying to determine how I would swing it around. With my hands bound, I could barely lift the oar, much less wield it as a weapon.

  Captain Foxe bent over the side and stared down into the water. It was dark and muddy. But apparently he was satisfied with where we were, for he dropped his oar and turned to face me.

  At the sight of the oar in my hands, he barked a short laugh. “Go ahead. Try to hit me.”

  “Believe me, I’m trying.” Was there nothing more I could do to win my freedom?

  He jerked me to my knees and began to wind another rope around my waist. “Don’t worry. We won’t leave you to be fish bait at the bottom of the pond.”

  “Thank you. What a relief. You might as well pull me to shore and let the wolves feast on my carcass instead. They’ll probably find it much more enjoyable.”

  “Oh, don’t you worry, witch. I’m planning to deliver your body back to the witch-lover himself.” Captain Foxe tugged the knot tightly at my waist before using it to pull me to my feet. I wobbled but had nothing to hold on to.

  “I see,” I said, trying to balance myself and keep from falling out of the boat, although I didn’t know why I should bother. “And what has Sir Bennet done to you to deserve your contempt?”

  Captain Foxe’s smile was thin and feral as he looped the other end of the rope to a brass ring on the side that was used for holding an oar. “Lord Pitt promised me the spoils of Maidstone. Bennet’s interference with his brother cost me a fortune. He’s an arrogant fool, like most young noblemen. And this will be the lesson he needs to teach him not to cross me.”

  “So this isn’t really about me being a witch,” I said. “It’s more about your petty dislike of Sir Bennet?”

  “It’s about both.” He propelled me to the edge of the boat, which began to tip precariously. “I’m getting rid of a witch and the woman Bennet loves at the same time.”

  Before I could defend Bennet and plead my cause, Captain Foxe pushed me hard enough that I found myself flailing and falling over the edge. My back hit the water first. I dragged in a breath at the icy splash that rapidly enveloped my body, legs, and arms. For just a fraction, I floated with my head above the surface. But as my chemise and hose became saturated, I began to sink.

  I gasped one last deep breath before my head submerged, and the dank, murky waters closed about me. I felt my weightless body dropping until slimy rocks brushed against my hands tied at my back. I’d reached the bottom. Even though I kept my eyes open, I couldn’t see anything.

  The darkness was as black as a grave. My grave.

  Chapter

  22

  AT THE SIGHT OF THE DOOR HANGING OPEN ON SABINE’S immobile and silent carriage, I spurred my horse to a canter. Although my saddle was padded with numerous blankets, my thigh wound had ached the several miles we’d ridden at a slow trot from Maidstone. Now at the increased pace, pain shot through my entire leg.

  “Slow down,” Derrick said, nudging his horse to keep up with mine. “Or you’ll rip open your stitches.”

  Off to the side of the rutted path, I saw Lady Sherborne, Sabine’s grandmother, kneeling next to the carriage driver who was sprawled in the thick grass. As I drew nearer, I could see that he was unconscious and that blood was smeared across his temple from a gash in his scalp.

  “Lady Sherborne,” I called.
>
  She looked up, her lined face pale, her eyes frightened.

  A sweeping glance over the scene told me the guard that had ridden with them had also been attacked. His body was several dozen paces ahead of the carriage, and he was face down and unmoving. Two maidservants huddled together near the carriage. Their eyes darted about the forest as if expecting another attack at any moment.

  The one person I longed to see more than anyone was nowhere in sight. My blood ran suddenly cold.

  “Where’s Sabine?” I demanded as I bore down upon them.

  “She’s been taken,” Lady Sherborne said in a hollow voice, one that echoed with despair. A haggardness to her features added wrinkles, making her look even older than she was. But it was her hopelessness that chilled me the most.

  The chill in my blood went straight to my heart and froze it with dread. My fingers were already around the hilt of my sword, unsheathing it in a reflex that was almost as natural as breathing. “Who took her? And where?”

  “They went that way.” Lady Sherborne barely had the strength to nod toward the thick forest.

  The slight direction was all I needed. I kicked my horse into action and plunged into the thicket. I didn’t wait to see if my companions followed. I could only think of one thing—I had to rescue Sabine before it was too late.

  I urged my horse much faster than I would have under normal circumstances. I knew the beast would suffer for the vicious charge through the brambles and low branches. And I knew my battered body would suffer for the rough ride as well. For now, however, I went into warrior mode—a focused, driven, demanding need to fight.

  Within seconds of following, I realized where Sabine’s captors had taken her. At that second, fear flared in my chest like a roaring dragon. I almost yelled out my bitter fury. They’d taken her to one of Maidstone’s largest fishing ponds. They were planning to drown her.