A VOW TO KEEP (The Vengeance Trilogy) Read Free

manor was relatively small, Royce thought the lack of guards reeked of laziness. To keep the things he had, a man had to hold on with both hands. And sometimes even that wasn’t enough.
    A woman emerged from the manor gate and caught Royce’s attention. She wore a fine cloak, her veil fluttered in the light breeze, and she carried a basket over her arm. From her bearing and attire, she appeared to be a lady. No maid accompanied her, but a small boy walked by her side, dragging a stick behind him. After a few words with the soldiers, she bent down to speak with the boy then turned and pointed.
    Royce’s breath halted when her finger aimed directly at him. How could she have spotted him?
    He released the breath in a whoosh when she kissed the boy’s cheek and left him standing guard with the men-at-arms, his stick raised and ready. She hastened down the path that skirted the forest and led to the small village nearby, taking her directly past him.
    Royce remained concealed behind the thick trees as she hurried by. The brief description he’d been given left him little doubt that she was indeed the one he’d come for but had not prepared him for her loveliness. Her white veil framed an elegant face blessed with alabaster skin. Her full lips were a deep red that drew a man’s eye and his thoughts toward more pleasurable pursuits. High cheekbones and dark brows emphasized large, amber-colored eyes, a color familiar to him.
    He stilled as she glanced at the trees where he hid. Her brow creased and her steps slowed as if she could feel his gaze. She perused the area more closely then continued on her way.
    Royce could see why his uncle, Lord Tegmont, was said to covet this woman. By the look of her father’s holding, her dowry would be small, but the lady herself was a prize for certain. It would give him great pleasure to snatch her from his uncle’s grasp and prevent their marriage. The thought of his uncle’s rage made Royce smile. If halting the wedding disappointed the lady, so be it. Her feelings were not his concern.
    He needed to move farther from the guards before he took action so followed her at a distance, curious to see where she went in such a rush. Surely, she’d return home before nightfall, and that meant he wouldn’t need to find a way into the manor to fetch his quarry after all, though he’d come prepared for a fight. This would be much easier than he’d hoped.
     
    ***
     
    Alyna glanced over her shoulder as she hurried toward Sarah’s cottage, unsure what caused her unease. She’d walked this path many times before and never had a worry. Nicholas was safely occupied on guard duty and out of Enid’s way. The maid had enough to do with the packing.
    Most likely her nervousness of what lay ahead this evening caused her concern. She needed to complete this one last errand and then all would be ready for their escape.
    “Lady Alyna,” called Sarah, the miller’s wife, from the distant door of her cottage, waving madly as though Alyna might not see her. “Good evening to you.”
    Rather than holler across half the meadow, Alyna merely returned the wave until she drew closer. “And to you, Sarah. Beatrice told me your stomach is ailing you.”
    The sturdy woman sighed as she laid a hand on her middle. “Indeed, my lady. I hated to bother you, but I’ve been miserable all the day.”
    “I’m pleased to help.” A sliver of guilt shot through Alyna. Who would help Sarah and the other villagers the next time they felt unwell?
    “We’re blessed to have you,” Sarah insisted as she led the way into her small cottage. “Why, you’re as skilled with those herbs as your sainted mother.”
    Alyna smiled, pleased by the compliment. She’d spent many pleasurable hours studying her mother’s herbal journal in the past four years, preparing remedies, and experimenting with poultices. She was proud of how many people she’d helped. There was much wisdom in the journal, and not all of it pertained to