Beloved Abductor Read Free Page B

approached the castle walls. Cold despair, heavy as iron, weighed on her spirits. Yet she held her head high, despite knowing that she was a prisoner once more. She clattered ahead of them over the drawbridge and on beneath the stone archway of the gatehouse, ignoring the men’s presence. Unaided, she dismounted, giving the horse into the hands of a young groom, who stood gaping at her.
    ‘Be kind to him,’ she called before moving in the direction of her bedchamber. Suddenly she realised that the courtyard was busier than it should be at that hour in the morning. What had happened in her absence? Men were dragging lances and shields from the store beneath her chamber. The air was filled with shouts and the rumble of wheels as sacks of flour and haunches of meat were loaded into carts. As she ran a hand jerkily down one of her braids, her spirits rose slightly. It seemed that her cousin was on the move again. She forced a path between the bustling men towards the stairway that led to her chamber, intending to change her clothing before she confronted Philip. Reaching the foot of the steps, she bunched her skirts in one hand and ran up, wondering how much grace she would be allowed before he demanded her presence in the hall. By the time she had pushed open the heavy wooden door, her breath was coming in gasps. She stepped over the threshold, and came to a halt.
    ‘Well met, coz!’ The figure in the blue surcote dropped the scroll he had been reading on to the chest at the foot of the bed.
    Felicia put out a hand to the door jamb to steady herself. It was quiet, after the noise in the courtyard and she stood there for several moments, her eyes not leaving Philip’s face. He stretched out a hand and plucked a leaf from her veil. ‘Where have you been? Not romping in the hay, I hope?’
    ‘You jest,’ she said lightly, forcing down her fear. ‘Haymaking is not until the end of June—as you would know if you spent more time on your own manor!’ She backed away, intending to leave the chamber, but he grabbed her sleeve and jerked her to a halt.
    ‘Do not play games with me! Your bed has not been slept in, nor were you to be found anywhere in this castle or its grounds this morning.’
    His nails bit into her skin through the fabric of her sleeve. She was uncertain whether the truth would perhaps serve her best. Fleetingly she recalled what her abductor had said about her cousin, and how he had looked when he had spoken of his mother’s rape and death. Then, without fully understanding why she did so, she lied.
    ‘I have been somewhat anxious about my complexion lately,’ she murmured. ‘I rose early, wanting to wash my face in the dew.’ Her voice faltered as his eyes gleamed wrathfully. She noticed that his jowls were just beginning to thicken and there were pouches beneath his eyes. How had she ever considered him handsome? Or ever believed herself in love with him? The memory of a lean face and compelling grey eyes came to mind even as Philip’s fingers tightened on her arm.
    ‘You lie! You have a lover, haven’t you?’ Felicia caught her breath as his fingers pinched her flesh cruelly. ‘I left you too long alone after Matilda’s death, answering Montfort’s bidding.’
    ‘I do not!’ she shouted. ‘You are hurting me, Philip!’ She stamped on his foot. ‘I am not a serf to be treated so,’ she added in a furious undertone, her control snapping.
    ‘Why, you bitch!’ His mouth twisted unpleasantly, and he hit her across the face.
    Felicia fell back against the chest, stunned. The taste of blood was in her mouth and her ears were singing. Never had he hit her so hard before. Squeezed and pressed as though he were playing some game with her, but never this. She now realised that she was in real danger.
    ‘I shall treat you in any way I wish,’ he declared, leaning over her, his hands clamping on her shoulders. ‘Your father and brother can no longer protect you. Always I regretted Mark being