Temptress Read Free Page A

ability to keep a secret.
    “What kind of man is he? Another huntsman? A soldier? A merchant attacked by thugs?” Bryanna’s imagination was beginning to run away with her. “Perhaps Isa’s right. Mayhap he’s a spy, or worse. A henchman for—”
    “Stop!” Morwenna held up a hand and cut off her sister. “I know not who or what he is yet, but I will as soon as I speak with him.”
    “I’ll come with you.”
    Morwenna sent her a look guaranteed to intimidate even the boldest of men. “Later.”
    “But—”
    “Bryanna, let the captain of the guard question the man, determine if he is friend or foe, allow him to be seen by the physician and get some rest, and then if he awakens and I think it’s appropriate, you may see him.”
    “You think it’s not safe?” her younger sister challenged as her eyes sparkled with excitement.
    “I don’t know,” Morwenna said, realizing belatedly that she’d used the wrong tack, that she was only whetting Bryanna’s appetite for adventure. Exasperation tainted her words as she said tersely, “We’ll wait. That’s all.”
    “But—”
    “I said, that’s all!”
    “You cannot tell me what to do!”
    Morwenna lifted one black eyebrow, silently challenging her sister. “I have no time for this.” She turned quickly and made speedy tracks along the hallway, leaving her younger sibling pouting as she leaned against the doorframe of her room. Morwenna felt Bryanna’s rebellion seething behind her but ignored it. Let the inquisitive girl stew in her own juices. So what if she was angry? Bryanna was always getting into trouble.
    Just like you, her conscience reminded her.
    “Bother and broomsticks!”
    She heard voices floating up the staircase and scurried down the two flights of steps. Smoke from recently lit rushlights touched her nostrils, and the aromas of sizzling meat and baking bread wafted from the kitchen and through the labyrinthine hallways of the keep. Servants were scuttling from one chamber to the other, carrying laundry, cleaning grates, sweeping stairways. Candles were being replaced and lit, and they offered a bit of warm light on this chill winter day.
    As Morwenna reached the first floor and stepped into the great hall, the main door was thrown open. Several soldiers hauled a stretcher upon which a man, or what was left of him, lay unmoving.
    Morwenna’s breath stopped at the sight of him. Though she’d warned herself that he would be difficult to gaze upon, she hadn’t realized how fiercely he’d been attacked. His face had been pulverized and was now swollen and bruised, blood crusting over the wild gashes upon his cheek and forehead. Dirt and leaves clung to hair as black as obsidian, and his eyes were mere slits cut into puffy lids that were varying shades of purple and green.
    His clothes were matted with soil and blood, his tunic slashed to reveal his bare chest and recent bloody gashes that were still raw.
    Morwenna’s stomach turned over.
    “By the gods!” a horrified voice behind her whispered. “Is he alive?”
    Morwenna’s heart sank. Turning, she spied her sister standing on the stairs between the first and second floors. Bryanna had tossed a rust-colored tunic over her chemise but hadn’t bothered with shoes. Standing in her bare feet, she shivered and gaped at the scene in the large room below. One hand was raised to her mouth; her eyes were round, her skin as white as alabaster.
    “Of course he’s alive!” Morwenna said.
    “Barely,” one soldier muttered. “Poor bastard.”
    Bryanna’s face twisted. “He looks horrid. Dead.”
    Morwenna snapped, “Didn’t I tell you to go back to bed? Leave us!”
    Having seen enough of the gruesome display to satisfy her morbid curiosity, Bryanna rapidly made the sign of the cross over her chest and then raced barefoot up the stairs as if the devil himself were chasing her.
    Good! Morwenna was in no mood to deal with Bryanna’s histrionics while attempting to calm everyone.
    The