Terri Brisbin Read Free Page B

stood behind her at the Mass at court, knowing she was meant for him before she did and wanting no surprises when she was presented to him. Her voice, then raised in the singing of a hymn, was clear and strong and its purity had sent chills through him. Those same chills moved through him now as he listened in wonder as she sang softly to the ill horse. Though softer, there was no mistaking the voice of his betrothed.
    Lady Joanna of Blackburn was here in Silloth.
    Braden’s fists clenched, even as his jaws did, while he watched her tender care for the unfortunate horse. Dressed as a boy with her ankle-length black hair under some filthy hood and her womanly curves beneath a loose tunic and cloak, she soothed the animal. Tempted to step forward and end her farce, he knew he must make plans before claiming her. ’Twould be better, now that he’d found her alive and well, to gather his men, take her and leave this keep just before dawn. Once the gates opened, he could be gone from Silloth and Orrick’s lands without ever having to explain his reasons for being here and without risking interference from this local lord.
    Convinced of his plan, he waited for her own movements to cover his own and, with a care for silence, Braden walked down the aisle and slipped out of the stables. He returned to the keep and spoke to his men, preparing them tomeet him at the stables. The comfortable chamber, with its rope-strung bed and soft mattress, was a waste, for he slept not at all while waiting to spring his trap and catch his bride. When the first rays of light crept into the dark clouds of dawn, he was already dressed and standing next to the stables.
    Two of his men soundlessly guided their horses from the stalls and readied them for a quick escape. Another two stood guard at both of the doorways to the stables and one more protected his back as he crept nearer and nearer to the woman who had thwarted him. As everyone took their positions, Braden knelt down at her side and thought on how best to accomplish this without alerting Silloth’s lord and guards to his actions.
    “Joanna,” he whispered into her ear as he straddled her sleeping form. When her eyes flew open and focused on him, he covered her mouth with one hand and encircled her neck with the other. “Say not a word. Make not a sound and you might live through this.”
    Her quickly indrawn breath and immediate thrashing about told him that she recognized him even in the darkened stables. He grasped her neck tighter and hoped she would realize that her struggles were useless. Fearing that he would hurt her, he leaned closer.
    “Cease!” he said harshly. “Come, we must leave now.”
    One of his men whispered a warning about the village waking for the day and his attention strayed from the woman beneath him for a brief moment. When he turned back to pull her to her feet, he was met with the sharp end of a deadly looking dagger. Before he could stop her, she had shoved the dagger through his tunic and stopped just before reaching the part of him that would be needed to make sons.
    “Truly, lady, you task my patience. Once we arrive in Wynwydd, I will show you what such behavior will cost you.”
    Their stalemate surely lasted for an eternity—he did not move his hands, or any other part of him, and she kept a firm pressure against the blade. Finally, he gathered his thoughts together and squeezed her throat harder for a second. As she reacted to it, he rolled quickly from her, letting go of her mouth and neck and grabbing for the dagger. Twisting her arm and hand until she released her grasp on it, he flung it as far as he could. Climbing to his feet, Braden dragged her with him. When they stood, his man retrieved the dagger and held it out to him.
    “I wish not to gag you and truss you up like a goose for the table, but will if need be.” He watched as she staggered to her feet, leaned over and braced her hands on her knees and gasped for breath. “If Lord