"We do not carry rags with us," Osgar grumbled.
"Your shirt will do. Give it over."
The second Derek removed his hand so that one of them could gag her, she let out an ear-piercing scream. It was cut off quickly, the stinking shirt yanked hard across her mouth. The shirt was tied behind her head so tightly, she thought the corners of her mouth would surely rip open.
The moment the gag was secure, Derek shook her hard. Pain shot up her arms where he gripped her.
"Stop, Derek, before you break her neck!" someone warned.
"Do you think they heard her at the castle?" Osgar asked.
"They don't care what happens in the woods," Derek told him.
"Then why are you so angry?"
"We are far enough away from her men, but not if one has awakened and come after her."
"We should have killed them one and all," Osgar said disgustedly.
"There was no knight among them."
"And no sword among us but mine," Derek reminded them with contempt.
"Quiet! I hear something!"
Leonie heard it, too, growing louder by the second, the unmistakable sound of horses charging through the brush. Hope rose inside her, a living thing.
"You are saved for now, lady," Derek rasped angrily, "but I will make you pay for this later." To the others he ordered, "We cannot delay here now. Move quickly, but for God's sake do not make any noise."
"Derek, no," came an alarmed whisper. "There is the meadow to cross yet. We will be seen."
"Not if we wait by the meadow until all is quiet again. They will be spread out looking for her. If one comes upon us, we can kill him."
Leonie was propelled forward again. This time her arms gripped just above the elbows so that she couldn't reach up to pull out her gag. The other three men moved off ahead, but her struggle with Derek slowed him down. She tried jerking out of his hold, she tried stomping on his feet, she tried lifting her feet off the ground to pull him down. He was much stronger and none of it worked. He finally growled and hefted her up under his arm to carry her like a sack of meal.
She began feeling desperate again. The sound of hoof beats receded.
Oh, she would have given her life for a chance to call out!
Derek stopped near a wide clearing that cut through the woods and was exceptionally bright compared to the woodland on all sides of it. The other three men were crouched down by the edge waiting for her and Derek, alert, nerves taut.
"What have you seen?" Derek demanded, scanning the clearing.
"No movement, but I thought I heard another sound down the way."
"Who else heard it?" No answer came, and Derek grunted. "It is as I thought. They will not come this far afield to look for her. We have only to cross the meadow and we will be safe."
"Iwill not feel safe until we are rid of her. This was not such a good idea, Derek. Our usual prey do not have such large escorts."
They moved out, keeping close together. But they were not even halfway across the meadow when a horse and rider moved slowly out from the trees facing them.
"Tell me that is your lord, Derek." Dread filled the voice.
"Of course it is not. He is not such a large man. But do not panic now,"
Derek warned. "This is a full-armored knight. She had no such knight with her."
"Why does he sit there and stare at us?" Osgar asked uneasily. "Why doesn't he move?"
"Wait, he comes now," Derek cautioned. He set Leonie down and shoved her at the others. "Hold her. I may have to fight him."
"Youfighthim?"
"With your help, fool," Derek hissed just as the large destrier came abreast of them. "How may we serve you, my lord?"
"Show me what you have there."
"Just my lord's runaway wife. We are often sent to find her and bring her back. She is given to mental affliction."
"Strange. She looks so like my own wife. Of course, if I thought the lady of Kempston was being rough-handled, I would not like it."
Derek seemed to lose his tongue completely.
The large knight on the destrier eyed the rough man, waiting for him to speak.
"I think we are meeting the new lord of Kempston," Derek whispered.
"But the Black Wolf now has Kempston. You mean—"
"Yes. I think—I think this is his wife we have here."
"God's mercy, look at her eyes!" the third man cried. "She knows him!"
Osgar's brother started running before the words were out. The huge destrier cut off his flight in seconds, the flash of a blade felling the man.
The bloodcurdling war cry that followed set the other three to running, all in different directions. But it was only moments before the war-horse had run down two, the heavy sword following swiftly.
Osgar ran back the way they had come and would have escaped into the cover of trees before the destrier could cross the clearing, but another knight rode toward him from those woods and dispatched him with a spear.
Leonie could not move. The bodies of her four abductors were strewn around her, but she felt no relief. She was safe—yet not safe. A new ordeal was beginning.
"Finish here, Piers, and then send the men back to camp." As Rolfe spoke, more of his men rode into the clearing. "If one of those men is still alive, I want to know where they were going with her."
"Are you . . . ?" Piers began.
"I will be along shortly—with my wife."
Leonie had removed her gag, but she was too frozen with terror to speak.
Rolfe dismounted and came to stand before her. His face was hidden beneath his helmet, and she could not tell what he was thinking. Silence held her.
Finally, he asked, "Did they hurt you?"
How coldly formal he was! "They—meant to, but the sound of your horses frightened them." She looked directly up at him then, her eyes imploring. "My lord, I would speak with you—"
"Oh, we will speak, my lady. Do not doubt it."
Leonie gasped as he gripped her arm and propelled her toward his horse. He mounted, pulling her up into his lap. They rode off toward the woods, then—not toward camp, but away from it.
Leonie was in a misery of dread. She did not want Rolfe to hurt her.
But he was going to beat her. Why else would he take her away from the others?
It did not seem as if he would ever stop, and she wanted it over and done with. She was being allowed too much time to be overcome by her fear. The farther he took her away from the others, the worse became her imagined punishment.
They came to another clearing, the ruins of an old tower centered in it.
Rolfe rode toward this, stopping by the crumbling stones to set Leonie on her feet. The place was ominous, stark in the moonlight, but not as ominous as her husband dismounting. He removed his helmet and his gauntlets with slow deliberation. He moved toward her and stopped a foot away, his face hard.
"Who told you I was unfaithful?"
She started, disbelieving. The anger was there. His features were harsh with anger, too, his lips in a hard, straight line, but why was he asking such a thing?
"I . . . do not understand."
"What did you tell Henry?"
"I—" She gasped, recalling the conversation she had had with the king the day before. Anger rose swiftly. "He had no right to repeat my words!"
"The king's rights are not under discussion. Who told you I was unfaithful?" Rolfe asked again.
"No one had to tell me," she retorted. "Do you think I cannot see with my own eyes? Lady Amelia is not your ward. She was never your ward."
"She means nothing to me," he said swiftly.
"Is that supposed to set everything right?" Leonie cried. "A man will rut with the serving wench at his neighbor's house, and she means nothing to him, but that does not mean he is faithful to his wife! He is only more discreet than a man who keeps a mistress under his own roof—for all to see." She was close to tears.
"Damn me, Leonie, I have not touched another woman since we we
d!"
That only stirred her anger. "You touchedme!Have you forgotten you would have taken me to bed at Pershwick without knowing who I was?"
"So!" He looked at her hard, his eyes probing. "You still have not forgiven me for that."
"I mention it to prove the falseness of your words, my lord. Youhavetouched other women. The fact that Lady Amelia was still sharing your chamber when I was brought back to Crewel proves it."
He came toward her then with a low growl, but Leonie stood her ground. Even when his fingers bit into her arms and he lifted her off the ground so that they were face-to-face, she did not flinch.
"Tell me why it matters to you, madame." Rolfe's voice was dangerously calm. "Did you not say that you did not care how many women I bedded?"
"With discretion."
"I did not realize there were conditions," he said sardonically. "So you truly donotcare?"
A lump rose in her throat. "I do not."
He set her down and turned away. Leonie bit her lips, despising herself.
"Why do you want me to care?" Her voice turned soft.
"A wife should care," he said quietly.
"A wife should not be insulted with the presence of her husband's mistress."
Rolfe swung back around, his body taut with anger. "There was never any insult intended. I have told you she is no longer my mistress."
"If you wanted me to believe that, my lord, you would send her away."
"Do not ask that of me, Leonie."
She swallowed her pride. "Iamasking. If she means nothing to you, then you have no reason to keep her."
"She does not . . . want to go," he said tightly.
He might as well have struck her. "You put her wants above mine?"
She waited for him to speak, to, promise to send Amelia away. She waited, and when he did not speak, she said, "Then all you will have from me, Rolfe d'Ambert, is my contempt."
"I will have more than that, madame." He dragged her to him, his mouth coming down hard on hers, his kiss leaving her weak and shaken.
She could not let him overpower her again, not let him bring forth those impossible feelings.
"I hate you," Leonie whispered, the words sounding less than convincing even to herself.
"Then I will love you despite your hatred."
He kissed her again, and the traitorous flame leaped within her, drawing her to him despite everything. She fought and fought, and what she was fighting against wasn't him, but her own desire.
Chapter 36
AMANGY hound sniffing at their feet woke Leonie and Rolfe. Rolfe rose with a roar, pretending to charge the animal. The dog simply stared at him. Leonie giggled, and Rolfe turned on her with an indignant look.
"Perhaps you could justaskhim to leave?" she suggested, laughter in her eyes.
"You are welcome to try that," he said.
She did. The dog simply stared at her. "I think we should let him stay," she allowed.
Rolfe chuckled. "I think he will do just that."
He bent down and drew her head up for a light kiss, his eyes smiling warmly into hers. Then he left her to relieve himself, and Leonie lay back on his mantle with a lighthearted sigh. They had spent the night wedged between fallen rocks and what remained of a tower wall. She had slept contented and secure in Rolfe's arms, all of her anger and hurt washed away by his desire for her.
That was the one thing she could not discount. No matter what else stood between them, Rolfe did want her. His own anger couldn't even withstand his desire. And knowing that was a sweet balm to Leonie's pain.
For a while last night he made her believe that he loved her. She gloried in that feeling and all the other feelings he ignited in her. She blushed, recalling Rolfe's impatience. He undressed with her help, and she with his, and they made love slowly, savoring every moment, and each gentle caress. Never could she have imagined such a terrible day to end the way it had.
"Your blushes give your thoughts away, dearling."
Leonie turned redder and Rolfe laughed, delighted. He helped her to her feet and patted her backside in a blatantly possessive way.
"Go and do what you have to," he told her with a grin. "We have delayed here longer than anticipated."
She hurried off, still flustered. When she returned, Rolfe was readying his horse. His back was to her, so he did not hear her approach. She paused, hesitating. Anxiety was returning. It was inconceivable that Rolfe was going to dismiss the matter of her drugging him. She hated to think of his anger returning.
She took the few steps that brought her to Rolfe's back. Still he did not turn around, and she clutched her hands uncertainly.
"How did you find me so soon?" She tried desperately to sound casual.
"Inquiries produced results. You were seen leaving the main road.
Your direction was clear, so it was not difficult to find your camp, even after dark. I did not expect to find you missing from it, however."
He turned around slowly and eyed her.
"I—I am most grateful, my lord, that you found me when you did."
"Do you know where they were taking you?"
"To a castle nearby. To a lord who practices extortion by using torture." She shuddered. "I am certain you saved my life."
"They wouldn't have killed you, Leonie. Hurt you, but you are too valuable to kill."
"They didn't care who I was, or know my value. I'm sure of that."
"They would have known your value once you told them your name."
He said that so matter-of-factly, but what did he mean? Hers was not a name to be reckoned with. Then she recalled the reactions of the men when they realized who Rolfe was. Even the overconfident Derek had lost his courage when he realized he had taken the wife of the Black Wolf.
Leonie said reflectively, "I see now I was too isolated all those years at Pershwick. I had no idea such things could happen."
Rolfe grunted. "How could you not know? Your neighbor was one of the worst of that kind."
"Neighbor? Who do you mean?"
"Who else?" Rolfe said, disgusted. "Montigny and his son. No doubt his vassals were involved as well. It would help to explain why those vassals were so afraid to accept me. They undoubtedly thought I was there to seefulljustice done."
Leonie stiffened. "I do not believe it! I have known the Montignys all my life. Sir Edmond was a good neighbor, and Alain—"
"Do not mention the boy to me," Rolfe cut her off sharply. "And whether you believe it or not, Leonie, the Montignys were guilty of many crimes. They were careful. Their victims didn't know where they were taken, or who collected their ransoms. And of course those who were killed could not carry tales. But Henry has received complaints from the midlands for a long time. It was only recently that he had names to match to the crimes."
"It is unfair of you to malign a man who is dead and cannot defend himself."
"How do you think he died, madame? There were finally enough good men aware of his activities to swear against him. He was killed resisting his arrest. His son fled before he could be brought to trial."
"But none of this makes sense. Sir Edmond controlled all of Kempston.
What need had he of unlawful gains?"
Rolfe shrugged. "He had many more keeps in Stephen's day, keeps he was forced to dismantle. I suppose he resorted to unlawful means to recreate the wealth he was accustomed to. The man always lived extravagantly."
Leonie recalled hearing just how extravagantly Sir Edmond had lived.
She remembered, too, vague talk of things she had not wanted to hear about. Had those rumors been true? She found it hard to believe, especially of Alain. Alain's father may have been corrupt, but timid, fainthearted Alain? No.
But this was a poor time to begin an argument.
"Should we be going, my lord?" she said.
"I suppose Guy has been kept in suspense about his punishment long enough. Yes, let us go."
He mounted, then lifted her up onto his horse, holding her steady as they
began to move.
"What punishment? What has the master-at-arms done?" she asked.
"He put you in danger." The destrier moved into the woods.
She gasped. "But he only followed my orders!"
"That is not the point. You were in his charge. He knew better than to lead you off the main road. He is lucky I did not kill him last night. He will receive twenty lashes tonight when we reach Crewel, and he will be grateful that is all he will get. He knows he did wrong."
She was horrified. "I wish you would not punish him, my lord. No one must suffer for what was my fault." She was shouting over the horse's hoof beats.
"You can accept the blame, Leonie, and rightly so, but you will not interfere in my judgment. The man will be punished for his carelessness, and nothing can prevent that."
"What will be my punishment, my lord?" she asked.
"I hope you learned an important lesson last night."
"Should you not whip me as well?" she demanded. "I was just as careless as the master-at-arms."
"Do not tempt me, Leonie. You were more than careless," he said in a hard voice. "Because of you I nearly came to blows with the king."
Leonie groaned. "No."
"Yes. I called him a liar when he insisted you were not hiding under his protection."
"Sweet Mary!" Leonie lost her color. "I told Damian I was going to the king only to delay your following me. I did not think you would disbelieve Henry when he told you I was not there."
"Sir Piers swore he had not seen you leave Westminster Hall. If he had not realized half my men were missing and told me so, I would have torn Henry's hall apart looking for you."
"You—you did not really call Henry a liar, did you?"
"I did."
"God's Mercy, he will never forgive you! What have I done?"
"He has already forgiven me," Rolfe said a little less severely. "He is not an insensitive man. He allowed my behavior was understandable. He even told me of your conversation with him, to help me understand your behavior. I was furious, knowing you could tell Henry why you will not accept me, but you could not tell me."
There was a silence, and then he said, "Now I find it was not even the truth, what you told Henry."
"Itwasthe truth."