The Heiress Bride. Susan Paul

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СКАЧАТЬ you think to wait until I thank you for deflowering me, then you’ll be waiting until Satan’s breath blows cold!”

      “I did not,” he said with growing anger, “deflower you! If you don’t quiet yourself, my sweet, I’m going to take you back to that bed and show you exactly what I did do!”

      “Get out!” she shouted. “And when you get downstairs I wish you to send up one of the friends who stood with you the other night. Surely one of them will be chivalrous enough to help a lady in plight.”

      “You are quite right, my lady. Any one of my friends would have been pleased to play the good chivalrous fellow for you, more fool they, but they are gone, having left yesterday morn, as I, myself, should have done and now wish to God that I had!” He drew in a breath, then said more calmly, “I fear you shall have to seek London on your own, as you did before you ever came to this place.”

      Rosaleen froze, staring at him in surprise, as though he had struck her, and then she did the inexplicable. Her face crumpled and her eyes filled with tears.

      “But I can’t.”

      Hugh looked away, thoroughly aggravated. “You were planning on going alone before,” he said gruffly. “If you’d let me leave you a little money you could still do it.” It was a damned lie, and he knew it. A woman on the open road, alone, was as defenseless to every rogue and knave who came her way as a newborn mouse might be against Amazon.

      She shook her head and spoke more to herself than to him. “I learned very well two nights ago that I will need protection. I must get to London. I must.” She turned and walked back to the bed, wringing her hands. Sitting on the mattress, she bowed her head and was quiet.

      Hugh cleared his throat. “Well, you’ll be fine. Goodbye, Rosaleen. Good luck.”

      She said nothing, only kept her head bowed. Her fingers laced and unlaced in a worried rhythm.

      “I said goodbye, Rosaleen. Godspeed.”

      “Yes, yes,” she mumbled tearfully. “Goodbye.”

      He opened the door and walked out, shaking his head to rid it of the memory of her sitting so unhappily on the edge of the same bed where he had spent some exceedingly enjoyable hours with her. Well, he’d be damned if he’d feel guilty about that, he told himself as he made his way down the stairs to the main room. She had enjoyed herself quite as much as he had, though she didn’t remember it yet. And he had considered it repayment for all the trouble he’d gone through. There wasn’t anything wrong with that. She was a beautiful girl; any other man would have used her much differently had he had the chance.

      The innkeeper was standing behind his serving board when Hugh walked in, and the little man smiled in greeting.

      “Well, sir, are you on your way, then?”

      “Yes, I’m on my way,” Hugh replied. “The lady is feeling better this morn, and would like some food to break her fast with. She also wishes the use of a brush and needs clean linen to cover her hair. See that she has all she desires.” He tossed the innkeeper a couple of gold coins and watched with disdain as the man pocketed the money with lusty greed.

      “That I will, my lord,” the man promised quickly. “The lady be well satisfied, I vow. Will there be anything else, my lord?”

      Hugh gave the man a considering glance and wondered how far he could trust him. The innkeeper was willing enough now, when a fighting man was present, but how would Rosaleen fare once he’d ridden away? Aside from that, he hated the way the man spoke of her, as though Rosaleen were naught but a whore flaunting herself as something better.

      He struggled for a long moment, telling himself sternly that he was going to regret this. If he only could have expelled the image of her sitting so defeated and miserable on the edge of that damned bed, he might have won.

      “The lady,” he said curtly, emphasizing the word, “will need a good mount. Is there anyone in this godforsaken village who owns a decent horse he’d be willing to sell?”

       Chapter Three

      “I am not taking you to London.”

      They’d been traveling together for only half a day, and already Hugh felt like strangling her.

      “You needn’t be so intemperate, sir,” Rosaleen stated from where she rode beside him on a tiny brown mare that made his own magnificent black steed look like some mighty and fabled creature. “It certainly wasn’t my idea that we go anywhere together. And if you think that escorting me to London will stop me from issuing a warrant for your arrest, you are sadly mistaken. I intend to go straight to the king regarding the matter of my ruin, and when he hangs you, I shall be at the very front of the crowd, cheering the executioner on.”

      Hugh gritted his teeth and wondered what sin he had ever committed to make him suffer this fate.

      “Rosaleen, I am going to say this one more time, and if you ever again mention the matter I shall make you exceedingly sorry. Listen well, lady. You are still a maiden. I did not ruin you. And I am damned well not taking you to London!”

      She perched as high as she could in her saddle, trying in vain to level herself with Hugh Caldwell.

      “Then what good do you do me?” she demanded. “I’ve told you over and again that I must get to London as quickly as possible, yet you refuse to tell me how taking me to your brother will help me in getting there. Don’t you understand anything? I must get to London!”

      “I understand perfectly, Rosaleen,” Hugh replied with what he felt was admirable calm, considering the measure of his vexation. “And I promise that my brother will be able to help you. He is a man of no small influence and can help you attain whatever goal you have. He could even get you an audience with King Henry, if you desired it.”

      With a sigh, Rosaleen settled back into her saddle and turned her eyes to the road. Hugh Caldwell was lying, there could be no mistake of that. What would such a man as he know about influence? His brother was probably a pig farmer, a big man in some unknown village who held a few dozen ignorant peasants in thrall. And as for Hugh Caldwell himself.. .well! She didn’t care how handsome he was or how handy with a sword. He was as bad as a pig himself. Worse, even, for he hadn’t the faintest idea of how to treat a lady.

      “How far away is this so esteemed brother of yours?” she asked, thinking that she must start planning anew her route to London.

      He sounded grim as he answered, “Two days’ ride. No more than that.”

      “You live with your brother, then? In the same village?”

      “No.” He kept his eyes on the road ahead. “I’ve not been home in over ten years. In truth, I have no home.”

      “Really?” Rosaleen’s womanly heart responded to the sad note of his reply. “That seems very strange. Ten years! Did something happen to keep you from returning to your family? A fight with your brother?”.

      He shook his head. “No fight, Rosaleen, and you may keep your curiosity to yourself. It’s no concern of yours, just as you are СКАЧАТЬ