Malcolm's Honor. Jillian Hart

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      Elin frowned at Alma’s wry comment. Didn’t she have every right to be furious? She was trussed up like livestock. And worse, she had deeper fears she would not confess to Alma. Whether true or not, her father was being taken to the king under the charge of treason. She had at first thought such accusations unlikely, but Father’s righteous fury changed her mind. An innocent man would not spout death threats and then offer bribes to anyone who could free him.

      Was the dark knight correct? Would she face the same charges just by being in her father’s company? But what if le Farouche followed his own agenda in kidnapping them? If he’d concocted the accusations against her father, what future awaited her then?

      Either way, escape seemed the best course.

      As if sensing her intentions, Hugh turned to study her carefully. Grateful for the shadows of a grove they rode through, Elin froze. She tried to appear innocent until he faced forward again. Then she wiggled the knife tucked against her waist so that its hilt caught against the inside of her elbow. With a little concentration, she freed the blade from the small scabbard beneath her mantle.

      So far so good. Now to retrieve it. She had to appear innocent every time Hugh turned to spy on her. That damnable knight was truly annoying.

      Finally the blade slid down the length of her sleeved arm and into her palm. The sharp point nicked her flesh, but she didn’t even wince. Such victory! With the way that dark knight led his men, eyes straight ahead and nose to the sky, he would never know she and Alma had slipped away into the darkness.

      But Hugh would notice. Something had to be done about him.

      “I see what you are up to,” Alma whispered, piquing Hugh’s interest once more.

      “Alma! Stop this! How are we to escape if you keep drawing that annoying knight’s attention?”

      “We ought not to escape.” Alma drew herself up straight, her low voice ringing with authority. “Listen to me for once, Elinore. They will set us free. We are innocent. Edward is a fair and just king.”

      “I trust no man, not even the king.” And not Malcolm le Farouche. “Neither should you.”

      “And tell me what harm can come to two women traveling these woods unarmed and unprotected? Nothing worse than what will befall us by staying beneath the fierce knight’s protection.”

      Elin hated it when Alma made sense. “I will protect you.”

      “You have no sword or armor, little one. You are brave, but do not consider it. I pray you, stay with me. No harm will come to us. You wait and see.”

      Now what should she do? Elin waited until Hugh faced forward again before she positioned the hilt in her palm and worked the tip of the knife into the bindings.

      “Surrender your weapon, maiden warrior.” A deep voice shivered over the back of her neck, vibrating down her spine.

      She jumped. The knife fell to the ground, lost forever. Le Farouche rode half a hair’s width beside her. How had he gotten there? He’d been at the lead just moments ago. He made no sound as he rode alongside her. Was he part demon? How would she fight him now?

      “As you can see, I have no weapon.” She held flat both palms. “I speak the truth.”

      “Then why do you bleed as if pricked by a sharp blade?”

      “’Tis from the bindings.”

      “Do not mistake me for a fool.”

      She lifted her chin. “Or me, cowardly knight.”

      “Hsst!” Alma whispered, scolding her.

      The dark knight’s laughter boomed through the silent forest. “I see that at least one of you females has good sense. Listen to the older one, dove. Escape would only bring peril and prove your guilt to the king.”

      “I have no guilt.” She’d had her share of misdeeds and misadventures, but not treason. “If you believe in our innocence, then release us.”

      “And risk the king’s wrath? ’Tis unlikely.”

      “The king need never know.”

      “You are not just fierce, you’re clever, not a typical maiden. I like that.” His great voice thundered over her, at once powerful and kind.

      Kind? Now, where had that notion come from?

      He leaned close and she could smell the night scent of him, mysterious, wooded, crisp like cool air. “If I see any knives, I will seize them. Do not reveal your weapons and I will allow you to keep them.”

      He spurred his destrier forward, leaving her behind with the shades and shadows of night.

      “’Tis twice he’s forgiven your transgressions, Elin. Do not tempt his anger further,” Alma murmured.

      Elin cursed at the loss of her knife and felt some satisfaction that she had another tucked inside her mantle. Just one weapon left.

      ’Twould have to be enough.

      “We are being watched,” Sir Giles said in a low tone so that his voice wouldn’t carry.

      “That has not escaped me.” Malcolm did not look around. He saw no reason to alert whoever watched them that he knew of their presence. “I sense two riders keeping just to the east of us in the wood. They ride distant enough so we hear naught of their movements but close enough to strike quickly. See how my stallion senses them.”

      “I hear now and then the sound of hooves on dried twigs.”

      Malcolm pulled off his helm. Cool damp air swept across his brow. “At least two ride west of us as well. Did you hear the sound of a horse exhaling?”

      “Look how your stallion swivels his ears.”

      “More will be waiting on the path ahead of us. Expect an ambush. Alert the men. Quietly.”

      “Aye. We will fare better if we are not surprised.” Giles fell back to speak to each knight in turn, giving no sign of alarm.

      Malcolm slid his helm down over his face. He neither loved battle like some nor hated it like others. ’Twas something he excelled at, however. His blood heated with anticipation. His grip on his sword tightened.

      “What of the women?” Hugh rode up beside Malcolm for a moment. “If you count four men, surely there will be more. I cannot sit by and watch a battle. I must fight.”

      “We may well be outnumbered. Leave the women to their own devices. The girl is armed.”

      “She mayhap could level an entire army with that kick of hers.”

      As a knight, one who made his way by fighting and war, Malcolm admired courage and strength in all forms. Even in a girl-woman who knew not enough of the world to be afraid of it.

      “Look to. Up ahead the road narrows.” The perfect spot for an ambush. Malcolm studied the lay of the land. Enormous boulders blocked his view of the shadowed СКАЧАТЬ