The Prisoner Bride. Susan Spencer Paul

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СКАЧАТЬ that passed in their conversation set an ever increasing distance between them and London. The carriage rattled along at an alarmingly brisk pace, and the sky grew ever more dark with storm clouds. Her aunts and uncles would begin to worry if she didn’t return soon. Or perhaps not, she reasoned, as they seemed to have known that she would not be returning to Metolius anytime soon. The memory of their parting made Glenys inwardly groan. Why couldn’t they just tell her outright when these things were going to happen? Why did everything always have to be such a mystery?

      “Please,” she begged, “listen to me, sir, and understand what I say. The Greth Stone is naught but a very old ring, passed through many generations of my family, from as far back as Roman times. It bears no great value save to the Seymours, and only for the sake of sentiment. But there are some who say that it possesses mystical powers, and despite the foolishness of such a claim, there are many more who believe it. Sir Anton is among them. The ring was stolen from our London home, Metolius, while we were gone to our family estate in Wales from Michaelmas until Twelth Day. The man who stole it is…well, that doesn’t matter. What matters is that I know who he is, and ’twas my intention to set out next month in order to search the thief out and reclaim the ring. Sir Anton knew of my plans and has clearly determined that he must stop me.”

      “He means to find Caswallan before you do, eh?” Kieran FitzAllen asked. Again, Glenys was stunned.

      “He told you of Caswallan?” she asked, utterly amazed. “God’s mercy, but Sir Anton Lagasse must be a greater fool than I had believed.” She looked at her captor more closely. “You are in league with him, aren’t you? You must be, to do his bidding in this fruitless matter.”

      “I am only concerned with Sir Anton because he hired me to kidnap and hold you, mistress. There is nothing more. I have no interest in your Greth Stone, whether it exists or has magical powers.”

      “Of a certainty it has no magical powers,” Glenys said, scoffing. “’Tis naught but a very old ring of little value. But I will not allow Sir Anton to hold aught that belongs to my family. He sees himself as a conjurer, possessed of great skill, and believes the Greth Stone will make him the more powerful.”

      At this, the knave finally laughed, throwing his head back and showing teeth that were white and even. Glenys noted, much to her aggravation, that even in mirth he was almost too handsome to look at.

      “Sir Anton!” he declared, grinning widely. “A skilled conjurer? I vow, ’tis too much to bear!” He laughed again, fully amused. “By the rood, he seemed more like a well-dressed mouse than so powerful a man.” He laughed all the harder.

      Glenys frowned darkly. “It matters not what he may seem to be, but only that he has succeeded in keeping me from reaching Caswallan first. I tell you, Sir Anton must not be allowed to get the Greth Stone in his grasp. There will be no chance for my family to regain it if it falls to him. You must end this foolishness now and let us go!”

      He sobered only slightly, enough to stop laughing and say, grinning, “Nay, that I cannot do.”

      “But why?” she demanded. “Now that you know ’tis but a fool’s errand, you have no cause to continue! I have already said that I will pay you far more than Sir Anton promised. And surely you must realize that regardless of what he has already paid, there will be no more. He’ll not keep his word and come to fetch me. I’faith, ’twill be far more likely that we’ll be greeted by worse knaves than you and your accomplice at some point upon our journey, set upon killing us all.”

      Kieran FitzAllen looked at her with pure disbelief. “How so? Sir Anton has no reason to want you dead, even if all you say is true, and a less likely murderer I’ve e’er set sight upon.”

      “Then you are naught but a fool,” Glenys said. “Sir Anton knows that I will not cease in exposing him for the deceiver he is, and for that alone he would gladly have me dead. And he would care nothing for any other deaths that might occur for the sake of being rid of me, yours included.”

      It was clear by the look on Kieran FitzAllen’s face that he didn’t believe a word she said. He merely sighed aloud and stated, “Sir Anton would find it difficult to kill me, I vow, and you as well, while you are beneath my care. I am not a knight of the realm, but I’ve matched a goodly share of them in singular battle before now and come away the winner. I have no fear of any man, and most assuredly not of one the likes of Sir Anton Lagasse.”

      Though she wished it were not so, Glenys had to admit that the man sitting opposite her looked fully capable of besting any number of skilled fighting men; he was well-muscled and moved with a certain ease and grace that might give him an advantage over lesser men.

      “Perhaps not of Sir Anton,” she said, “but you would be foolish not to consider that among my relatives are those who would fill you with fear. My brother being foremost. He is Sir Daman Seymour, and I think it unlikely that you have not heard of him, or of his skills. But if you have not, I tell you now that he is a famed knight of the realm who is well able to mete out justice to such a one as you.”

      The charming smile was back on Kieran FitzAllen’s face. Glenys longed to wipe it away.

      “I am aware of who your brother is, Mistress Glenys.”

      “Then you must likewise be aware that he and his men will come after me the moment he hears of what you have done. No matter how secret your hiding place may be, Daman will find me, and he will deal out a punishment to you and your friend that will have you praying for salvation.”

      Kieran FitzAllen uttered a bark of laughter. “You speak out of love and honor, mistress,” he said, “but surely such words sound as foolish to your ears as they do to mine. In truth, ’tis my prayer that Sir Daman Seymour follows our track and finds us. Soon. I cherish the thought of meeting him face-to-face.”

      Glenys’s mouth dropped open again.

      “You cannot mean what you say,” she murmured. “My brother will kill you when he finds you. I do not speak falsely. He will kill you.”

      “He may try.”

      Glenys shook her head. “This has naught to do with Sir Anton, then, just as you said. ’Tis because of Daman that you have done this thing. But why? Have you some quarrel with my brother? But, nay, you cannot. Daman has no enemies, save those that are also the enemies of my family, such as Sir Anton and Caswallan. But you are not in league with them, or so you have said. Why, then, should you wish to draw Daman’s certain wrath down upon yourself?”

      “My reasons are my own, mistress, and will remain so. Now you understand at least in part why I will not let you go, and ’twould be best if you accept and reconcile yourself to it. My servant, Jean-Marc, who drives the coach, and I will bring you no harm, nor your maid. ’Tis only our intention to hold you until either Sir Anton or your brother—or perhaps both—have come to fetch you. Until that time, be pleased to give me no trouble, I pray, for you’ll not escape me. As it may be that we shall be in company for some few weeks, I believe that we should all try to be as merry and comfortable as possible.”

      “Sir,” said Glenys, sitting back with complete exasperation, “you are a lackwit if you believe that my maid or I shall do any like thing. You have taken us as prisoners, and as such we cannot be merry and comfortable.”

      He gave her a certain look out of his blue eyes, so filled with blatant sensuality that it made her skin tingle. ’Twas clearly well practiced, and she wasn’t sure whether he answered out of truth or simply out of habit when he replied, in a low, seductive tone, “Even the most unpleasant situation can be made merry СКАЧАТЬ