Blood Lust (3 page)

“A place in the forest. I’ve tried to make it comfortable for you.”

Her eyes shifted upwards towards his. “You planned this. You meant to take me all along, didn’t you?”

He would like to take her, he thought, watching the flush creeping over her breasts, but not the way she meant.

“As I said, I hope you will be comfortable.” He tipped his head toward the lodge. “This way, my lady.”

With obvious reluctance, she followed him into the house, stopping a moment in the entry, surprised it seemed that the place was so well cared for.

“Not exactly the sort of place one would associate with an outlaw,” she said.

“What did you expect? A pathetic room above some seedy tavern?”

“Exactly.”

“Sorry to disappoint you.” He started toward the stairs, assuming she would follow.

“How much will you ask for me?”

He stopped and turned, “Beg pardon?”

“The ransom. How much will you ask?”

He smiled. “How much do you think you’re worth?”

Not nearly as much as you believe, Katherine thought with a surge of panic. Her safety depended on the coin she would bring him. She wondered what he would do should he discover how insignificant her worth really was.

“The duke may not value damaged goods,” she said, thinking of her ruined reputation and the incorrigible pig Benjamin could be. “He’ll have no way of knowing that you haven’t…that you haven’t. . .”

“That I haven’t what, my lady. That I haven’t ravished you?”

The heat rose into her cheeks. “I’m telling you he might not be willing to pay.” And her brother certainly couldn’t.

He simply shrugged his shoulders. “I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

Oddly, he didn’t seem overly disturbed at the prospect. In fact nothing he had done seemed to fit one’s usual perception of an outlaw. It should have been comforting. Instead she found it oddly disconcerting, as if something were happening just outside her range of vision, something she couldn’t quite see.

“There’s a room for you upstairs,” he said, starting to the second floor. “Follow me.”

She did exactly as he said, dragging her now too long skirts along the way.

The outlaw must have noticed for a frown crossed his face. When they reached the top of the stairs, he turned and faced her. “Stand still.”

Katherine shrieked at the glimmering blade he pulled from his black boot, and nearly toppled backward down the stairs. A long arm quickly reacted, barely catching her. The bandit cursed.

“Good God woman! I told you I’m not going to harm you.”

She was shaking but she lifted her chin. “That’s a little hard to believe when you’re standing there holding that blade.” She pointed to the knife and he smiled with a hint of malice.

Bending forward, he caught the hem of her dress and used the knife to cut off a good four inches across the front.

“Turn around.” Eyeing him warily, she did as he told her and more of the gown fell away. “At least you’ll be able to walk without tripping over that thing.”

“If you hadn’t practically undressed me. . .”She stopped midsentence to look at his penetrating eyes. Her cheeks heated up and she glanced away. “I gather this is where I am to sleep.”

“The linens are fresh. I think you’ll find the bed is comfortable.”

She turned toward the window and for a moment hope flared.

“Forget it. They’ve all been nailed shut, just in case you get any ideas. I’ll be sleeping downstairs. Behave yourself my lady, and you’ll soon be on your way. You’ll merely be inconvenienced for the next few days.”

Inconvenienced, she thought. If that were the only consequence she would pay. “As you wish my lord.” She nodded at him.

He frowned. She hadn’t been sleeping, as he had believed when the boy had address him as a nobleman. She wasn’t going to simply sit by and wait for him, whoever he was to send word to the duke. To hope that Benjamin would pay, to chance missing her wedding to lose her home, to destroy her family and her future. She had to find some means of escape.

Katherine felt like pacing, but instead she curled up in the middle of the bed unable to sleep. She sat waiting, huddled in the darkness, still dressed in her cumbersome gown, the whalebone stays poking her in her ribs.

Outside the window the clouds had become thicker and rolling, with the claps of thunder and flashes of lightning.

It wasn’t the sort of night she would choose for escaping, but every hour she remained only made her situation worse. Though she had no idea where she was, she concluded that if she kept walking that sooner or later she would come to a remote hamlet or cottage where someone would help her. All she had to do was get away.

How long had she been waiting? Long enough for her captor to have fallen asleep? Upon checking the door, she found it locked. The nailed shut window was her only means of escape.

Careful to move slow to keep the slats of the bed from creaking, she swung her legs to the floor and stood up slowly, her heart racing now. Gathering up the sheets she had knotted up to form a length of rope. Walking on tip toe she made her way across the room. She paused at the bureau to pick up the make shift hammer, a silver backed brush and comb that had been placed on the table for her.

She glanced up toward the sky, hoping someone up there would hear her prayer, “I am not good at these things Lord. Please help me succeed.”

He must have agreed because when she pressed the wad of bed sheets against the pane and carefully cracked it with the back of the hairbrush, the glass cracked neatly. Only one piece fell away noiselessly.

“Thank you, thank you.” Her hands were shaking. She steadied them as best she could, lifting the shards of glass out piece by piece, then breaking off the wooden strips between the panes as she lifted out the remaining glass. It took longer than she had anticipated. A light rain had started to fall by the time she had the last shard out and had tied the make shift rope to the table leg that sat against the wall under the window.

Praying that the table and linen would hold her weight, she wriggled through the window and slowly lowered herself to the ground. Her foot wound up in a buddle and she gasped as the icy water filled her slipper.

Katherine quickly made a assessment of the grounds, trying to decide which way to go. Nothing looked familiar to her. She wished she had been paying more attention on the ride from the carriage. Lifting her damp skirts, Katherine started to run toward the woods.

William blinked, unable to believe what he was seeing. But the small figure he had seen dangling in front of the window, the one now running toward the woods, would not get away. How had she done it? He had nailed those panes shut himself. She had to have broken the glass, but he hadn’t heard a sound. Now she was running again, heading into what looked to be a rapidly building storm.

Good God. This woman was definitely a pain in the neck. Working the last button on his breeches, he pulled on his boots and grabbed his cloak, tossing it around his shoulders as he raced out the door. Lightning flashed and thunder rumbled a warning. The damn girl had surely picked a foul night to make trouble.

By the time he crossed the meadow following the direction she had taken, rain pelted down and a fierce wind whipped through the trees. Lightning continued to flash and the rapid echo of thunder said it wasn’t that far away.

Glancing at the sky, William hurried even faster. Cursing his captive with every breath he took, he raced into the forest. Rain stung his face making him more determined to find her. He caught a flash of her skirts, ducking behind a tree, heading deeper into the woods.

He started to run as fast as he could, his heart pounding as loud as the thunder. What if she was injured? Or worse yet, killed?”

William felt a knot in his stomach. He had brought her here, so it was up to him to protect her. He prayed he could keep his word.

Katherine inhaled deeply, gasping for air. Her legs shook so bad, she thought they would not hold her up. Her hair was a sticky, wet mess that stuck to her shoulders. And her gown was a heavy limp rag that clung to her legs, weighing her down. The storm had worsened so fast. A light rain might have helped her, hidden her tracks from her captor. The storm raged all around her, the fierce winds battered her arms and legs and tore at her hair.

Dear God, she hadn’t planned on this! Yet she couldn’t go back. The danger was just as real back at the hunting lodge.

She turned at the crack of thunder, fear running through her spine, then the lightning flashed again. Katherine stood frozen as the bright, yellow spike arched toward her, so near she was sure it would touch her, and a terrified scream tore through her. Twisting away from the flames that erupted among the branches just inches away, she turned to run in the opposite direction, colliding instead with a solid wall of flesh, she screamed again.

“Damn you, woman.” His arms closed around her, dragging her away from the flames, dragging her to safety. He wrapped her in his cloak and pressed her face against the warmth of his chest. Her body was shaking, but she felt him trembling too. In some strange way she found it comforting. They stood that way for several moments, his chest rising and falling beneath her cheek, his clothes smelling of rain.

“Please,” she said at last, “you must let me go.” She lifted her eyes toward him, her pulse racing, her breathing ragged. “I have to get back.”

He shook his head.

“Please I must get to Sussex Manor. I have to marry the duke.”

He stiffened at the words, pulling away, a harshness settled into his features. “You can marry whomever you wish, once you’ve returned. Until then you will stay with me.”

Katherine started to struggle and break free, but his hold on her only tightened. He shook her, forcing her to look up at him. “Listen to me, don’t you know you could have been killed!”

Before she could answer he lifted her up in his arms and started walking toward the house. She could feel his heart pounding, matching the swift rhythm of her own. Strangely, it occurred to her that this bandit was indeed a very handsome man.

It didn’t take long to return to the house. Once he did, he kicked the door open and stepped in, setting her on her feet in a spot that quickly puddled with rainwater and mud.

She was shaking all over, numb with cold, her teeth chattering so much she barely heard the foul oath he swore.

“Christ woman, how did you think you would survive out there?”

“If, if it hadn’t started to rain and if it hadn’t turned so cold.”

He shook his head, mumbling under his breath.

She lifted her chin. Perhaps leaving as she had was a stupid thing to do. She probably should have planned things better, but she was too upset to think clearly. She clamped down on her teeth in an effort to stop the chattering and looked at the fire, where her captor was stoking the flames. He added more logs and in no time, a warmth embraced the room. Even though it did, soaked to the bone, she continued to shiver.

“You’ve got to get out of those clothes.” His deep voice rose above the crackle of the fire. Turning away, he took a blanket off the sofa where he had been trying to sleep. “Tomorrow the boy will bring you something dry and clean to wear. Until then, wrap yourself in this.” He handed her the blanket.

Katherine bit her lip. Her fingers were numb, she couldn’t even feel if her thumbs were still attached to her hands. Unfastening the buttons at the back of her bodice would be impossible. “Perhaps the gown will dry,” she said, knowing there wasn’t a chance it would.

“Don’t be a fool, take it off,” her captor scoffed. “You can go upstairs if you wish, though if I were you, being that the window is broken I’d stay down here where it is warm.”

“Perhaps you are right, but the truth is, unless you wish to help me, I won’t be able to do it. My fingers are too cold to unfasten the buttons.” She couldn’t have reached them anyway, even if her fingers weren’t cold.

“Turn around,” he muttered, scowling, his eyes darkening.

With her knees still shaking, she did as he asked. Modesty had its place, but this wasn’t one of them. Holding back her embarrassment, she ignored the tickle of his big hands brushing her skin, and caught the gown against her bosom as the fabric fell away. When she turned, she found his broad back facing her, his eyes trained the opposite way. A gentleman. Who knew.

Hurrying, hoping not to test his patience, she stripped to her chemise and wrapped the blanket snuggly around her.

“What about you?” Walking toward the fire, she sighed as the satisfying warmth enveloped her.

“I’m used to a little discomfort.” But he turned toward the fire and stripped away the soggy shirt over his head. For a moment, Katherine stood frozen. She had never seen a man’s bare chest and certainly never imagined one that looked like his. In the light of the fire, it rippled with muscles. A furring of dark brown hair covered the upper part and arrowed down, past the waistband of his breeches.

“I’ll go fix the window,” he said, sitting down to tug off his boots. Katherine turned away, trying not to notice the rustle of fabric that meant he had stripped off his breeches. “Then perhaps we can both get some sleep.”

Katherine said nothing to this. Her mind was still churning with the image of his hard male body, of what it must feel like to touch a body like that, whether the curly brown hair was as soft as it looked.