Read Online Athena's Ordeal by Sue London - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Sue London
Tags: Romance
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the front hall. Miss Bittlesworth was there, surrounded by well-meaning staff who fluttered around her like butterflies over a flowering bush. The young miss was a bit the worse for wear. Tired, dirty, and disheveled. When she saw him she dropped a curtsy and his staff followed her lead.
"Your grace," she said.
"You have been returned to us at last."
She nodded. "I'm very sorry to have caused t rouble, your grace. My horse had a stone in his shoe and I needed to walk him. I assumed he would know his way but I think we ended up walking in circles for hours. We would most likely still be out there if John hadn't found us and brought us home."
Quince nodded his understanding, although he had no idea who John was. Perhaps a footman or stable boy. It was also a bit troubling to have Miss Bittlesworth referring to Belle Fleur as home, but after a long, hot day walking in a velvet riding habit she would probably be content to call a dirt-floored hovel home. She seemed close to tears. "Perhaps after a bath you would like to take supper in your room to rest?"
"If it wouldn't be too much trouble, your grace."
"Think nothing of it," he reassured.
She turned to ascend the steps, her bevy of maids still around her, and then turned back to him. At first it looked as though she was going to say something, then she simply dashed forward and burrowed against his chest, wrapping her arms at his waist. He hadn't been expecting that and his arms reflexively came around her. She didn't sob, just gave a shuddering sigh as she clung to him. After a few moments she backed away, damp-eyed and miserable. They stood there, hands joined and staring at one another for a moment. Then she turned and slowly trudged up the steps.
Quince finally admitted to himself that he was, in fact, relieved that she was home.
Sabre sent all of the maids away and sank down into the warm water, wrapping her arms around herself and leaning her forehead on her drawn-up knees. Robert had blindfolded her before leading her out of the house she had been held in. Then he and his men, men she hadn't recognized, had left her in the woods after ensuring her horse did, in fact, have a stone in his shoe. That last part was a bit cruel, she thought. She had tried to dig it out with her hatpin but was afraid of causing the animal more pain than good and had given up. With the stone in the gelding's shoe she had only walked a bit, not nearly as far as she had pretended in order to account for her absence. While walking she had practiced in her mind what she would say when arriving back to Belle Fleur. It had to be believable and she needed to seem distraught enough that they wouldn't question her too closely.
Then he had walked into the foyer and she actually had felt distraught. Terribly so. Until that moment she hadn't even realized that her confrontation with Robert bothered her. Robert was just being Robert. Controlling and manipulative. She loved her brother, but as she had grown older she had come to know his flaws. She worried that she shared many of them. But if she was honest with herself, Robert had scared her this time. Her abductor had pulled her from her horse and covered her head with a black sack. She had struggled and fought, but with the close air inside the bag she had passed out after a few minutes. Then to awaken tied to a chair in a cellar? Under those circumstances finding her brother there had only added to her unease. She might try to talk her way around a common cutthroat, try to trick or beguile a thug, but Robert? No, her brother was more than her match.
She believe d Robert cared about her, and it seemed obvious to her that he was as, or even more, interested in keeping her away from the duke rather than the reverse. It made her wonder what sort of trouble the duke might be in and how, exactly, it had occurred to Robert to use her to advance his own aims. Or what those aims might be.
But those few moments in the hallway, when she hadn't been
"Your grace," she said.
"You have been returned to us at last."
She nodded. "I'm very sorry to have caused t rouble, your grace. My horse had a stone in his shoe and I needed to walk him. I assumed he would know his way but I think we ended up walking in circles for hours. We would most likely still be out there if John hadn't found us and brought us home."
Quince nodded his understanding, although he had no idea who John was. Perhaps a footman or stable boy. It was also a bit troubling to have Miss Bittlesworth referring to Belle Fleur as home, but after a long, hot day walking in a velvet riding habit she would probably be content to call a dirt-floored hovel home. She seemed close to tears. "Perhaps after a bath you would like to take supper in your room to rest?"
"If it wouldn't be too much trouble, your grace."
"Think nothing of it," he reassured.
She turned to ascend the steps, her bevy of maids still around her, and then turned back to him. At first it looked as though she was going to say something, then she simply dashed forward and burrowed against his chest, wrapping her arms at his waist. He hadn't been expecting that and his arms reflexively came around her. She didn't sob, just gave a shuddering sigh as she clung to him. After a few moments she backed away, damp-eyed and miserable. They stood there, hands joined and staring at one another for a moment. Then she turned and slowly trudged up the steps.
Quince finally admitted to himself that he was, in fact, relieved that she was home.
Sabre sent all of the maids away and sank down into the warm water, wrapping her arms around herself and leaning her forehead on her drawn-up knees. Robert had blindfolded her before leading her out of the house she had been held in. Then he and his men, men she hadn't recognized, had left her in the woods after ensuring her horse did, in fact, have a stone in his shoe. That last part was a bit cruel, she thought. She had tried to dig it out with her hatpin but was afraid of causing the animal more pain than good and had given up. With the stone in the gelding's shoe she had only walked a bit, not nearly as far as she had pretended in order to account for her absence. While walking she had practiced in her mind what she would say when arriving back to Belle Fleur. It had to be believable and she needed to seem distraught enough that they wouldn't question her too closely.
Then he had walked into the foyer and she actually had felt distraught. Terribly so. Until that moment she hadn't even realized that her confrontation with Robert bothered her. Robert was just being Robert. Controlling and manipulative. She loved her brother, but as she had grown older she had come to know his flaws. She worried that she shared many of them. But if she was honest with herself, Robert had scared her this time. Her abductor had pulled her from her horse and covered her head with a black sack. She had struggled and fought, but with the close air inside the bag she had passed out after a few minutes. Then to awaken tied to a chair in a cellar? Under those circumstances finding her brother there had only added to her unease. She might try to talk her way around a common cutthroat, try to trick or beguile a thug, but Robert? No, her brother was more than her match.
She believe d Robert cared about her, and it seemed obvious to her that he was as, or even more, interested in keeping her away from the duke rather than the reverse. It made her wonder what sort of trouble the duke might be in and how, exactly, it had occurred to Robert to use her to advance his own aims. Or what those aims might be.
But those few moments in the hallway, when she hadn't been
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