there then, trussed like a package of pelts to be shipped south and trembling in fear. Aileen loathed that there was so little she could do about her state. She quietly rolled in an attempt to escape, but only hit the wall with a muffled thump. She tried to angle herself toward the door, but the fur was so thick that she could scarcely bend.
Meanwhile, the Hawk crouched beside her pallet, disinterested in her efforts. Aileen watched him when she knew herself trapped. In all honestly, she was somewhat more reassured to be a bundle than a naked wench beneath him. She could not be raped in her current state, though that might prove to be a small mercy.
Hope rose within her that she might have another chance to evade his desire. His threat echoed in her thoughts, meanwhile, making her very heart tremble.
As she fretted, he spread her chemise before him with care, the white linen fairly glowing in the darkness. He doffed his glove and cut his thumb without a flinch, letting the blood drip to stain the linen. Aileen was mystified as to his intent.
The Hawk was, however, disinclined to confide in her. He returned his knife to its scabbard and sucked the side of his thumb to staunch the bleeding, even as he pushed her chemise into his belt. He glanced toward her, the pure mischief in his expression so startling that her heart leapt.
She struggled as he approached her, but he donned his glove, picked her up and cast her over his shoulder with appalling ease. He left the ladies’ chamber silently and moved with speed to his destination.
Wherever it might be.
III
A s they crossed the hall and took the corridor leading to the gates—passing many intimate chambers that could have been utilized for a quick rape—Aileen’s thoughts flew. It seemed that she was being kidnapped.
But why?
Did the Hawk imagine her father to be so wealthy that he would pay a rich ransom for her return? If so, he should have stolen Blanche, for Nigel would have sold his soul for her return!
It would suit Blanche, Aileen suddenly realized, to not only be rid of her step-daughter but be rid of Aileen to such a man as this. Had they made a wager at the board after Aileen retired? Perhaps Blanche had even summoned the Hawk to do this deed!
Aileen’s father might think it a fine solution to his woes in finding his daughter a spouse, particularly if Blanche presented the matter to him as artfully as she could argue her way. Perhaps she had even seen fit to aid the Hawk in polluting the ale to ensure that his crime might more readily succeed.
And what would be Aileen’s fate? She had no illusions that an honorable match would come of this inauspicious beginning, nor did she imagine that a plain maiden like herself would hold the gaze of a man like the Hawk. She was bound like goods because she would be treated like goods.
She was being carried into concubinage, at best. Perhaps the Hawk would savor Aileen for a while, perhaps she would merely be given to his men to divert them. It was a cruel punishment for one known to find a man’s touch abhorrent, perhaps a jest that a rough warrior would find amusing.
Aileen shuddered at the prospect. It would destroy her spirit to be used as a whore and discarded. She had need of a scheme to ensure her own survival.
But what could she do?
* * *
Aileen was swung upright so abruptly that she felt dizzy. Though she was set upon her feet, the padding of fur gave her no sure footing. When she toppled, the Hawk caught her fast before him. She saw, with some surprise, that they were in the chapel. Two candles were burning on the altar, and Abernye’s priest stood rumpled before her.
One of the Hawk’s men had clearly roused Father Gilchrist from his bed and held him fast. The felon was garbed in armor and dark clothing, just like his laird. He was a grim-looking man, swarthy of complexion and black of hair, his eyes so dark as to be fathomless. He winked at her, a rogue much enamored with his own appeal.
Or one
Meanwhile, the Hawk crouched beside her pallet, disinterested in her efforts. Aileen watched him when she knew herself trapped. In all honestly, she was somewhat more reassured to be a bundle than a naked wench beneath him. She could not be raped in her current state, though that might prove to be a small mercy.
Hope rose within her that she might have another chance to evade his desire. His threat echoed in her thoughts, meanwhile, making her very heart tremble.
As she fretted, he spread her chemise before him with care, the white linen fairly glowing in the darkness. He doffed his glove and cut his thumb without a flinch, letting the blood drip to stain the linen. Aileen was mystified as to his intent.
The Hawk was, however, disinclined to confide in her. He returned his knife to its scabbard and sucked the side of his thumb to staunch the bleeding, even as he pushed her chemise into his belt. He glanced toward her, the pure mischief in his expression so startling that her heart leapt.
She struggled as he approached her, but he donned his glove, picked her up and cast her over his shoulder with appalling ease. He left the ladies’ chamber silently and moved with speed to his destination.
Wherever it might be.
III
A s they crossed the hall and took the corridor leading to the gates—passing many intimate chambers that could have been utilized for a quick rape—Aileen’s thoughts flew. It seemed that she was being kidnapped.
But why?
Did the Hawk imagine her father to be so wealthy that he would pay a rich ransom for her return? If so, he should have stolen Blanche, for Nigel would have sold his soul for her return!
It would suit Blanche, Aileen suddenly realized, to not only be rid of her step-daughter but be rid of Aileen to such a man as this. Had they made a wager at the board after Aileen retired? Perhaps Blanche had even summoned the Hawk to do this deed!
Aileen’s father might think it a fine solution to his woes in finding his daughter a spouse, particularly if Blanche presented the matter to him as artfully as she could argue her way. Perhaps she had even seen fit to aid the Hawk in polluting the ale to ensure that his crime might more readily succeed.
And what would be Aileen’s fate? She had no illusions that an honorable match would come of this inauspicious beginning, nor did she imagine that a plain maiden like herself would hold the gaze of a man like the Hawk. She was bound like goods because she would be treated like goods.
She was being carried into concubinage, at best. Perhaps the Hawk would savor Aileen for a while, perhaps she would merely be given to his men to divert them. It was a cruel punishment for one known to find a man’s touch abhorrent, perhaps a jest that a rough warrior would find amusing.
Aileen shuddered at the prospect. It would destroy her spirit to be used as a whore and discarded. She had need of a scheme to ensure her own survival.
But what could she do?
* * *
Aileen was swung upright so abruptly that she felt dizzy. Though she was set upon her feet, the padding of fur gave her no sure footing. When she toppled, the Hawk caught her fast before him. She saw, with some surprise, that they were in the chapel. Two candles were burning on the altar, and Abernye’s priest stood rumpled before her.
One of the Hawk’s men had clearly roused Father Gilchrist from his bed and held him fast. The felon was garbed in armor and dark clothing, just like his laird. He was a grim-looking man, swarthy of complexion and black of hair, his eyes so dark as to be fathomless. He winked at her, a rogue much enamored with his own appeal.
Or one
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