Read Online Claire Delacroix by The Warrior - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: The Warrior
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anticipating his chance to sample her. Aileen looked to the priest, sickened by her circumstance.
Father Gilchrist looked to be bleary with sleep. Aileen guessed that he had partaken heavily of the tainted ale, though his eyes widened at the sight of her. He was an older man, unafraid to speak his thoughts, and generally sharp of tongue.
Perhaps he might aid her!
“What blasphemy is this?” he demanded.
“Quiet, Father,” growled the Hawk’s man. Aileen saw the glint of the man’s blade touch the priest’s side and understood that this was no jest.
Father Gilchrist swallowed then, his gaze flicking between his captor and the man that now unknotted the cloth that gagged Aileen. Another of the Hawk’s men stood in the shadows, guarding the door, his expression grim and his hand on the hilts of his blades. He was dark-haired, as well, tall and blue of eye. He also wore dark garb like the Hawk—they were men dressed to do foul deeds in the midst of the night.
When Aileen’s gag was unbound, she lost no time in spitting out the leather within her mouth. She barely had a chance to lick her lips before the Hawk’s gloved hand closed over her mouth with surety. She made an indignant sound of protest but he merely tightened his grip upon her.
“Begin, Father,” he said. “We have no time to waste.”
The priest straightened and gave her captor a sharp glance. “It is imperative that the parties both be willing.”
“We are both willing,” the Hawk said with resolve.
Aileen guessed then what he meant to do. She twisted against him, unable to understand why he would compel her to wed him, and anxious to halt the ceremony.
“I hardly think...” the priest said, then paused to frown at the blade that prodded his ribs anew. He fixed a stern eye upon Aileen’s captor. “The lady clearly is not willing.”
“Umph!” Aileen nodded in emphatic agreement to that.
“Then perhaps the lady does not understand her own best interests,” the Hawk said smoothly.
Aileen would have gladly argued that assertion and the priest clearly made note of her flashing eyes. He made to protest, but the Hawk released his grip upon her waist. White flashed before her eyes and the priest instinctively caught the object tossed at him.
It was Aileen’s chemise. And there was blood upon it, blood where the blood of a woman’s broken maidenhead would fall. The blood was yet wet, of course.
Father Gilchrist realized what he held and dropped it immediately.
Aileen saw the look in the priest’s eyes and knew that he believed that she had been raped. She felt doubly ill then, for she understood that the Hawk had cornered her again. If he abandoned her now, nothing she said could take the stain from her name. If he claimed her, she could not imagine her existence.
She was left with no good choices.
The other two men began to chuckle. “I thought you took overlong, my lord,” said the one by the door, his manner teasing.
The other winked at Aileen again. “The Hawk of Inverfyre leaves no detail to chance.”
“Certainly not,” the Hawk lied easily, though Aileen supposed that would be a minor crime to a man of his ilk.
“The garment is torn,” Father Gilchrist insisted with vigor. “The lady was not willing.”
“Yet the deed is done all the same,” the Hawk said with such confidence that none would doubt him. Aileen loathed him in that moment with all her heart and soul. How dare he damage her reputation? “Surely what is of import is that I would treat her with honor from this moment forward.”
“With honor?” Father Gilchrist sputtered. “What mockery is this? You cannot imagine that I will persuaded that you would treat the daughter of my patron with any dignity after you have raped her! I would be a fool to cede her hand to you!”
“And you think her fate much improved to remain here, soiled as she is. How many suitors do you think will come for her now?” The Hawk’s tone was derisive. “You are a
Father Gilchrist looked to be bleary with sleep. Aileen guessed that he had partaken heavily of the tainted ale, though his eyes widened at the sight of her. He was an older man, unafraid to speak his thoughts, and generally sharp of tongue.
Perhaps he might aid her!
“What blasphemy is this?” he demanded.
“Quiet, Father,” growled the Hawk’s man. Aileen saw the glint of the man’s blade touch the priest’s side and understood that this was no jest.
Father Gilchrist swallowed then, his gaze flicking between his captor and the man that now unknotted the cloth that gagged Aileen. Another of the Hawk’s men stood in the shadows, guarding the door, his expression grim and his hand on the hilts of his blades. He was dark-haired, as well, tall and blue of eye. He also wore dark garb like the Hawk—they were men dressed to do foul deeds in the midst of the night.
When Aileen’s gag was unbound, she lost no time in spitting out the leather within her mouth. She barely had a chance to lick her lips before the Hawk’s gloved hand closed over her mouth with surety. She made an indignant sound of protest but he merely tightened his grip upon her.
“Begin, Father,” he said. “We have no time to waste.”
The priest straightened and gave her captor a sharp glance. “It is imperative that the parties both be willing.”
“We are both willing,” the Hawk said with resolve.
Aileen guessed then what he meant to do. She twisted against him, unable to understand why he would compel her to wed him, and anxious to halt the ceremony.
“I hardly think...” the priest said, then paused to frown at the blade that prodded his ribs anew. He fixed a stern eye upon Aileen’s captor. “The lady clearly is not willing.”
“Umph!” Aileen nodded in emphatic agreement to that.
“Then perhaps the lady does not understand her own best interests,” the Hawk said smoothly.
Aileen would have gladly argued that assertion and the priest clearly made note of her flashing eyes. He made to protest, but the Hawk released his grip upon her waist. White flashed before her eyes and the priest instinctively caught the object tossed at him.
It was Aileen’s chemise. And there was blood upon it, blood where the blood of a woman’s broken maidenhead would fall. The blood was yet wet, of course.
Father Gilchrist realized what he held and dropped it immediately.
Aileen saw the look in the priest’s eyes and knew that he believed that she had been raped. She felt doubly ill then, for she understood that the Hawk had cornered her again. If he abandoned her now, nothing she said could take the stain from her name. If he claimed her, she could not imagine her existence.
She was left with no good choices.
The other two men began to chuckle. “I thought you took overlong, my lord,” said the one by the door, his manner teasing.
The other winked at Aileen again. “The Hawk of Inverfyre leaves no detail to chance.”
“Certainly not,” the Hawk lied easily, though Aileen supposed that would be a minor crime to a man of his ilk.
“The garment is torn,” Father Gilchrist insisted with vigor. “The lady was not willing.”
“Yet the deed is done all the same,” the Hawk said with such confidence that none would doubt him. Aileen loathed him in that moment with all her heart and soul. How dare he damage her reputation? “Surely what is of import is that I would treat her with honor from this moment forward.”
“With honor?” Father Gilchrist sputtered. “What mockery is this? You cannot imagine that I will persuaded that you would treat the daughter of my patron with any dignity after you have raped her! I would be a fool to cede her hand to you!”
“And you think her fate much improved to remain here, soiled as she is. How many suitors do you think will come for her now?” The Hawk’s tone was derisive. “You are a
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