startled glance, tensed for a moment and finally relaxed again, conceding defeat. “Ye look familiar. Who are ye, then?” he asked sullenly as he searched the room and finally brought a coil of rope and proceeded to tie the other two men as Nightshade directed.
“It would mean nothing to you if I told you.”
“How’d ye get into the keep?”
Nightshade ignored that, watching the man through narrowed eyes until he’d tied the other two men and then motioning him aside so that he could check the bindings. His lips tightened and he sent the man a menacing glare. “Tighter--or I could simply slit their throats and eliminate the problem.”
The man’s face reddened with fury but he returned to his comrades and tied the rope more securely. “There’s only one reason I can think a man’d be running about bare arsed in weather like this,” he muttered. “An’ that’s on account of the woman he was fuckin’ tossed him out--Or he got caught plowin’ some maid he ought not.”
Uttering a snarl of fury, Nightshade caught the man square on the jaw with the hilt of his sword. Grasping the man’s tunic as he fell to the floor, he dragged the man up by the fistful of fabric until they were almost nose to nose. “Dangerous thoughts and a loose tongue,” he snarled. “Should I slit your throat, I wonder? Or cut out your tongue?”
The man’s eyes, still rolling about in his head from the blow, bulged. As he stared at the rage contorting Nightshade’s face, however, his fear deepened and his expression became a look of purest horror. “Nightshade,” he whispered hoarsely.
Nightshade shook him and released him. “The clothes. Take them off.”
Shaking like a leaf blowing in a strong wind, the man nodded jerkily and began to snatch his clothing off and toss it until he stood shivering in his chausses. Nightshade looked the garment over with distaste. “Those too.”
The man gaped at him but hastened to comply, dropping his undergarments beside the rest.
“Thank you,” Nightshade said almost pleasantly and then slammed his fist into the man’s jaw. The soldier’s eyes rolled back in his head and he crumpled to the floor.
Setting the sword aside, Nightshade pulled the clothes on, trying to ignore the stench that clung to them. He’d judged the man closest to his size, but the clothing was still far too tight, the sleeves of the tunic and legs of the breeches too short. Muttering curses under his breath, he tugged the stockings on and shoved his feet into the boots.
He’d be crippled, he thought wryly, if he had to walk far in the things for he had to curl his toes to get them on. It still beat the hell out of frozen feet and toes.
When he’d finished, he dragged the naked man over to the others and tied him up, as well, then settled in a chair before the room’s small brazier to warm himself and think.
He would need an army to reclaim what was rightfully his and he must take what was rightfully his before he claimed Bronwyn as his wife, else he would not have the wherewithal to hold her against the king.
Fortunately, he had an advantage no one else had.
He had built Raventhorne. He knew all of its secrets.
Chapter Nine
Bronwyn had had a good deal of time to regret her emotional outburst. Indeed, she could not fathom what had come over her. She had managed to remain stoic in the face of William’s cruelties, even the beatings.
And yet Nightshade’s gentleness had undone her!
She could only think that he had believed nothing that she had said for weeks had past and she had seen nothing of him.
It was impossible to keep her fears at bay. She had imagined so many reasons for his absence that she was nigh sick with worrying herself. The worst fear was that she had, somehow, done or said something that had altered the curse upon him in some terrible way, but she could not dismiss that as pure
“It would mean nothing to you if I told you.”
“How’d ye get into the keep?”
Nightshade ignored that, watching the man through narrowed eyes until he’d tied the other two men and then motioning him aside so that he could check the bindings. His lips tightened and he sent the man a menacing glare. “Tighter--or I could simply slit their throats and eliminate the problem.”
The man’s face reddened with fury but he returned to his comrades and tied the rope more securely. “There’s only one reason I can think a man’d be running about bare arsed in weather like this,” he muttered. “An’ that’s on account of the woman he was fuckin’ tossed him out--Or he got caught plowin’ some maid he ought not.”
Uttering a snarl of fury, Nightshade caught the man square on the jaw with the hilt of his sword. Grasping the man’s tunic as he fell to the floor, he dragged the man up by the fistful of fabric until they were almost nose to nose. “Dangerous thoughts and a loose tongue,” he snarled. “Should I slit your throat, I wonder? Or cut out your tongue?”
The man’s eyes, still rolling about in his head from the blow, bulged. As he stared at the rage contorting Nightshade’s face, however, his fear deepened and his expression became a look of purest horror. “Nightshade,” he whispered hoarsely.
Nightshade shook him and released him. “The clothes. Take them off.”
Shaking like a leaf blowing in a strong wind, the man nodded jerkily and began to snatch his clothing off and toss it until he stood shivering in his chausses. Nightshade looked the garment over with distaste. “Those too.”
The man gaped at him but hastened to comply, dropping his undergarments beside the rest.
“Thank you,” Nightshade said almost pleasantly and then slammed his fist into the man’s jaw. The soldier’s eyes rolled back in his head and he crumpled to the floor.
Setting the sword aside, Nightshade pulled the clothes on, trying to ignore the stench that clung to them. He’d judged the man closest to his size, but the clothing was still far too tight, the sleeves of the tunic and legs of the breeches too short. Muttering curses under his breath, he tugged the stockings on and shoved his feet into the boots.
He’d be crippled, he thought wryly, if he had to walk far in the things for he had to curl his toes to get them on. It still beat the hell out of frozen feet and toes.
When he’d finished, he dragged the naked man over to the others and tied him up, as well, then settled in a chair before the room’s small brazier to warm himself and think.
He would need an army to reclaim what was rightfully his and he must take what was rightfully his before he claimed Bronwyn as his wife, else he would not have the wherewithal to hold her against the king.
Fortunately, he had an advantage no one else had.
He had built Raventhorne. He knew all of its secrets.
Chapter Nine
Bronwyn had had a good deal of time to regret her emotional outburst. Indeed, she could not fathom what had come over her. She had managed to remain stoic in the face of William’s cruelties, even the beatings.
And yet Nightshade’s gentleness had undone her!
She could only think that he had believed nothing that she had said for weeks had past and she had seen nothing of him.
It was impossible to keep her fears at bay. She had imagined so many reasons for his absence that she was nigh sick with worrying herself. The worst fear was that she had, somehow, done or said something that had altered the curse upon him in some terrible way, but she could not dismiss that as pure
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