Read Online Ransom My Heart by Meg Cabot - Free Book Online Page A

whom?”
    â€œSix sisters. And it isn’t easy for him—”
    â€œGood God,” Hugo cried. “You mean there are five more like you at home?”
    â€œOf course not. I’m the youngest. Four of my sisters are already married, and the fifth, Mellana, would like to, only—” Here the chestnut-colored eyebrows, like winged birds in the smooth white sky of her forehead, gathered together in a scowl. “See here,” Finnula said, in a voice that was heavy with disapproval. “You can’t draw me out. I’m the interrogator here. Now tell me who you are.”
    Hugo had to think a moment. There was every chance that if he told her the truth, she’d release him at once, appalled. After all, her family owed their livelihood to the Earl of Stephensgate. She would have to be a very ungrateful—and stupid—chit indeed to hold her own lord for ransom. No, he wouldn’t risk telling the truth to her just yet. He was greatly looking forward to being held captive by such a fair jailer.
    â€œGod’s teeth,” Finnula swore, with some impatience. “I only asked your name. If you’re sitting there, thinking up some great lie to tell me, you’d better think again. Lies will only impede your return to freedom.”
    â€œHugh Fitzwilliam,” Hugo said, at once, and he told her he was the son of a knight situated in a manor near Caterbury, a village just beyond Stephensgate.
    Finnula nodded knowingly, as if she’d guessed as much. “And you’re returning from the Crusades,” she said, touching her chin to indicate that only returning crusaders wore beards in this part of the country. Hugo had meant to shave, but the dispute over the innkeeper’s wife had kept him too busy. “Were you imprisoned there?”
    He nodded. “In Acre. For over a year.”
    If he’d hoped his woeful tone of voice would engender the girl’s sympathy, he was disappointed. She didn’t seem to possess any of the emotions he’d come to expect in women, pity among them.
    â€œWell,” she said cheerfully, “I’m certain that your wife will be happy to pay for your freedom, now that she has you so close to home. And you needn’t fear, I won’t charge her overmuch.”
    Hugo grinned. “But I have no wife.”
    The girl shrugged. “Your father, then.”
    â€œDead.”
    Finnula looked so crestfallen that he wanted to laugh. Here she had gone to all the trouble of kidnapping him, and he had no relatives to pay ransom for him.
    â€œWell, what am I to do with you, then?” she demanded, her asperity evident. “I can’t go about with a giant clod of a man forever hanging on my shirttail. There must be somebody who would pay for your release. Think. Isn’t there anybody who might want to see you again?”
    Hugo glared at her. He didn’t much appreciate being referred to as “a giant clod of a man.” It didn’t sound very complimentary, and he was used to receiving compliments from women—lots of them, as a matter of fact. And what did she mean, hanging on her shirttail? She made it sound as if she’d been saddled with some sort of invalid half-wit, and not the very good-looking, quite virile seventh Earl of Stephensgate.
    â€œI’m sorry to disappoint you, madam,” he said stiffly, and because he would not have her think he was a nobody, he added, carefully, “I do have a cousin who was instructed before I left for the Holy Land to pay any ransom demanded for me—”
    â€œOh, well, then,” Finnula said, brightening. “That’s all right!”
    And she awarded him a smile so full of sunny warmth that he forgot all about being annoyed with her. He was so distracted that he didn’t even hear the crunching of twigs nearby that warned of an interloper, not until it was too late.
    Almost from out of nowhere hurtled the body of his