A Lady Betrayed (Secrets of the Musketeers Book 2) by Leda Swann

Author:Leda Swann [Swann, Leda]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-11-25T18:00:00+00:00

Chapter 7

Courtney felt the hand on her shoulder tug her backwards and a low whisper in her ear that told her to stop. The message was reinforced with the point of a dagger pressed gently, but with a serious warning, into her side. She didn’t need telling a second time. She stopped at once.

She tried to itch the blindfold that covered her eyes with the edge of her shoulder, but it wouldn’t quite reach. “Can you unbind my eyes now?” she asked, her politeness ready to veer into incivility if she were refused. She had been patient so far and complied readily with every request made of her, but her patience was readily evaporating under the discomfort of being unable to see.

“Be patient. Just a moment more,” the low whisper came in her ear again.

She heard the sound of a door being unlocked and the creak of the hinges as it opened. The hand on her shoulder propelled her forward a few steps. “Mind the uneven floor,” it warned her, as she stumbled slightly on the carpet beneath her feet.

She heard the door shut behind her and the creak of a key as it turned in the lock. She knew a moment of blinding fear at the sound. Had she been misled? Had she been taken to a prison and locked in?

No, that was impossible. The softness of her footsteps meant that there was a rug under her feet. Dungeons did not usually boast of rugs. Through the blindfold she could see the chamber she was in was brightly lit with many candles. All the dungeons she knew of were badly lacking in candles as well, especially the fine wax ones she could smell here. A thick, soft rug and plenty of fine wax candles. Whoever had brought her here was not lacking in material comforts.

“Hold still,” the low voice instructed her again, “and I will unbind your eyes now.”

The covering over her eyes fell away. Unused to the light, she blinked several times before she adjusted to the glittering brightness in front of her.

The chamber was lined with so many wax candles that it almost seemed as though it were on fire. The light from them glittered and sparkled, setting the crystal chandeliers ablaze with a riot of shimmering rainbows and reflecting off the polished surfaces of the precious gold and silver objects scattered throughout the chamber.

The man with the low voice, dressed in black and his face covered with a mask that disguised his features, melted away into the shadows in the far side of the room.

On a chair in front of her sat a young man – at least she thought it was a man, but the figure was so painted and beribboned that she could not be quite sure. Whoever he was, she was sure he was important, so she took her hat off her head and swept him a low bow.

“You are William Ruthgard?” the figure asked when she was upright again.

“Yes, Monsieur,” she replied, hazarding a guess that the figure was indeed a man by the pitch of his voice.

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