Damsel in Distress by Shannon Drake & Heather Graham

Author:Shannon Drake & Heather Graham [Drake, Shannon & Graham, Heather]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781453259443
Publisher: Open Road Media
Published: 2012-09-15T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

KAT PACED THE CONFINES of her bedchamber in a fury of thought and motion.

God in his heaven! What was she going to do now? She damned the Silver Sword to a dozen painful deaths, still unable to grasp the fact that the man had betrayed her.

He had never made her any promises, she reminded herself. He had been set on turning her over to Montjoy. But if he had been so set, and if he admired the man so very much, how could he have made love to her?

And how could she have enjoyed it?

No!

She couldn’t think about it. She dared not think about it. Her cheeks grew too hot, and a wild sense of panic swept through her once again.

He had not just given her to Montjoy. He had betrayed her, and then given her to Montjoy. And after bursting into the cottage and so coldly informing her what was to be, Montjoy had ordered that she be given a cloak and taken home. One of his men had rushed in with cloak, and that same man had courteously escorted her outside to a small mare that had evidently been brought along for her use.

Montjoy had had nothing else to say to her. He had been impatiently waiting at the head of his party of men, and as soon as she was mounted, he was ready to ride. She had been afraid that he planned to take her to his home, Clifford Castle, but thankfully, he had not.

But upon their arrival at the castle, he had lifted her down from the mare himself. He had tried to speak with her then—to push the idea of an immediate marriage, she was certain—but her wits had come about her at last and she had tossed back her hair, forced her voice to be both soft and caring, and pleaded exhaustion and a chance to bathe and rest before he should speak with her anymore.

And so she was now upstairs in her own chamber, awaiting bathwater, while Montjoy was downstairs, speaking with her household servants, introducing himself as their new lord and master.

A tap sounded on her door. She strode across to it and threw it open. Marie was there, red-cheeked and beaming. “Kat!” she cried, enfolding her mistress tightly in her arms. And Kat hugged her in return, suddenly riddled by guilt. She had forgotten just what good people she had, and how concerned they must have been for her safety. “Ah, love! We worried about you so! The whole of the castle knew that you had escaped those wretched henchmen of de la Ville’s.” She paused, clapping her hands. “Ah, that wonderful man! It was a miracle! He’d come to save you!” Marie sighed deeply, and with pleasure, looking heavenward as if the Silver Sword had arrived by some divine intervention. “The saints be praised, for they sent one of their own down among us!”

“The man is no saint, pray trust me on that!” Kat said, and drew Marie into her room.

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