“How curious it must be to have none,” Evangeline countered, keeping her tone light.
One of the beaters whistled and she saw the hind of a deer as it bolted into the forest.
Rufus sat taller in the saddle. “Come, my lady. This one shall be ours!”
To her dismay, he slapped the rump of her palfrey hard and the creature leapt forward. Then he seized Gealaich’s reins, forcing the horse to keep pace with his own much larger steed. Evangeline bit her tongue, for she would have chastised anyone else for such a foolish gesture, holding tightly to the reins instead of provoking his ire.
Rufus urged his destrier to gallop into the forest, leaving the beaters and remainder of the party behind. Perhaps they knew to leave him to his quarry when he claimed it thus. It was disconcerting how quickly Evangeline found herself alone with her betrothed. If there were paths in these dense woods, Evangeline could not discern them, and she considered Rufus’ speed reckless given the conditions.
She tugged the reins in Rufus’ hand with vigor. “You hamper my command of the steed, sir,” she said, unable to keep completely silent, and he granted her a look so chilling that she knew her own peril.
He reined in hard, hauling her palfrey to a halt so abruptly that Evangeline was almost thrown to the ground. Only her skill and the simmer of her fury kept her in the saddle.
“I do apologize,” he said, his tone making the opposite clear. So chilly was his gaze that Evangeline felt a flicker of fear.
“Unhand the reins, sir,” she commanded, reaching for the knife hidden in her boot. “’Tis not prudent to ride thus.”
“I shall show you my regard for prudence.” He lunged forward, making the palfrey stumble, snatching Evangeline around the waist, then pulled her hard toward him. She rode side-saddle, her perch atop the horse less certain than would be ideal, and lost her balance with his move. She saw the glimpse of his smile and reached for the hilt of Nigel’s dagger as Rufus hauled her forcibly onto his horse before him. He spurred his destrier as her fingertips brushed the hilt, leaving her palfrey behind, the great stallion leaping through the forest with his encouragement.
The fiend! If she had not been so intent on fulfilling his expectations, she would have ridden astride this day and his ploy would have failed. She struggled against his grip but he was stronger than her and she was at an awkward angle.
Evangeline did not doubt it was deliberate.
“Make a sound and I will ensure you never make another,” Rufus said darkly when she parted her lips. But one look at his set features convinced her of the truth and Evangeline remained silent.
For now.
How would she surprise him and escape?
They emerged suddenly from the cover of the forest into the sunlight. Rufus reined in hard on the brink of a sparkling stream, then flung Evangeline forward. She fell into the water, landing on her feet with a stumble, then spun to face him.
“Wretch!” she had time to cry. The water was up to her knees, her kirtle becoming even heavier as the wool took on the weight of the water. Rufus leapt from his saddle in pursuit, intent bright in his eye, and kicked her feet out from beneath her. She had a sense of his enjoyment of the situation as she fell. Then she felt his gloved hand on the back of her neck. She saw the water before her eyes as he pushed her face into it, and knew she was not intended to leave this stream alive.
That was all the encouragement she needed. Evangeline drew the knife from her boot, spun and jabbed upward with all her might. Rufus guessed her intention and twisted away, but the blade cut a line up the inside of his arm. He stared at the flow of blood on his sleeve in astonishment, then his expression became furious. He raised a hand to strike her down and Evangeline lifted the blade before herself, backing away from him.
He was a monster, to be sure.
Ramsay had been right.
“Do not touch me,” she warned, her grasp sure on the knife.
“You must see reason, my lady,” he said, speaking to her as if she were a fool. “I cannot wed you, not when you can so readily betray me. Every moment you survive, the risk to me increases.” He stalked her like the hunter he was. “And yet, I will not break off the match and return your dowry either. I deserve that coin and those alliances.”
Deserve?
Though she yearned to tell him the truth of her view, Evangeline would ensure her escape first.
“I could swear to keep your secret,” she said.
Rufus laughed. “And why would I believe any pledge from the get of thieves and ruffians?” he demanded then suddenly lunged forward to snatch at her knife. Evangeline put it behind her back, out of his reach, but when he snatched at her, she took too hasty a step back and stumbled on the loose stones of the river bed. He gave her a timely shove, then stood over her within a heartbeat, smiling as he drew his hunting knife.
“You would not,” she whispered, fearing that he would. “Your crime would be discovered with ease.”
“Only if your corpse was found. This stream flows quickly.” He spoke calmly, too calmly to reassure her. “Even the blood will be dispersed with haste.”
Then he moved abruptly again, pushing her backward so that she stumbled anew. “But perhaps you are right, my lady. A wound would be unnecessary.” His brows rose and his eyes glinted coldly. “After all, anyone could drown in such a stream.”
It was a warning, but not one Evangeline had time to act upon. She tried to scream, but instead took a mouthful of river water as Rufus pushed her beneath the surface and held her there. His grip was tight on the back of her neck.
