“It sounds, my lady, as if you would offer me a bargain. Surely you cannot have become fond of this villain while in his captivity?”
“Perhaps I have not a warrior’s tolerance for bloodshed in the name of justice,” she said. “Perhaps I have been overly sheltered in my life.”
“That was not the tale I heard.”
Evangeline lifted her chin. “Perhaps I would accompany you willingly, sir, and wed you gratefully, if you refrained from shedding this man’s blood before my very eyes.”
Rufus stared at her and she realized there had never been any doubt in his mind that she would do as much, that in truth she had naught with which to bargain. She feared that he would slaughter Ramsay and take pleasure in prolonging the other man’s death, and that he would seize her afterward. She knew he would refuse her and perhaps she would die here, on this road, alongside Ramsay.
Then Rufus smiled and the sight was utterly chilling. The curve of his lips did naught to soften his expression or even to thaw the ice in his eyes. “I accept your wager, my lady,” he said, his voice so low with menace that she could scarce suppress a shiver. “But my terms are that you will ride with me.”
Evangeline could imagine no worse fate. Would he stab her while they rode, or lock his hands around her throat to choke the life from her? She could not believe these men would ever give witness against their lord, for their expressions were as ferocious as his own.
“I have feared for you, after all,” Rufus continued smoothly. “And only the press of you against me, close where I can defend you from all threats, will reassure me.”
His manner filled Evangeline with fear. But what choice had she? She would not think of a world without Ramsay MacLaren in it. She could not be with him, for she knew she would not survive long in Rufus’ custody, but she would know she had saved her beloved.
And that would have to suffice.
’Twas a poor moment to realize she loved Ramsay with all her heart and had never told him of it.
Evangeline stepped forward and placed her hand in Rufus’, closing her eyes as he lifted her to his saddle. “Of course, my lord. How could I refuse so reasonable a request?”
He looked down at her hand, then frowned at something. He seized her left hand, glaring at the small gold ring upon it, then tore it from her finger with vigor. “À mon seul désir,” he sneered, reading the inscription.
For my one desire.Evangeline’s heart tightened so that she could scarce breathe.
Then Rufus flung the ring toward Ramsay. It bounced from Ramsay’s jerkin to land in the dust, rolling a little before it stopped. Evangeline thought she had never seen a sight so forlorn as that ring, with that inscription, abandoned beside a fallen man.
Aye, it nigh broke her heart in two.
Ramsay.
Rufus smiled as he watched her reaction, then he pivoted and slashed his sword across the flank of Basilisk. The destrier shied and neighed, spinning to race to the north. Evangeline dared give no hint of her horror for she knew Rufus watched her closely.
“But my lord, the horses are fine…”
“I will take naught from this ruffian,” he said in a growl, inflicting a similar wound upon Foudre. It said much of the horse’s previous treatment that he was as shocked and dismayed as Basilisk. He kicked at a man who reached for his reins and bit at another with a vigor he might have learned from Basilisk in their short acquaintance, then he fled, reins trailing, after the black destrier.
Evangeline watched, her heart in her throat as Rufus kicked dust over Ramsay’s fallen form. The ring was nigh obscured. She did not trust Rufus to simply walk away, but was so relieved when he did that her knees nearly gave out beneath her.
He picked up Ramsay’s crossbow, smiling a little as he examined it. Then he mounted behind her, pulling her against him with an iron grip, the crossbow hung from his saddle.
“You learn quickly, my lady,” he murmured into her hair as he turned the horse. “Do not be so fool as to defy me again and you may survive until our nuptials.”
But even though she knew it would only feed the ire of her betrothed, Evangeline could not keep herself from looking back at Ramsay’s still form, abandoned in the middle of the road. She had never been biddable and she doubted she would have much opportunity to learn.
In a fortnight or less, she would be dead, but she had no regrets of her choice.
Chapter 11
Ramsay awakened when something nuzzled his hair. He ached so that he knew he would be black and blue. He winced even at moving his arm to swat away the assailant, not wanting to open his eyes and witness the damage. He knew Evangeline had to be gone, for he could hear naught at all.
Whoever it was nudged him, then nipped at his ear and he guessed what creature strove to awaken him. The prospect almost made him smile, but it tore his heart harder. Who was most loyal to Evangeline? Who had prompted him before to come to the lady’s aid? Aye, there could be only one.
When he did not immediately move, a hoof was stamped in close proximity to his head. This was followed by a spray of horse snot when Basilisk exhaled with indignation at being ignored.
Ramsay opened his eyes to find that all he could see was velvety black nostrils. He pushed the horse’s nose away. “You!” The black destrier retreated a step, still stamping, and tossed his head. There was a glint in his eyes and he nickered, as if to chastise Ramsay for daring to be injured in his lady’s defense.
