“Why would I pay so much for soiled goods?” Niall again.
Soiled goods? If Niall “tried her” she would be soiled. How dare they speak of her thus.
Brighit whipped open the door and jumped from the carriage. She glared at each man in turn before finally speaking.
“I am not for sale! And...” she took a step up to Niall, who towered over her. The top of her head barely reached his chest. “I am not to be tried.”
She moved in closer. Niall’s face softened. How dare he even think about using his charm on her now? The tears were there again. This slightest show of compassion for her and she would wallow? Hell no! She swallowed her emotions.
“Enough!” The arrogant man stood far too close to her and shouted his orders about as if all should obey him. She turned to him, put her hands on her hips, and stared.
“Yes?” He finally asked. His honeyed voice vibrated through her. One heavy brow tipped up expectantly. “Didyouhave something to add to this discussion?” His words dripped with sarcasm.
Brighit snapped. She slapped him roundly on the side of the face. The sound resounded in her ears. “How dare you reveal me in such a state of undress!”
“Had I known why the carriage rocked of its own accord, I would not have needed to pull back the curtain and…reveal you.” His full lips dipped in at the corners as if suppressing a grin. “Perhaps it was not your best idea to be hiding naked.”
Peter’s face throbbed and he wanted to rub his cheek. This time he saw the hand coming and stopped it short of its mark. He gripped her small wrist. Her vein pulsed beneath his fingers. Her eyes black with anger. She was a feisty one.
“Once, I may forgive, but twice will have you over my knee. And I will not mind your embarrassment.” He spoke in a low tone for her ears only.
For a moment, he saw the fear and indecision cross her face. His heart lurched. She relaxed her arm and allowed him to lower it to her side.
“I was merely trying to dress in a very small area. I was not ‘hiding naked’.” She spat the words at him. Her expression spoke of her betrayal at his hands. The unspoken accusation hit him hard.
But she continued her tirade and stomped right over to Ivan and kicked him in the shins. “How dare you try to sell me!”
A fearsome look of rage swept across Ivan’s face. He raised his hand to her so quickly that Peter hesitated, but was able to block the man’s fist, pressing his body between them.
“Desist,” Peter said.
This man had shown little fighting ability among the other men, yet he vented his anger and frustration on an unarmed woman? Not while Peter was nearby. He shoved at him.
A glance behind him revealed a changed woman, like night and day, one who now backed toward the carriage, cowering. He turned to face her.
“What is amiss here?”
Now her wide eyes spoke only of her mistrust. She shook her head and took a shaky breath. “There is naught amiss.”
The memory of her in the carriage, surprised but defiant, flashed through his mind.
Ivan moved closer, swaggering, and pulled himself up to his full height which was only as high as Peter’s shoulder.
“Do you often lay hands on women in anger?” Peter asked.
“She is in my care,” he answered, sounding more like a growling animal than a man, then sneered at his “ward”.
The implication of that statement came out of nowhere. The sight of her standing naked in the carriage assailed him again. One arm across her lovely breasts which swelled over it, leaving one fetching, pink nipple exposed. Her other hand placed over the silken triangle of hair, merely calling attention to the promised treasure that lay within.
“Are you truly in this man’s care?”
“I am.” Her voice quivered. There was something unspoken. Desperation!
“We appreciate your assistance, my lord,” Ivan’s tone dismissed Peter. “I’m sure we can work this out amongst ourselves from here.”
Ivan extended his hand toward him as if nothing untoward had transpired. Peter seethed. He refused the hand.
Ivan dropped his arm. “I have been given the charge to see her safely to a convent not far from here.”
