And she would be rescued, she told herself firmly. She had more confidence in that than in her chances of escaping, especially since she would have to flee on foot. The fact that she would be on foot if she escaped would not stop her from trying if the chance to flee came her way, however. Arianna knew she did not have Brian’s skill at slipping through the shadows, or even hiding in them, but she had watched him do it enough to have learned a few things. What she had learned might be enough to help her at least stay hidden while Amiel and his men hunted for her.
“Well, I believe she is awake, or very nearly so,” said Sir Anton.
“Kick her then. If she is awake that will make her cease her games.”
“I will not kick a woman, especially not an unconscious woman lying on the ground.”
“Such a tender heart you have, my fine knight. I must wonder what hold the DeVeaux have upon you as you are far too concerned with what is right and proper to deal weel with them. But, not to worry this time. I am not burdened by such weaknesses.”
Arianna did not move fast enough to completely evade Amiel’s boot. He struck her in the lower back as she rolled away from him and struck her hard enough to make her gasp with pain. She was still panting from that pain when he grabbed her by the arm and yanked her to her feet. Nausea clenched her stomach as the pain from the blow on her head swept over her. For a moment, she instinctively fought the urge to empty her stomach, but then caught sight of Amiel’s boots. With a groan, she bent toward them and allowed her stomach to have its way.
Amiel’s cry of disgust and outrage gave her a brief moment of pleasure. That was abruptly ended when his fist hit her jaw. She sprawled on her back on the hard dirt floor of the cottage, the force of the blow knocking her away from him and his soiled boots. Arianna cursed herself for provoking the man. If she suffered more injuries she would never be able to take advantage of any opportunity to escape. The way she hurt now, she was surprised she was still conscious and rather wished she was not. A convenient swoon might save her from feeling any more pain but her body was not cooperating with her wish. Instead, she struggled to sit up.
One tall, thin man stood back from Amiel and his lackeys. Watching everything with a frown. Arianna was sure that was Sir Anton, the man who had been so outraged at the suggestion that he kick an unconscious woman. She wondered if he could prove to be a possible ally, but her head was throbbing so badly that she could barely think straight. One needed one’s full wits sharp to turn a man against the others he rode with, especially to make any man betray the DeVeaux. Arianna was not sure she would be allowed any time to think clearly anyway, or be eased from her pain, as long as she remained a captive of Amiel. Claud had been subtly cruel. Amiel was openly vicious.
“You bitch!” Amiel cried once his boots were clean. “You did that on purpose.”
Just to be contrary, Arianna refused to speak to him in French. “I did it because ye hit me on the head. Emptying one’s belly after such a blow is common. Your boots were just in my way.”
He slapped her and Arianna could see bursts of light behind her lids when she closed her eyes against this new pain. The fear that he was going to beat her to death rose up but she fought it. If that was his plan there was not much she could do to stop him but she did not plan to make it easy for him. She placed her hands on the ground, hung her head, and tried to breathe through the worst of the pain. When she looked at Amiel again she did nothing to hide her contempt or anger.
“You will regret that, you little bitch,” Amiel said, his voice shaking with the fury he could not hide.
“Och, ye greedy swine, I have many regrets already,” she said as she forced herself back on her feet. “The greatest of those is that I e’er met your thrice-cursed family. Are ye verra certain ye are Lucettes?”
“Of course we are. You, however, never were.”
Arianna wondered why those words did not hurt. Amiel just spoke aloud what his whole family had felt about her. She had never been accepted, never been allowed to become a part of the family, and that had always hurt her before. Perhaps, she finally realized, she simply did not care and had not for quite a while. If she had not thought herself married to Claud the pig she would have ceased trying to please her new family a long, long time ago. She had never liked any of them save for young Paul.
“I find myself rather pleased by that,” she said, and staggered when he slapped her again.
“Where are my brother’s little bastards?”
The man did not give her any chance to reply before he slapped her again, catching her with a hard backhand swing for the second blow that sent her back to the floor. Through the pounding in her ears, she could hear arguing. Rolling slowly onto her side, she saw that Sir Anton now stood between her and Amiel.
“You did not allow her to answer,” said Sir Anton.
“And how is that your concern?” Amiel eased his dagger from the sheath at his waist. “Too weak of stomach to do as you should, Sir Anton?”
“The DeVeaux want her alive. I also do not believe beating her to death is either right or will accomplish anything.”
Arianna was just thinking that the man was brave but very foolish when Amiel stabbed Sir Anton. Amiel smiled in a way that chilled her as he yanked his dagger out of the man’s side and watched Sir Anton slowly fall to his knees. Still smiling, he kicked Sir Anton aside and looked at her again. There was such a gleam of violence in his eyes that, if she could move, she would be running for her life.
Two of the men riding with Amiel moved to help Sir Anton get back on his feet. Another looked at Amiel, his hand clutching the hilt of his sword. Arianna suspected the man was a DeVeaux soldier and was wondering just how far he should go in defending a fellow DeVeaux man.
“Lord Ignace will not be pleased if you murder the man he married his cousin off to,” the man said. “It was not easy to find someone to take the woman.”
“I have not killed the fool,” snapped Amiel, turning toward the man.
The other men quickly joined in the resulting argument, obviously intent upon reminding Amiel just whom he owed his allegiance to. It was clear for Arianna to see that Amiel did not like to be reminded. As she began to crawl out of the cottage, she prayed the men would decide that argument was futile and just kill him.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw Sir Anton move to lean up against the wall. He was watching her but said nothing, making no attempt to draw the attention of the others to what she was doing. Arianna suspected he saw no gain in telling Amiel that his prisoner was trying to escape for they both knew she had very little chance of accomplishing it. It was going to be a while before she could even stand up without risking complete unconsciousness.
Just as she reached the middle of the cleared area in front of the cottage, the carefully tended ground already badly marred by the men’s horses, she rose up on her knees. Her vision was not completely clear and the throbbing in her head made her stomach churn, but Arianna slowly forced herself to her feet.
“Where do you think you are going?”
Arianna looked toward her horse and sighed. There was no chance that she could reach it, mount, and ride away before she was caught. She simply did not have the strength. There was no doubt in her mind that, after only a few steps, if she did not fall down, she would be knocked down. She turned to face Amiel. It was not easy to keep her gaze fixed on him when she could see Sir Anton stealthily making his way to the horses.
