He did so, more to make them complacent by his obedience than anything. But the instant relief in his muscles made it hard not to ease out a long breath. This way he could save his strength.
Audrey looked over at the lady warrior. “He needs to rest now.”
The other woman nodded. Even the bob of her chin bespoke an aura of fierceness. For one so young, she appeared to hold a position of importance in the group. And a woman, no less.
She pushed away from the wall and sauntered over to him, the bottom of her animal-skin cloak swaying with each step. She stopped less than a stride away and dropped to one knee.
He could raise his hands and touch her if he wanted. Try to grab her wrist and overpower her. Though he had a feeling gaining the upper hand against this she-warrior would be no small feat. Especially with his wrists still tied.
“What is your name?” Her accent barely came through this time, just enough to give her an air of mystery.
“Evan.” He met her dark gaze squarely. “What is yours?”
Her eyes gave away none of her thoughts. “I am called Brielle.”
The name suited her. Unusual, yet strong.
“And from where do you hail, Evan?”
Hearing his given name in her voice, with that light accent, captured his attention in a way that distracted him. He forced the thought aside and focused on her question. “I’m from the mountain country, but not this area.” Hopefully she would accept that answer. He couldn’t say he was from America. That would likely raise suspicion about his reason for being so far north and so near the British colonies, while the war raged between the two countries.
And he wouldn’t lie. He’d done enough things he wasn’t proud of in his time as a spy, he didn’t need to compound his sins by building a web of deceit. Usually silence or only a snippet of the truth would suffice.
She studied him, and with the shadows, it was impossible to read her thoughts. She looked to be weighing the truth in his words. Did she realize he’d avoided the question?
Perhaps it was time to ask some questions of his own. He tossed a casual glance around the room. “Where are we?”
She followed his gaze, lingering on the man by the door, then on the brown-haired woman who had risen and returned to her position beside the wall. “This is where we hold our prisoners.” She looked back at him, and he could have sworn her eyes held a glimmer of mirth. “You might call it a dungeon.”
3
Brielle studied the man’s response to her quip. They’d not kept a prisoner here since the Dinee lad they’d caught stealing from one of the supply caves several years back.
From the interest this Englishman tried to mask with a wary gaze, he didn’t seem to know what to make of them. The feeling was mutual, to be sure.
“A dungeon, you say? Have I stumbled upon an ancient castle?” He raised dark brows.
“Not a castle.” How had she let the questioning turn to her people? She had much to discover about this stranger. “I don’t believe you finished telling me of your purpose here.”
“Had I begun to tell you?” A glimmer of concern touched his eyes, as though he might be afraid he’d spoken too much. Either he was hiding something or the effects of the sleeping tincture still muddled his brain.
It was amazing how much power was contained in that combination of herbs Audrey had discovered. Dipping their arrows in the potion had been an act of genius. Of course, the coating typically only helped bring down caribou or deer, in case her arrow didn’t accomplish the task. This was thefirst time she’d had opportunity to see how it worked on a human.
If he truly didn’t remember the scene, perhaps a bit of help would jog his memory. “Oui. You said you’d been looking for a hidden village, then just as you opened your mouth to reveal why, you swooned like a young girl.”
The confusion washing his face cleared within seconds, replaced with a stoic look that didn’t conceal the mirth in his eyes. “You must be mistaken, mademoiselle. I’ve never swooned in my life, nor have I doneanythinglike a young girl.”
She had to bite back a chuckle. In truth, she should be affronted by the distaste with which he spoke the final words. Yet he wasn’t jesting. This strapping fellow seemed as far from a female as night from day. And she’d not missed the muscle rippling across his midsection before Audrey finished the bandage and readjusted his tunic.
But enough of that line of thought. “Please, finish what you began to tell us before.”
His right eye twitched. “I can’t imagine what that might have been. Your arrow had quite an effect on me.” Then both his eyes narrowed. “More effect than simple blood loss. Could it be you added some sort of poison to the tip?”
She worked hard not to show surprise. This man was no simpleton, apparently. Either that, or he was merely drawing from his own past deceptions.
She let a smile touch her mouth. “Very good, monsieur. Not poison, though. Merely a tonic to help our visitors relax.”
He snorted.
