Falling for Her Captor. Elisabeth Hobbes
groom. What happened to him?’
‘He betrayed you and tried to violate you, but you care how he died?’ The man raised his eyebrows in surprise.
‘I didn’t say I cared. I said I wanted to know what had happened!’ Aline snapped.
Her fury must have hit a target because the Captain’s expression softened, then became serious.
He sat down next to her on the step, his shoulder brushing hers, and set his jaw. ‘As you must have guessed by now, he worked for my lord. He had been a groom in the citadel, then a criminal under sentence of death. He was offered a pardon in exchange for working his way into your household and bringing you to us.’
‘What had he done?’ Aline asked. Her hands curled into fists at the thought of how easily Leavingham’s security had been breached.
‘His crime? I am not sure. I did not play any part in choosing him,’ the Captain explained. ‘My only part in the affair was to meet him and escort you to Roxholm. We were to send him back to Leavingham alive, but battered. He had to keep up his story of heroically defending you against us.’
He paused and a strange look crossed his face that Aline did not fully understand. She wondered briefly if he was holding something back.
The Captain continued his tale. ‘He must have believed he was a dead man once his task was done, or maybe he took exception to my timing, because he produced a knife and attacked me. I had to act in self-defence. I do not regret his death, though, given what he was preparing to do. Neither should you.’
Aline exhaled deeply and her shoulders sagged as she felt the tension leaving her. ‘Thank you for telling me,’ she said. ‘And thank you for...’ Her voice tailed off as her mind played out the memory of Dickon’s mouth and hands roaming across her unwilling body. Her mouth twisted into a grimace.
When the Captain spoke next his voice was unexpectedly gentle. ‘You should get some sleep, my lady. You have had a hard day and we’ll be back on the road early. I give you my word that you will come to no such harm again.’
The memory of the Captain’s body on hers as they had struggled on the ground came back to Aline in a flash, along with the words she had screamed at him and the manner in which he had countered her assumption. He had said she was safe from...that, but could she trust him?
As if he was reading Aline’s thoughts, the Captain unrolled the blanket and wrapped it snugly around her shoulders with a smile. ‘You need have no fear for your safety in any respect whilst you are in my charge. I will keep you safe.’
He walked back to the fire, wrapped his own blanket around his body, and lay down, arms crossed over his chest. He was soon snoring gently, as though he had no cares in the world, and as though he had not just calmly told her of the death of a man and left her chained in the dark!
Aline climbed off the step and lay on the bedroll placed for her on the ground. His body had been warm next to hers and the air was chilly in comparison. She wrapped her blanket tighter and curled into a ball, hating him and doubting she would find such peace herself that night.
As Aline had expected, she slept badly that night. The blanket did little to keep out the chill and damp and she lay awake, resentfully watching the silhouettes of the sleeping men round the fire. Every time she almost found a comfortable position the manacles dug into her wrists and dragged her back to consciousness, and more than once she found herself stifling a scream of frustration. As a result, her slumber had been light, every sound waking her in a fog of confusion. A soft grey dawn was already replacing the moonlight before exhaustion defeated her discomfort. Unable to keep her eyes open any longer, she fell dreamlessly into a true sleep.
A gentle pat on the shoulder roused Aline to consciousness. She lay with her eyes closed, ignoring it as best she could. A slightly harder shake of her shoulder caused her to let off a stream of angry obscenities.
She opened her eyes to find Jack staring at her, open-mouthed. She glared at him through her tangle of hair and his face took on an injured expression. A stab of remorse pricked Aline’s conscience, quickly replaced by irritation for being soft-hearted. Didn’t she have every reason to curse? She was stiff and cold, never mind being held against her will. The lad really should learn not to take things so personally.
She sat up, wrapping the dew-damp blanket around her shoulders, and rubbed her eyes sleepily.
The Captain strolled over to where Aline sat. He knelt down facing her, unlocked the cuffs and gathered up the chains. ‘Time we were moving, my lady. I let you sleep as long as I could.’
‘How kind of you!’ Aline looked him up and down with exaggerated care. His hair was damp and he had changed his tunic for a fresh one, over which he wore a sleeveless jerkin of soft leather. He looked well rested and Aline immediately hated him for it. ‘Did your consideration extend to bringing some clean clothes for me?’ she asked haughtily.
The Captain had the grace to look uncomfortable. ‘Alas, no. Though there is fresh water if you would like to wash before we leave, and Duncan will find you some breakfast.’
Aline longed for a bath, but had to content herself with a quick rinse of her face and teeth in cold water. She pulled the comb from her hair and plaited it into a long braid. Duncan brought her over a hunk of bread and a mug of warm, honeyed ale. The bread was old, but dipped in the sweet liquid it was possibly the most welcome meal she could remember.
The Captain left Aline unrestrained, as he had promised, and she dozed, soothed by the rocking of the vehicle as it sped along.
During the afternoon she sat towards the back of the cart, staring out through the curtains. Duncan and Jack alternated between driving the cart and riding the brown mare but the Captain rode his own mount possessively. The animal seemed remarkably suited to his owner: a chestnut stallion with glistening flanks and an assured gait that Aline could not help but admire.
They kept to forest tracks as much as possible, though as the ground became swampier they were forced back onto roads. Any hope Aline had of being able to attract aid was soon dashed, and pangs of homesickness gripped her as they left her home further behind.
Whenever passing through settlements was unavoidable the Captain would hitch his horse to the cart, climb inside and sit opposite Aline, his dagger unsheathed, ready should he need to silence her. He would hold her gaze intently. as though he were a cat watching a mouse, his blue eyes boring into her. After the third time he paused as he climbed out, and gave Aline an unexpected smile.
‘I trust that you are not finding the journey too disagreeable, Lady Aline?’
It was the first time he had spoken to her since setting off other than to issue terse instructions. Caught unawares, she felt disinclined to be sociable with him. ‘Would it matter if I was?’ she replied bitterly.
The Captain looked taken aback by the venom in her voice, his smile vanishing instantly. He nodded curtly before climbing down. Aline watched him with curiosity through the opening, wondering why her reaction had surprised him.
It was late afternoon before the Captain signalled the cart to stop. Other than the chunk of bread at sunrise and an apple at midday Aline had eaten nothing, and her stomach was starting to complain. Jack walked over, carrying a bag, and handed it to her. She examined the contents: a bundle of rosemary, mushrooms and a handful of onions. He produced a knife and held it out expectantly.
‘Isn’t it enough that you have kidnapped me without expecting me to cook for you?’ Aline said haughtily, pushing the bag back at him.
The Captain looked over from where he was unsaddling his stallion. ‘If you don’t help then you don’t eat. Though I suppose a lady as fine as yourself has little experience of such menial tasks.’
Aline bit back her first impulse to retort angrily and smiled sweetly, replying in a voice that dripped honey. ‘On the contrary,