Angie Arms - Flame Series 03 by The Darkest Flame Read Free Book Online

and without thinking, she bade the knocker enter.  Servants flowed in, baring a tub and steaming buckets of water.  It didn’t take long for the tub to be filled and they all left, save for one.  The woman was tall and willowy, quite beautiful, at least at one time.  Her hair was so blond it was nearly white, attesting to the fairness of her skin before it was blistered by the sun.
    “Lord Fenton bade me assist you.”
    “I have my own maid.  If you would let my guard know, he will have her sent for.”
    A horrified look crossed her face , followed by stark fear.  “But The Bastard has told me.  He will punish me if I do not.”
    Ryann stared at this woman quaking in fear and she began to shake.  “What has he done to you?”
    “I come from Marlet.  He and his men,” she suddenly grew quiet and even paler.  She shook her head, as if to get rid of the nightmares.  “His man Marcus keeps a witch, and the Bastard commands an army of monsters.”
    “He is to be my husband.”
    “May he show mercy to you then miss,” she said, with all sincerity.  Then she smiled, finding optimism to offer, “It will be okay.  We can bear it, whatever comes, we will be able to bare it.  Come, your water is getting cold.  I should not tell you these things.  The Bastard may not like me telling you these things.”
    “Don’t worry,” Ryann said , putting a reassuring hand on her arm.  “I won’t let him know.”  She unfastened the kirtle at her waist and added, “What is your name?”
    “Una, my lady,” she said , offering a curtsy.
    “Please do not call him that again.”
    It took but a moment for her to figure out it was “The Bastard,” to which she referred.  “Yes my lady,”
    Once settled in the tub , her hair washed and trailing in the water, she lay back, letting the kinks of the last few days flow out of her.  “Tell me more of this witch.”  She did not believe in witches, but any conversation was better than leaving her to her own imaginings.
    “She was a real beauty, that one.  Taller than me, hair as black as a raven’s wing.  They say she was an emir’s witch and the Bas… Lord Fenton , stole her away and gave her to Marcus when he tired of her.”
    “Where is she now?”
    “Still with Marcus.”
    What kind of life was she facing she wondered , as she considered the men she was now surrounded by.  The door slamming into the wall of her chamber made her jump, and a short shriek escaped the servant, before she abruptly cut it off and shrank away from the intruder.
    Long powerful strides carried Garrick toward the hearth , where she huddled in the tub.  His eyes never strayed toward her, for she would feel them, but kept them on his armor, his face etched in granite.  He picked up his sword, and studied it before propping it in the floor against the chair leg, before his eyes fell on her.  He knew she moved it.  He stared at her for the longest moment, hiding behind the edge of the tub.  His eyes left her and went to the girl, “Leave us,” he commanded, and all Ryann heard was the rush of feet as the woman fled.
    Garrick advanced to stand over her, his eyes glued to hers.  Then he turned his head toward the door, his face still unreadable , but she heard the threat behind the order he gave to Christopher to shut the door.  Her eyes refused to leave Garrick, she heard her guard enter the room slowly, pause as he took the door in hand, pausing again before he moved to close it.  The sound of the door closing was like a final death toll.  Garrick didn’t move for the longest moment and all that could be heard in the chamber was their breathing.  Then he turned and his eyes were on her, and lingered only on her face for the briefest of moments before travelling down her body, as she curled her knees up to her breasts.
    She began to speak , but he stopped her with a soft “shhh,” whispering past his lips.  He knelt before her, his face only inches from hers.  His hand