Knight's Captive by Samantha Holt Read Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Samantha Holt
hinder him, not when her
father’s life was at stake.
“Very well. Do you
have a mantle? There is a chill coming off the sea today.”
She shook her head. The housekeeper had only
given her the dress, borrowed from one of the serving girls. All her other
belongings had gone down with the ship. She had little, so she didn’t grieve
for them but there had been some beautiful gowns in amongst them. What would
Henry think if he saw her in one? Would he treat her differently?
He unfastened the cloak he had so diligently
placed over his shoulder and handed it over. “Put that on and I’ll request a
horse to be saddled for you.”
Before she could utter her thanks, he had strode out of the door, leaving her clutching the warm wool.
It smelled of him—of soap and something else. Something that tugged silently at
her insides and made her think of warm embraces and sweet
kisses.
Of course, those things did not really exist in
anything but the mind of a woman. Lorenzo had been free with his kisses and
sometimes even his embraces, but there was always malice and manipulation
behind them. All the other men she had met had been the same. Before her
marriage, their eyes had been on her dowry and little else. Each kiss to her
fingers and any flattering words were all to do with what they could get from
her.
She wrapped the cloak about her, forced herself
not to inhale the scent. Henry had uttered few kind words and had offered no
kisses. But he had offered her this—for no reason but to keep the chill away.
Was it a selfless act or did he too have some other motivation?
When she stepped out of the front of the house,
Antonia noted that a brisk breeze did indeed carry across the headland. From
behind the shelter of the house, she had been unaware of the salty scent
whispering across the cliffs. The day proved clear with a few puffs of white
clouds like soapy bubbles drifting across a watery surface. Antonia had never
been to England before. She had heard it was cold and wet. Yet, in spite of the
slight chill in the air, the country did not seem nearly as grim as she thought
it might be.
Mayhap she could almost understand why her
father had insisted they start a new life here.
She strode down the front path and paused at the
two stone walls that stopped either side of it. This was her prison. There were
no gates or iron bars. Only honour and duty kept her here. No shackles or guards.
Yet if she left, she would be abandoning her father. After being imprisoned by
one man, the desire to dash forward and run until she could run no more warred
inside her. But she would never abandon her father.
“Antonia?” Henry called behind her.
She twisted and began to head back to the house.
His scowl was etched deep indeed by the time she came back to his side as he
held the reins of two horses in one hand.
“I hope you will remember that you are on enemy
lands here. The English do not take well to those who would try to invade them.
You may be under house arrest but you are also under my protection here.”
Protection? Si , protection indeed. This man was so fierce and
warrior-like that she could see no man wishing to go up against him. But who
was to protect her against him?
She ignored his words and opened a palm for the
reins. He handed them over and she paused to stroke a hand over the pale mount.
The beast nuzzled her palm and she allowed herself a smile. “Her nombre ? Her name?”
“Swift Foot.”
“I hope she lives up to her name.”
“She will. I hope you can keep up with me.”
“What benefit is it to you to find my father?
Surely you are not searching the lands for every drowned Spanish man?”
“Not every Spanish man is the commander of a
ship.”
“And that is it, is it? He is more important
than the rest because of his position?”
“Antonia, if you are searching for other
motivation, you shall find none.” He moved past her and climbed into the saddle
with ease. “Now make haste. We have much land to
father’s life was at stake.
“Very well. Do you
have a mantle? There is a chill coming off the sea today.”
She shook her head. The housekeeper had only
given her the dress, borrowed from one of the serving girls. All her other
belongings had gone down with the ship. She had little, so she didn’t grieve
for them but there had been some beautiful gowns in amongst them. What would
Henry think if he saw her in one? Would he treat her differently?
He unfastened the cloak he had so diligently
placed over his shoulder and handed it over. “Put that on and I’ll request a
horse to be saddled for you.”
Before she could utter her thanks, he had strode out of the door, leaving her clutching the warm wool.
It smelled of him—of soap and something else. Something that tugged silently at
her insides and made her think of warm embraces and sweet
kisses.
Of course, those things did not really exist in
anything but the mind of a woman. Lorenzo had been free with his kisses and
sometimes even his embraces, but there was always malice and manipulation
behind them. All the other men she had met had been the same. Before her
marriage, their eyes had been on her dowry and little else. Each kiss to her
fingers and any flattering words were all to do with what they could get from
her.
She wrapped the cloak about her, forced herself
not to inhale the scent. Henry had uttered few kind words and had offered no
kisses. But he had offered her this—for no reason but to keep the chill away.
Was it a selfless act or did he too have some other motivation?
When she stepped out of the front of the house,
Antonia noted that a brisk breeze did indeed carry across the headland. From
behind the shelter of the house, she had been unaware of the salty scent
whispering across the cliffs. The day proved clear with a few puffs of white
clouds like soapy bubbles drifting across a watery surface. Antonia had never
been to England before. She had heard it was cold and wet. Yet, in spite of the
slight chill in the air, the country did not seem nearly as grim as she thought
it might be.
Mayhap she could almost understand why her
father had insisted they start a new life here.
She strode down the front path and paused at the
two stone walls that stopped either side of it. This was her prison. There were
no gates or iron bars. Only honour and duty kept her here. No shackles or guards.
Yet if she left, she would be abandoning her father. After being imprisoned by
one man, the desire to dash forward and run until she could run no more warred
inside her. But she would never abandon her father.
“Antonia?” Henry called behind her.
She twisted and began to head back to the house.
His scowl was etched deep indeed by the time she came back to his side as he
held the reins of two horses in one hand.
“I hope you will remember that you are on enemy
lands here. The English do not take well to those who would try to invade them.
You may be under house arrest but you are also under my protection here.”
Protection? Si , protection indeed. This man was so fierce and
warrior-like that she could see no man wishing to go up against him. But who
was to protect her against him?
She ignored his words and opened a palm for the
reins. He handed them over and she paused to stroke a hand over the pale mount.
The beast nuzzled her palm and she allowed herself a smile. “Her nombre ? Her name?”
“Swift Foot.”
“I hope she lives up to her name.”
“She will. I hope you can keep up with me.”
“What benefit is it to you to find my father?
Surely you are not searching the lands for every drowned Spanish man?”
“Not every Spanish man is the commander of a
ship.”
“And that is it, is it? He is more important
than the rest because of his position?”
“Antonia, if you are searching for other
motivation, you shall find none.” He moved past her and climbed into the saddle
with ease. “Now make haste. We have much land to