No Longer a Gentleman by Mary Jo Putney Read Free Book Online

away and his guard was hungry. As she set the tray on the end of the table, she surreptitiously studied the guardroom. There were several chairs and cards on the other end of the desk, where the guard had been playing some form of solitaire. This job must be insanely boring.
    As soon as Cassie set a steaming bowl down, the guard sat and dug into the stew. She poured wine from the decanter she’d brought. “I have meals for the prisoners as well. Are they through that door?”
    The guard nodded and slurped some wine. “The cells are there, but don’t worry. Leave the tray and I’ll take their food in after I’ve eaten.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “If there’s any left after I eat! I’m that hungry, I am.”
    So if he was feeling greedy, the prisoners would starve? Concealing her anger, she said amiably, “If you need more food for them, I’ll bring it down when I come back for the bowls. And maybe a little more wine for you, eh?”
    The guard gave her a gap-toothed smile. “You understand what a man needs, grandmère.” He ripped off a piece of the bread and dipped it into the stew.
    A ring of keys hung from a nail by the door that led to the cells. Though Kirkland had sent Cassie only to verify his information, there would never be a better chance to free Wyndham if he was here. Even if he wasn’t, Cassie would release any other poor devil languishing in this hellhole.
    The guard was paying no attention to her, so Cassie stepped behind him and applied hard pressure to two carefully chosen spots in his thick neck.
    “Merde!” As the blood flow was cut off, the guard jerked and started a protest, then slumped forward into his dinner. Cassie maintained the pressure long enough to ensure that he was thoroughly unconscious.
    After releasing the hold, she efficiently bound his wrists and ankles and gagged him. Another moment to stow him behind the desk so he wouldn’t be immediately visible if anyone entered, and then she snatched up the key ring. If Gaspard was going to be back soon, she needed to move fast.
    It took a few moments to find the right key. The door swung open, and she was almost flattened by the stench in the passage on the other side. Dear God, what was it like to go ten years without a bath?
    Trying to ignore the rank scent of unwashed bodies, she headed down the ill-lit passage. The right wall was plain stone; the left had four doors. Her nose confirmed that the occupied cells were at the far end. Which one held the man she sought?
    As she paused, she heard the sound of a male voice behind the last door. She blinked. He was singing! He had a fine baritone.
    She listened to the words, and smiled involuntarily when she realized that he was singing a French song so scurrilous that even she didn’t know all the obscenities. Probably not the priest, then.
    Now to find out if it was Wyndham. Hoping to God he hadn’t been driven mad, she found a likely key and attempted to open the cell on the far end. It took three attempts to find the right key. She opened the door and found herself face-to-face with a monster from a nightmare with filthy hair and beard falling over ragged garments.
    They both froze in shock, staring at each other. Was this Kirkland’s golden boy? The prisoner was broad shouldered and gaunt as a starving wolf. Hard to tell what color his hair was under the filth. Not really dark, but certainly not blond. His only distinctive feature was startlingly intense dark-ringed gray eyes.
    The moment of surprise ended—and he launched himself at her with murder in his crazed gray eyes.
     
     

Chapter 10
     
     
    In a world of endless monotony, even small changes were instantly noticeable. Grey was running in place when a key in the lock brought him instantly alert. The door hadn’t been opened since the time he’d come close to killing Durand. Ever since, Durand had spoken through the little window when he came to taunt Grey with stories of great French victories and