The Laird's Captive Wife by Joanna Fulford Read Free Book Online Page B

to get her voice under control. ‘You could leave me at Hexham.’
    ‘I could, but I won’t.’
    ‘Why not?’
    ‘It doesn’t accord with my plans.’
    Incredulous she glared at him but the gaze that met hers was unwavering and utterly disconcerting. Indignation swelled like a tide.
    ‘Why should I co-operate with you?’
    ‘Because you won’t like the consequences if you don’t.’
    The threat was thinly veiled despite the mild tone with which it was delivered and, for a moment, it hung there between them. Given his previous experience of her, he was half expecting an outburst of rage. It never materialised, though her chin lifted at a defiant angle. In spite of himself he was amused and oddly touched. With somewhat grudging admiration he acknowledged that the lass had spirit as well as looks.
    ‘Why are you doing this?’ she demanded. ‘My future can be of no interest or importance to you.’
    ‘It isn’t.’
    ‘Then the only reason for holding me is concerned with profit.’
    ‘Good enough reason, in my view.’
    Ashlynn strove against rising panic. ‘Leave me at Hexham.’
    ‘I have just said I will not. The matter is closed.’
    ‘I cannot…I will not go with you further.’
    The dark gaze met and held hers but now there was no discernible trace of humour in it.
    ‘You can, my lass, and you will.’

Chapter Three
    T he question of how to free herself from her captor exercised Ashlynn strongly now. What she would do after effecting an escape was uncertain; the important thing was to get away and find somewhere to hide. Somewhere he wouldn’t think of looking. When he failed to find her he would perhaps give up for all his efforts seemed to be directed towards reaching Scotland. What was his business in Jedburgh? Who was he meeting there? ‘After that I’ll make my decision.’ Since she had no close kin who might ransom her, there was only one other way for her captor to profit. The Scots frequently seized prisoners on their raids across the border. Slaves were a valuable commodity. She shivered. Was this what the brute intended? The more she thought about it, the more likely it seemed. That being so, the more necessary it was to prevent it.
    The first stars had appeared before they reached the outskirts of Hexham and already frost glittered in the blue twilight. The frozen breath of men and horses hung in the still air as the group drew rein and dismounted before an imposing walled manor. Ashlynn looked around her, taking in the house and the courtyard with its outbuildings and churned snow, while the men led the horses off towards a big barn. Then Iain took hold of her arm and guided her towards the house, a large rambling affair of timber and stone. A servant hastened to open the door and the laird strode into a large hall, drawing his captive with him. It was dimly lit and passages led off it. She was conducted down one of these and thence to a door off to the right which the servant opened. It gave on to a small bedchamber. The man set down the candle on the table and then withdrew.
    Ashlynn cast a furtive glance around. The chamber was clean but sparsely furnished. There was a window, now shuttered fast, and a fire burning in the hearth. By its light she took in table and chair, a stand with a basin and ewer on it and, most prominently, a bed on the far side by the wall. With calmness she was far from feeling she turned to face Iain. The confines of the room served only to emphasise that powerful presence, and he was watching her now with an unnervingly penetrating gaze. Her chin tilted a little and, forcing herself to return that steady regard, she waited.
    ‘You will sleep here this night,’ he said then. ‘I will have food sent to you shortly.’
    ‘Whose house is this?’
    ‘Does it matter?’
    The tone brought a tinge of colour to her cheeks. ‘No.’
    ‘There are things it is better not to know.’ He paused. ‘You should try and get some rest. We have another long ride ahead