Page 29 of Beguiled
“How will you make me pay, my lady?” His lips quirked with the beginning of a smile.
The air around me felt suddenly lighter, headier. And for the first time in a long time—perhaps since my father died—something akin to happiness stole into the dark and lonely corridors of my heart.
“I shall think of something terrible.”
“How terrible?”
I searched my mind for a retort but could find nothing fitting. “Terribly terrible.”
One of his brows curved, and his smile broke free. The sight of it took my breath away. His smiles were rare, but they always transformed his face, taking away the cold sternness and replacing it with warm acceptance. It was the kind of expression that told me a future with this man would be graced with more smiles, laughter, and tenderness.
“I shall look forward to suchterribly terribleconsequences.” His voice was light and teasing.
A lock of his fair hair had fallen across his forehead, and I reached up and smoothed it back, taking my time to tuck it into place.
As my fingers lingered in his hair, his breathing stilled and his smile faded.
Was he repulsed by my touch? I let my fingers fall away, self-conscious at my forwardness. But before I could get far, he snatched my hand and brought it to his lips. A soft, feathery warmth brushed my knuckles, and I sucked in a breath at the contact.
I didn’t dare move for fear the moment might end before I was ready for it to.
Beneath me, his body remained motionless, and his eyes darkened to the color of the sky at twilight.
My heart began a strange thrumming of anticipation.
Ever so gently, he turned my hand over and pressed it against his lips, this time kissing the tender spot at the center of my palm.
His gaze held mine, unrelenting but tender, rendering me helpless and filling me with feelings for him I couldn’t explain.
He lifted my hand away and curled my fingers closed, as if to keep his kiss there. At that instant, shouts from across the gorge jolted us. We scrambled to our knees and peered out, the intimacy dissipating under the harsh reality of where we were and the life we were leading.
At another shout, this one from the northern trail that wound up the island back to our camp, I spotted Tommy’s bearlike frame. He limped forward, blood running down his face and disappearing into the thick hairy growth on his chin and neck. His eyes were wild and desperate, and he shouted again, this time more audibly. “The camp’s been attacked!”
All around the gorge, our people tentatively stepped out of their hiding places, their faces confused. Irontooth emerged from his secluded spot closest to the river, Fowler bound and gagged beside him, along with several other of our fiercest warriors.
Mikkel’s fingers tightened against both his weapons, as if he expected Blade’s men to swoop out of the woods now that we’d revealed our positions.
“The camp!” Tommy fell to his knees, revealing a knife blade stuck deep into the flesh of his back.
I gasped and spun, ready to retrace my path along the cliff so I could race to his aid. Before I could take a step, Mikkel gripped my arm and stopped me. “Wait.” He narrowed his eyes and scanned the landscape.
Irontooth had left Tommy back at our camp as he usually did to act as a sentinel and protect our position and few possessions. Had Blade lured us away from our camp on the pretense of the prisoner exchange only to attack while we were gone? That would explain why our rival and his men hadn’t arrived yet at our prearranged meeting spot.
Tommy struggled to pick himself up. With his extraordinary strength, he somehow managed to stand and push farther toward the gorge. At the same time, several others from our group reached him and grabbed his arms, lending their support.
“What happened?” Irontooth shouted up at him, shielding his eyes with his hand against the bright summer sun. “Did Blade attack?”
Tommy shook his head, his expression radiating with both pain and devastation. “The Inquisitor, and his men! They took the women as prisoners and left me for dead.”
The Inquisitor?
“Felicity?” Irontooth asked.
“Aye, she’s gone.” Tommy’s voice cracked.
Irontooth dropped his hand from his eyes to his belt where he unsheathed his knife. With a roar that echoed all through the narrow valley, he bolted forward, racing up the trail that led back to camp.
The Inquisitor had Felicity and the two other women? My heart thundered with both pity and fear. How had this happened? Had Blade informed the Inquisitor we’d be away from camp, giving him the perfect opportunity to strike?
