Page 43 of Taken By the Broken Duke
Pulling her feet in and wrapping her arms about her knees, she tried to keep as much of her body as she could in the makeshift shelter. For a long while, she stared glumly out at the lonely woods. The castle was invisible, hidden by the trees. After a while, she decided to see how much Aunt Margaret had given her in the purse, just to pass the time. As she began to count through the coins, a voice sounded from behind her.
“What a lot of pretty silver.”
She screamed.
It was a man’s voice and was followed by two heavy, mud-encrusted boots thudding to the ground beside her. The man had clearly been atop the fallen tree, watching her. Now, he crouched. In one hand, he held a long-bladed knife. He wore a leather jerkin and his thinning hair was plastered to his head by the rain. He was leering at Juliet with a lop-sided grin. In his other hand, he held a dark bottle which he raised to his lips and took a long draught from.
“What have we got here then,” he growled. “Little Miss Lady from the castle, eh? Lost are yer?”
“Just caught out by the rain,” Juliet replied as firmly as she could, “while walking in the woods. Foolish of me to get caught out like this.”
“Aye, foolish,” the man agreed. “You always take silver with you when you go out for a walk?”
His eyes went to the purse, then roamed over Juliet’s body. She could not tell which brought the greater gleam to his eyes.
“That is my business. Who are you and what do you want on this land? This is the Duke’s land.”
A spasm of anger contorted the man’s features. “Who I am, little Miss, is none of your concern. And this might be his high andmighty Duke’s land but it’s a free country. I’ll come onto this land if I want. And I’ll do whatever I choose once I’m here.”
With that, he stabbed the knife forward so that its blade thunked into the bough above Juliet’s head. She screamed involuntarily, not wanting to show this man fear but unable to contain it. He grinned, the evil smile of a predator whose prey was cornered.
“You the Duke’s lady, are yer?” he drawled.
“I am a house guest, yes. And the Duke will be very angry at your behavior,” Juliet tried.
“I bet he will. Have to catch me first though, won’t he? Now, how about you give me that purse to begin with.”
He reached for the purse, but Juliet lashed out with her foot, catching him on the wrist. The man hissed and fell back, clutching at his injured appendage. But he was soon back on his feet. Heaving the knife free of its temporary wooden sheath, he pointed it at her, grinning to show lopsided, yellowed teeth.
“Now then. Any more of that and you’ll regret it, Miss. Just hand over the purse.”
Juliet hefted it, and then hurled it at his face. It struck him on the temple, coins spilling out. He cried out louder this time, clutching at his head and cursing loudly.
Juliet knew that it was now or never.
She pushed herself out from under the bough and shoved at the man hard to move him out of the way. But he grabbed for her wrists as she did. Juliet found herself dragged off her feet and on top of the man who promptly rolled to gain the upper hand over her. She screamed again, kicking, and thrashing as he used his greater strength and weight to pin her wrists to the ground.
“Now I’ve got your money. And I’ve got you. A pretty little bird in the hand for old Tom, eh?”
Juliet opened her mouth and a wild, feral scream of helpless terror came out. Her wrists were pinned to the ground beside her head and this loathsome creature was straddling her. Her body felt exposed before him and her inability to help herself was both terrifying and utterly humiliating. She screamed from frustration and fear. From loathing and terror.
Then something came out of the bushes to slam into her attacker.
One moment, he was leering down at her, face lowering to hers until mere inches separated their mouths. Then he was gone.
Juliet looked up, seeing two figures rolling into the undergrowth. Tom cursed and swore. The other did not.
It was Horatio.
Juliet saw his face, framed by long hair disheveled during the struggle. His teeth were bared and his eyes implacable.Suddenly, Juliet found herself afraid for the man who had attacked her. Afraid for this creature calling himselfTom. Because she could see animal hate in Horatio’s eyes. Could see death.
Horatio raised a fist and brought it crashing down into Tom’s face. Then again. Again. He got to his feet, seizing Tom by the collar of his dirty shirt beneath the leather jerkin. The other man's legs were limp but Horatio’s strength was such that he dragged him onto his toes. Holding him upright with one clenched fist, Horatio pulled back the other. Juliet cried out as he swung and Tom’s head lashed to the side, blood flying from his mouth.
Then Horatio cast him aside into the undergrowth before turning, panting, to look at Juliet.
“Where did you think you were going?” he demanded.
“How did you find me?” she stammered.
