A Knight's Vengeance Read Online Free PDF Page B

again.

She must reach the bailey.

Her ankle twisted on an uneven stair. Her legs crumpled. She cried out, felt the weightlessness of air beneath her, and landed at the bottom of the stairs.

Elizabeth moaned and struggled to sit up. The stairwell filled with light, voices, and the rasp of drawn weapons. She pushed the mantle's hood from her eyes. Squinting in the brightness, she saw armed men walking in from the adjoining corridors. She did not recognize any of them.

Dread screamed through her. She scrambled to her feet.

A tall man strode toward her.

She gasped, for she would never forget his handsome face. Memories of his embrace and wicked words had lived on in her illicit daydreams since the day he saved her life. "Your

"Geoffrey de Lanceau." He smiled and took her hand. "At last, Lady Elizabeth, we have the pleasure of a proper introduction."

*      *      *

Geoffrey watched the emotions play across her pale face: shock, anger, and fear. Her hand, clinging to his, shook before she wrenched her fingers free. He let her go. He allowed her the momentary illusion of freedom, as a falconer would indulge his favorite bird before calling it back to his arm and slipping the hood over its bright eyes.

She held his stare, and he steeled himself against her beauty. He had remembered her eyes were blue, but now, offset by the dark mantle cloaking her head and body, they were the color of a summer sky.

Her cheeks pinkened, and her gaze narrowed to a frosty glare. All hint of vulnerability had gone. Again, he looked upon the composed woman he had rescued days ago.

"I regret I could not reveal my identity at the market," he murmured. "I could not risk you telling your sire."

Rage glittered in her eyes. "A wise choice, since I would have done so. Where is my father? What have you done with him?"

A smug grin tilted Geoffrey's mouth. "He is on his way to Tillenham, I believe."

"To capture you. You set the fires, did you not? He accepted your challenge." Her eyebrow arched. "Were you afraid to fight him, after all?"

Fury snapped inside Geoffrey like a cracking whip. She called him a coward. Years of anguish and resentment rammed against the wall of control around his heart and threatened to shatter it into thousands of pieces.

He balled his hands into fists. He would be foolish to lose his calm now, as she well knew. She had insulted his pride and prowess in front of his men, no doubt to provoke him into rash action. How clever of her, but futile. "Your father and I will fight soon, milady. When we do, I shall win."

Her expression shadowed with wariness. Geoffrey anticipated a biting reply that her sire would trample his bones into the ground. Yet, at that moment, crimson liquid dripped onto her shoulder. Blood?

He frowned. "Dominic, a torch."

Elizabeth jerked her head to the side, but Geoffrey was faster with the light. The curls at her brow covered a scrape that bled down her hairline and gleamed on the rise of her strong cheekbones. She would need a healer. He stifled a pang of remorse, and wondered if she had any other injuries.

The mercenary at her back snickered, and Geoffrey shot him a foul look. Viscon had rushed the lady down the stairwell, an unnecessary risk since she could not escape, and she was wounded. He would not receive all of the coin promised to him as payment.

Geoffrey handed the burning reed back to Dominic. "I did not intend for you to be hurt, milady."

She snorted, a sound of disgust.

"You may think me many things, but I am not a brute." Geoffrey reached for the dagger at his belt. She flinched, but to his surprise, did not retreat. He lifted his wool tunic, took his shirt's hem, and slashed a strip of linen. After sheathing the knife, he reached up to dab her temple.

"Do not touch me."

The venom in her voice drew his gaze to her mouth. Her lips were so near. Lush. How would she react if he tipped up her chin and kissed her, as he had teased that day at the market?

Was he mad?

He