His Stolen Bride BN Read Online Free PDF Page B

gathered her against his solid length
     once more. Averyl pushed against the steel of his chest, resisting his tight grasp
     as he crept to the wicket gate. He pushed her through it, then ducked to follow close
     behind, holding her about the waist all the while. Averyl nearly tripped on a pair
     of sentries lying against the curtain wall, each clutching a jug of ale in drunken,
     snoring slumber.
    She would have no help there. Panic rising, Averyl tried to wriggle from his grip—to
     no avail.
    Her captor clasped one strong hand around the back of her neck, then tore the lacy
     cap from her head with the other. As he coiled his fingers through her unruly curls,
     her gaze flew to his. Her breath turned shallow. By the moon’s light, Averyl could
     see the chiseled planes of the brute’s hard face, framed by inky hair. His piercing
     dark eyes loomed dangerously close.
    The wind wailed in the blackness. One of her pale curls lifted with the breeze to
     smooth across his cheek, skim his neck.
    “You cannot escape me,” he vowed. “You are only likely to injure yourself trying.”
    Her every muscle trembled from exertion, from fear, as she yanked the gag from her
     mouth. “Y-you plan to k-kill me?”
    Averyl had not thought her assailant could look any angrier. Not until she witnessed
     every muscle in his face tighten.
    “If you die, ’twill not be by my hand.”
    The words did not reassure her, and the man said nothing more before he placed the
     gag over her mouth again and rose. Grasping her wrists together tightly, he dragged
     her through a dark, dank tunnel for long minutes, then out into the storm’s fury again,
     to a pair of horses tethered in the distance. She stumbled behind him, body stiff,
     resisting every step of the way.
    Turning to one horse, the stranger checked the ties holding a satchel that looked
     to be hers. How had he obtained her belongings?
    Before she could begin to guess the answer, the knave doffed the monk’s robe and tossed
     it aside. Beneath, he stood taller, broader than she had first thought. He wore a
     simple black tunic and hose, perfect to become one with the night.
    The man mounted the dark gray animal, pulling her up in front of him so she, too,
     straddled the saddle. He clutched her to his chest, preventing any further opportunity
     to escape.
    Gazing back at the stone keep so close, yet so far away, her captor growled, “Buaidh no bas.”
    Conquer or die.
    Averyl gulped. Did he seek to conquer her ?
    The villain urged his mount forward. Though she fought to free her hands so she might
     jump and run, he held them too tight. She tried to scream past her gag and prayed
     someone would hear and follow, that Murdoch would rescue her. No one emerged from
     the castle as it stood stout against the shrieking wind.
    Dunollie Castle shrank in the distance behind them as he took their journey at a canter.
     The dervish charted their course from the main road, into a dense forest. Rain began
     to fall, punctuated by an occasional flash of wicked lightning as they rode farther
     and farther away from her father, her future—and her only hope of saving Abbotsford.
    The thought staggered her. Only his mercy stood between life and death. Terrified,
     she sent a promise upward to do whatever God wanted, if only He helped her escape.
    The man behind her must have felt her shudder, for he covered her with his cloak,
     as if she were cold. As he reached around her to fasten it, his fingers brushed her
     neck. His scalding touch on her chilled skin multiplied Averyl’s dread.
    Loathing and fury overcame her. Summoning her energy, Averyl squared her shoulders
     and stiffened her spine so she no longer leaned against the devil.
    Minutes slipped into hours that became a cold, wet misery as they galloped seemingly
     toward the bowels of hell. Finally, the sun crept above the horizon, its slow pace
     mirroring her weariness. She scratched at her heavy eyes. Her back ached as much as
     her