Knight's Captive Read Online Free PDF Page B

glow soothed her and
the warmth of his blankets began to loosen her limbs. She shifted back to rest
her head against the headboard and eyed the red canopy above. This room was
much bigger than the one she’d been in but if it was dark, she knew she’d be
swallowed up by panic.
    Antonia let her gaze trace the swirling golden
flowers painted on the wall. How long would she be here? What would he do with
her? She didn’t think anyone would pay a ransom for her. Only her father—and he
was a captive too. However, the king would want her father and his men back so
she would be sent back with them she assumed.
    Henry ducked into the room, holding a platter of
bread and what looked to be dried figs. She gulped. He seemed to take up all
the air in the chamber. The walls closed in on her and not in the way they
usually did. Now the grey haze of panic has vanished, she was able to study him
properly. His loose shirt hung open a little at the neck and he wore chausses.
He must have taken the time to slip them on. Thank the Lord. How would she have
felt confronted by his bare thighs?
    He placed the platter next to the wine jug,
picked up a few figs and chunks of cheese and passed them over. Her fingertips
brushed his, sending a tremor through her. And not one of
horror. She swallowed hard and tried to murmur a gracias but no
sound came.
    Standing over her, he watched— no ,
waited—for her to eat. She cautiously plucked up a fig and nibbled on the end
of it. The tangy sweetness eased the dryness in her throat and a slight pang of
hunger struck her. He nodded with satisfaction as she popped the whole thing
into her mouth.
    “M-must you stand over me so?”
    He blinked at her, unfolded his arms and
scowled. He likely had no idea of the intimidating sight he made. Or mayhap he
did. Mayhap he intended to ensure she was intimidated so she did not try to
escape. At present, escape was far from her mind. She needed him to take her to
her father and she would not be going anywhere at night—not when darkness was
all around her.
    “Forgive me,” he muttered, easing his large frame
into an ornate wooden chair not far from the foot of the bed.
    It struck her that he barely fit in it. A giddy
bubble of a laugh threatened to escape her when she imagined him trying to
stand and coming away with the chair still stuck to him. Santa Maria ,
she must be addled from shock if she could laugh while she was in this
precarious position.
    He remained silent while she finished off the
food. She tried to keep her attention on the pewter plate in her hand rather
than him, but she kept stealing glances at the brooding hulk in the corner. He
put a finger to his lips and observed her. It made her chest constrict every
time she met his gaze and she had to flick her own away. The man was so large
and... intimidating . She should be intimidated. She
was, was she not? Why then, did her gaze keep slipping to him?
    Popping another chunk of cheese in her mouth,
she eyed the room. Antonia looked to the ceiling to see painted roses there
too. Then she let her gaze linger on the intricate carved wood of the bed. So dark
in colour, it was almost black yet this did not feel like a coffin. Was it
because she knew it was his bed? It seemed too small to hold him.
Everything seemed too small for him. This room, even what she assumed had to be
a grand house. She was no stranger to large men—her husband had been one of
them—but not like this.
    “Do you...” He shifted in the chair and she
winced as it creaked. “Do you feel better now?”
    She nodded and skimmed a finger over the empty
plate. What to do now? Would he send her back to the room? Would he think her
mad for her outburst? She gripped the metal until her knuckles hurt.
    “Do not be afeared, Antonia. I vowed to your
father you would not be harmed.”
    “And you always keep your word?”
    “I do.”
    Henry said this so solemnly she had no choice
but to believe him. Mayhap he meant her no harm, but what of