Linda Needham Read Online Free PDF Page A

Talia and turned her to face a man who’d been following at his elbow. “The wounded, Patrick—how many?”
    Patrick shook his head. “None, my lord, I’m glad to say. At least none beyond a few of Rufus’s men-at-arms. Nothing more serious than a scrape.”
    “That’s impossible!” Talia said, her heart still aching from the loss of two of her most well-loved and loyal men, their lives stolen in the battle between Rufus and Aymon, the guardian who’d held her wardship before him. After three weeks of siege followed by Rufus storming the walls, the blood had run freely in the bailey of Carrisford Castle.
    “Collin!” Talia pressed through the throng ofwarriors and found Collin standing on a bench. “Where are they, Collin—all the wounded?”
    Collin shrugged, looking confused. “I waited here for them, my lady, but there aren’t any. ’Cept for Tunny’s skinned-up elbows. He tripped over one of those loose piglets and slipped on the rainy cobbles. Cook’s workin’ up a poultice for him.”
    “Only Tunny? But that’s not possible. They’re probably hiding,” she whispered, hoping the man wouldn’t reveal where they were. “Gone to ground until the smoke settles.”
    But Collin only shrugged again. “’Pears to be no smoke either, my lady.”
    She’d seen that for herself: no smoke. No blood. No lasting terror.
    No more new-made orphans to comfort and care for.
    An unwelcome glimmer of hope flickered through her, tapped at her heart, a sensation she hadn’t felt in years.
    A feeling not to be trusted.
    Just as she couldn’t possibly trust de Monteneau.
    Not with her careful plans to protect her people already in the works. The last thing she needed was a nosy, well-organized guardian to slow her progress.
    “This way, madam.” The huge man ignored her protest, merely turned her and increased the pressure of his fingers around her arm and against her back.
    He was courtly and proud as he strode with her through the crowd, as though he was about to partner with her in a dance and waited only for the music to begin.
    “Have you no sense of timeliness, de Monteneau? You’ve obviously never taken a castle before. There are many things to—”
    “That’s enough, madam.” He laid his sultry warning against the ridge of her ear, just long enough to raise a deliciously, utterly uninvited shiver along her nape, lasting long enough to make her stumble and grab a breath.
    And follow him as he stalked toward the raised dais at the screen end of the hall, where green boughs and ribbons incongruously draped the arches and the sconces. Remnants of the wedding that the bullheaded beast had so miraculously interrupted.
    Some miracle! Just let him stand here on the dais and try to claim her in marriage as Rufus had done.
    She was about to remind him of just that, but he encircled her waist with his powerful hands and raised her up to stand on the bench, eye to eye with him.
    “Behave yourself, madam,” he said on the end of a snarl. He then turned to his men, and theyquieted as though on cue, waiting for him to speak.
    “Well done, men.” He’d barely finished this easy praise before another cheer filled the barreled ceiling, rattling the wattle between the timbered posts.
    “To Lord Alex!” Hoots and hoorays and fists punched into the candle-smoked air.
    De Monteneau raised his hand, and the cheering faded. “You’ve exceeded my hopes, as always.”
    Their new cheers exceeded the previous thunder. Oh, what a load of self-righteous pig wallow .
    “I am here, gentlemen, at the behest of His Royal Majesty, King Stephen, the true and just ruler of Britain.”
    Yes, yes, more cheering, more table pounding approval from his rabble. More time wasting.
    “In the king’s name, and with his express permission, I do hereby claim Carrisford Castle, and with it, the royal wardship of Lady Talia.”
    Lord, curse them all, kings and guardians and men who encourage their crimes.
    De Monteneau gave a flick of