The Crimson Lady Read Online Free PDF Page A

again from deep in his chest, harsh and wracking. She narrowed her eyes, peering at what shecould see of his face beneath his hood. He looked flushed. Could he have taken ill?
    It was possible—and if he had, then perhaps she’d be finding herself free of him sooner than she’d thought .
    The renegade idea wound through her mind, and her tattered conscience struggled to suppress the hope that filled her. If he fell ill, she might be able to sneak away without worry, leaving him to whatever the fates intended. She could flee back to her sewing shop and pack up, moving to a new city much farther to the north, perhaps, where she could take on another name and begin again—
    “We need to stop soon for food and to dry out. An inn that will do sits not far from here.”
    The clarity of his words yanked her from her baleful reverie, and she looked over at him again, finding herself caught, suddenly, in the calm, cool scope of his gaze. It was directed right at her, and though his face still looked flushed, there was nothing cloudy about his eyes. They were blue and piercing, seeming to see inside her secret soul to the dark thoughts that had been lurking there. To her surprise, she felt her own cheeks heat under his perusal.
    “I am not hungry.”
    Her peevish answer came from somewhere unbidden. It was a lie, of course; her stomach, too, had begun growling not long after they’d taken to the road again from their brief respite.
    “That matters not. You must eat, as must I.” He turned his face forward again, relieving her of that penetrating gaze of his. “We will stop.”
    An answering burst of resentment swept through her.How dare he order her about as if she were his chattel? Panic churned below the surface with that thought, bringing back with it too many painful memories. Remembered years of powerlessness and despair; she pushed the old terror down, determined not to give breath and life to it again. Not now. Not ever, if she could help it.
    To mask her sudden weakening, she let her stare bore into him once more, snapping, “Just how do you intend to purchase victuals and time before a drying fire? Have you thought of that—thought of anything beyond your addle-minded scheme to track me down and force me to your bidding?”
    “Aye,” he replied calmly. “We will use your funds to buy some meat and drink, just as we did when we acquired the horses. I will replace what you spend—and then some—once I’ve managed to procure my own supply of coin.”
    “And if I refuse to allow you further use of my money?” she countered, unable to contain the spite in her tone.
    He turned his head to look at her again, the motion weary, though his expression glowed intense. “We have already discussed this, woman. Do not test me further. If you will not cooperate, then so be it; I will bind you and drag you back to Hampshire to face prosecution for your past crimes. Then I will needs find another to assist me—one who is certain to be less skilled and far less knowledgeable in the arts of thieving and whoring, the two pursuits most necessary for me to understand if I am to free Elizabeth. It is not what I would choose, but it is what will happen if you continue this obstinacy.”
    Cheeks still burning, Fiona stifled a gasp and snappedher gaze forward again, struck dumb as the sick sensation she’d almost forgotten bloomed in her belly. Anger had helped to mask it before this, but now it reared up, dark and relentless. It was accompanied by that old voice inside of her, the one filled with self-loathing, whispering of her sinfulness, her worthlessness. Braedan de Cantor had just named it outright, and there was no more escaping it; he had sought her out above all others because she was a notorious whore and thief, the most tainted woman he could find—a paragon of wicked skill that surpassed every boundary.
    Aye, she was that; she couldn’t deny it. She’d stolen from many as part of a group of bandits well-known for