Beloved Abductor (2 page)

Felicia glanced up swiftly, wanting to say how sorry she was and that she wished that time could be reversed. But the words stuck in her throat.

‘There is no mistake,’ he said swiftly, misinterpreting her expression. ‘I was there when your cousin performed that evil deed. Three of his men held me and then knocked me senseless before they set fire to my mother’s house.’ Only by the set of his jaw was she made aware of the rigid control he had over himself. ‘The blow almost killed me. I presume the fire was to make certain I was dead. Thank God they did not stay to see it burn to its end but left to wreak mischief and destruction elsewhere. I woke to smoke and flames, but managed to get out of the house before it collapsed. Although God in his mercy saved my life, my mother, whom I dragged out with me, died in my arms two days later. All that she taught me proved useless when I tried to save her.’ He choked on the words. ‘I buried her in the forest where we took shelter. Now I want revenge!’

His words caused a chill of apprehension to tauten Felicia’s stomach. ‘But I was not to blame for what he did!’ she cried.

‘My mother did not deserve what happened to her,’ he roared, thrusting his face close to hers. ‘She suffered and died because of your cousin’s savagery and greed! I will see him suffer. Obviously you are that which he most values and now you are mine!’ His expression was calculating.

Felicia shrank away from him, aware of how vulnerable she was there on the floor. Trembling, her hands climbed the wall behind her, expecting him to pounce any moment. But he made no move to seize her, smiling sardonically. Her fingers suddenly reached an obstruction, and raced over a pot that hung on the wall. She lowered her eyes, swiftly praying that hope had not shown in her face. She had acted the part of a timid and submissive maiden for months now. Twice she had resisted her cousin’s advances. Almost he had lost his temper with her but for some reason he had held back. But Felicia knew just how unstable and violent was Philip’s nature and she had no desire to meet the same fate as Matilda, so had pretended to be that which she was not. Surely she could play the same game now?

Even though she had expected her captor to move before now, Felicia jumped when he reached out and grabbed her about the waist. She drooped, having no intention of provoking a swifter, perhaps more violent reaction in an unequal struggle.

‘They say revenge is sweet,’ muttered Edmund, his lips nuzzling her ear. ‘What better way of taking it than by possessing that which your enemy holds most dear?’

‘You are mistaken,’ she gasped. For a moment she wondered if she was dreaming what was happening. Some remnant of the drug, perhaps, made her feel light-headed still. Then his mouth came down over hers—hard and slightly moist. A shiver passed through her. This was reality. Thanks to his actions she had escaped her cousin, but the price she was expected to pay for such freedom was too high. Anger and apprehension curled in her stomach. He might have just cause for wanting revenge, but she was no common whore to be treated so, but it was only her wits that would gain her freedom now.

Her lips trembled before yielding to his, causing him to lift his head and gaze at her. Her eyes were shut, dark thick lashes washing the upper curve of her flushed cheeks. Despite what he had heard of her morals, he had expected her to struggle in his arms. Experimentally he kissed her again. She smelt deliciously of lavender, and her body was soft and warm. His hands moved upward in a slow caress and his fingers sought the fastenings of her gown.

She jumped violently as he undid the first one, and he stopped. Not so quiescent, after all. An unbidden thought surfaced in his mind. What if the rumours were not true? Suddenly he imagined he could hear his mother’s screams of protest, and his breathing quickened, his fingers curling against Felicia’s breasts.

She was aware of his distraction and was at a loss what to do. Was this the moment when he would move her away from the wall to the floor? She would have no defence then, so she acted in the only way she could think of to hold his attention; deliberately she pressed her body against his. She shivered as he let out a scornful laugh, hating him in that moment for thinking she was so acquiescent, but she responded to his kiss, not resisting as he tugged several more of the fastenings undone. As he began to nuzzle her throat, she opened her eyes, shaken. The unwelcome thought that here was the man who could have ... the unspoken sentence remained unfinished and was swiftly quashed. He wanted to use her for his own ends as surely as Philip did, and she would be better rid of both of them. She swiftly lifted the pot from the wall, and before Edmund could realise what she was about, brought it down on the side of his head.

When he let out a groan and slowly crumpled to the floor, Felicia was completely taken aback, not expecting him to collapse so instantaneously. She hesitated, then realising that now was not the time for second thoughts, she dragged her skirts free from his outstretched arms and made for the door.

It opened quickly to her fumbling touch, and she tossed a thankful prayer heavenwards as she came out into a sunlight that winked and flickered through the golden-green foliage of massive trees. She sent a glance round at the oaks and hornbeams that seemed to march on and on, with no end in sight. Which way? She must go swiftly before he regained his senses. Not towards the castle: any place, rather than back to her cousin. There was no sound of huntsman or forester to guide her, no sign of peasants coming to gather kindling for their cooking-fires. Even the birds did not sing here. Where was she? How deep in this forest?

Her eyes fixed on some shadows beneath the trees. Because of the sun’s brightness she had not seen the animals at first, but now she raced to where they cropped the grass. Her legs were shaky, and her heart was jerking in her breast. There were two horses: one, a chestnut, a lovely beast; the other dun coloured. She spoke soft words as she approached them. The chestnut backed away, snorting, and without hesitation she turned to the other. Her breath was jagged as she heard the sound of scraping feet coming from the cottage, and with a determined hand she grasped the horse’s mane and dragged herself up onto its back.

Edmund caught but a brief glimpse of a shapely white leg as he stumbled out of the hut, and then she was gone into the cover of the trees. He wiped the back of his hands across his cheek, where blood trickled, A bitter smile twisted his mouth. She had tricked him properly! He whistled, and the chestnut lifted its head and came trotting to him. His head was still muzzy from Felicia’s blow, which had landed on the still sore wound inflicted by Philip’s men. Swinging himself into the saddle, he urged his horse across the clearing.

Felicia found it difficult at first to prod her mount into anything more than a steady trot, however hard she dug in her heels. God only knew where the horse would take her. She glanced about her, fearfully, knowing herself completely lost. Here and there the summer sunshine reached down, lighting bluebells, now fading from their blue intensity. As a low-hanging branch loomed in front of her, she ducked, swaying slightly, fastening up her gown. Her cheeks burned as she remembered how he had touched her.

Hoof beats sounded behind, and she urged the horse on. The man was not going to take her against her will without a mighty effort. Her days of being meek and mild were over! The ground began to flash past more swiftly, as, heedless of the danger, she whacked the horse on its flank. Branches caught at her veil and greening brambles snatched and rasped her skirts. The trees seemed to go on endlessly, then she heard the clear piping of a blackbird near at hand. Then more birdsong, and the snuffling of swine as they delved for food. The trees began to thin out. Felicia’s heart lifted. She was safe. Safe from her abductor, and from her cousin Philip.

Blinking in the bright sunshine, she saw ahead the waste and pasture where cows grazed under the watch of a cowherd. A village huddled not far from a river. Approaching across the waste were a handful of men and beyond them, the towering grey-white walls of a castle. Frantically she tried to wheel about as the men in red livery with a black saker hawk clearly displayed on their surcotes fanned out so as to cut her off. A sob rose in her throat when a mailed fist snatched at her horse’s mane. Before she could utter a word of protest, she was surrounded by her cousin’s men. Her mount had returned to its home village.

Edmund brought his horse, snorting and blowing, to a hasty standstill amid the trees. He saw Felicia being surrounded, and knew in that moment that the wiser course would have been to lose himself in the forest. She would tell them what had happened to her at his hands, and they would come searching. He was surprised when the whole group of men surrounded her and took her back towards the castle. He ran a thoughtful hand across his stubbly chin. Once more the lady had surprised him. He dismounted and took some salve from his saddlebag to deal with the cut on his head. His gaze remained on the men and the girl heading towards the castle. Come nightfall, he planned to enter the castle grounds again.

The spidery shapes of watchmen took form as Felicia and her escort approached the castle walls. Cold despair, heavy as iron, weighed on her spirits. Yet she held her head high, despite knowing that she was a prisoner once more. She clattered ahead of them over the drawbridge and on beneath the stone archway of the gatehouse, ignoring the men’s presence. Unaided, she dismounted, giving the horse into the hands of a young groom, who stood gaping at her.

‘Be kind to him,’ she called before moving in the direction of her bedchamber. Suddenly she realised that the courtyard was busier than it should be at that hour in the morning. What had happened in her absence? Men were dragging lances and shields from the store beneath her chamber. The air was filled with shouts and the rumble of wheels as sacks of flour and haunches of meat were loaded into carts. As she ran a hand jerkily down one of her braids, her spirits rose slightly. It seemed that her cousin was on the move again. She forced a path between the bustling men towards the stairway that led to her chamber, intending to change her clothing before she confronted Philip. Reaching the foot of the steps, she bunched her skirts in one hand and ran up, wondering how much grace she would be allowed before he demanded her presence in the hall. By the time she had pushed open the heavy wooden door, her breath was coming in gasps. She stepped over the threshold, and came to a halt.

‘Well met, coz!’ The figure in the blue surcote dropped the scroll he had been reading on to the chest at the foot of the bed.

Felicia put out a hand to the door jamb to steady herself. It was quiet, after the noise in the courtyard and she stood there for several moments, her eyes not leaving Philip’s face. He stretched out a hand and plucked a leaf from her veil. ‘Where have you been? Not romping in the hay, I hope?’

‘You jest,’ she said lightly, forcing down her fear. ‘Haymaking is not until the end of June—as you would know if you spent more time on your own manor!’ She backed away, intending to leave the chamber, but he grabbed her sleeve and jerked her to a halt.

‘Do not play games with me! Your bed has not been slept in, nor were you to be found anywhere in this castle or its grounds this morning.’

His nails bit into her skin through the fabric of her sleeve. She was uncertain whether the truth would perhaps serve her best. Fleetingly she recalled what her abductor had said about her cousin, and how he had looked when he had spoken of his mother’s rape and death. Then, without fully understanding why she did so, she lied.

‘I have been somewhat anxious about my complexion lately,’ she murmured. ‘I rose early, wanting to wash my face in the dew.’ Her voice faltered as his eyes gleamed wrathfully. She noticed that his jowls were just beginning to thicken and there were pouches beneath his eyes. How had she ever considered him handsome? Or ever believed herself in love with him? The memory of a lean face and compelling grey eyes came to mind even as Philip’s fingers tightened on her arm.

‘You lie! You have a lover, haven’t you?’ Felicia caught her breath as his fingers pinched her flesh cruelly. ‘I left you too long alone after Matilda’s death, answering Montfort’s bidding.’

‘I do not!’ she shouted. ‘You are hurting me, Philip!’ She stamped on his foot. ‘I am not a serf to be treated so,’ she added in a furious undertone, her control snapping.

‘Why, you bitch!’ His mouth twisted unpleasantly, and he hit her across the face.

Felicia fell back against the chest, stunned. The taste of blood was in her mouth and her ears were singing. Never had he hit her so hard before. Squeezed and pressed as though he were playing some game with her, but never this. She now realised that she was in real danger.

‘I shall treat you in any way I wish,’ he declared, leaning over her, his hands clamping on her shoulders. ‘Your father and brother can no longer protect you. Always I regretted Mark being born, and I was glad when your mother and her baby died.’ He laughed. ‘Did you know, dear coz, I grew up with Meriet’s praises sung in my ears? My father loved the place. Now it is yours, and I would deal with you both the way I wish.’ His hand slid to her throat, and tightened. ‘I would wed you, dear coz.’ His voice was almost gentle.

‘That is impossible,’ gasped Felicia. ‘For cousins to marry is against the teaching of the church.’

‘So it is.’ Philip frowned slightly. ‘But there are always those who are willing to go against such laws—for money or advancement.’

‘No!’ she cried, attempting to drag herself free.

‘No?’ His grip tightened. ‘You were willing to belong to me once, sweet coz, yet you showed no sign then of the woman you are now. Now tell me where is this lover of yours?’