Innocence Enslaved (29 page)

“Step down,” came the next command. “You are under arrest for the illegal transport of slaves out of Lancore. Fool,” laughed the tall knight as he moved his large destrier nearer. “Did you think to outsmart the earl, Mills? Now you and your pampered slut will pay the price.”

As he descended, the knights dismounted, hands on their swords, ready for the resistance they apparently expected.

“Get the slave from the back, but have a care,” the lead knight directed. “Lord Ervin intends to have her for himself and wants her unharmed.”

“Any harm will have to come from his whip, not his cock. I’ve heard he’s a bit lacking in that area these days,” one of the men joked as he dismounted. He strode to the wagon and flipped back the covering. “Come out of there, girl,” he barked as he pulled the frightened young woman from the cart.

“Uh… she’s comely, Rod,” one of the knights commented, “though not the same pleasure slave I saw Mills showing about town a few days ago.”

“What trickery is this?” the lead knight roared, rounding on the driver.

“None, sir knight. Don’t hurt her,” the man called, rushing to the back. “She is my daughter and an innocent.”

He reached out and ripped the hat from the driver’s head. Silver hair glistened in the predawn light. “What is this, old man? I know Corbet Mills. You are not he.”

“I am his servant, carrying saddles for William Rustin.” He reached into his jacket with a shaking hand. “The Rustin farm lies around the next bend and within the boundary lines. Here are the papers for the both of us.”

When he held them out, the huge knight snatched them out of his hand.

“Why have you brought the girl and why was she hiding?”

“She was sleeping, not hiding, and is along to help Rustin’s wife; she’s been ill and needs help with churning and her weekly baking. Master Corbet listed it thusly.” He nodded to the folded sheets of parchment.

The knight scowled. “If you have cost me my reward, you will pay, old man.” He unfolded the papers and cursed. “Bring a light.”

One of the men set a torch to blazing and brought it near. He stayed and gazed over the other man’s shoulder. After a moment, he said aloud, “It appears in order, Sir Rodrick.”

“So it does,” Rodrick acceded with a disgruntled growl as he crumpled up the paper and threw it back to the driver. “Where is your master this morning?”

“Still abed, I imagine. He isn’t an early riser since acquiring his new slave.”

A few of the men chuckled, as Rodrick’s scowl deepened.

“Be about your business then.”

“What about us, Rod? Back to Mills’ place?”

He glanced at the sun peeking over the horizon. “I’m for town. A hot meal to break my fast, a warm bed, and a quick fuck sound good after a long, boring night of guard duty, not necessarily in that order.” The others laughed. “Besides, the guards that are to relieve us were due at their post at daybreak. We’re off.”

The other men murmured their approval and mounted. Without another glance at the older man and the slave girl, they wheeled their horses and galloped down the road toward town.

The driver didn’t let a grin curve his lips until they were out of sight.

“As the master predicted, that worked like a charm. Come, Muriel. Let’s away. I’ll breathe easier when we’re beyond the border. We’ll drop off the saddles, in case the guards check on us later, then ride on to meet up with your mother and the other wagons in Andover as planned by noon.”

“What about Em and Corbet?” she asked as she scrambled up on the bench beside him.

“We’ll join them tomorrow as we near Ingvar, and ride as one on the final leg to Melbourne.”

“Is it really this easy, Charles?”

“With luck and plenty of Corbet’s gold to pave the way, so it would seem. Of course, his friends who are playing decoy at home will hopefully keep them satisfied. If we’re lucky, it will be days or longer, before they realize Corbet is gone and has taken Emilia with him.” He snapped the reins and started the team.

“We’ll be safely inside Melbourne by then,” Muriel announced in wonder. “We really are going to be free, at long last. Saints be praised.”

“Keep Master Corbet in your prayers too. I daresay Lord Ervin won’t let this rest so easily.”

In less than an hour, the wagon was well inside Andover making great time.

* * *

The sun was at its zenith as they crested a steep hill and looked down at the Andover valley laid out below them.

“On the other side of the dale lies Ingvar and the farm of my friend, Noah. There we’ll find a hot meal, a warm bed, and safety for the night.”

“And not a moment too soon,” she muttered as she shifted her weight in the torturous saddle. The heavy chained clanked and tugged at her tender throat, rubbing the skin raw each time she moved despite the soft cloth Corbet had tucked up and around it. Another sore spot, about two feet lower and to the rear, protested as she moved. She grimaced about the same time he glanced over and frowned.

“You’re sore. I told you to let me know when you needed a break.”

“I can make it,” she replied, discomfort clear in her strained voice.

“I don’t doubt that, but I won’t have you in pain while you do.” He reached out, grasping the reins of her mare and pulled her closer. She gave a shrill cry of surprise when he plucked her by the waist from her saddle and settled her across his lap, face down. Her mouth fell open in a muted cry of shock when he flipped her skirts over her head. She didn’t regain her senses until he tugged on the drawstring tie of the thickly padded drawers he had insisted she wear.

“Corbet,” came her muffled protest when she at last regained the use of her tongue. “You can’t bare me for all to see in the middle of the road.”

“I’ll do whatever I like if I think you are playing the martyr when you are supposed to tell me you’re hurting.” Cool air wafted over her tender behind as he pulled the undergarment down past her thighs. “Damn, Em. You’re red and swollen.”

He twisted in his saddle and she prepared herself for the awful-smelling cream, what followed was the icy fire of the cooling cream.

“No!” she hissed. “Use Alice’s ointment, instead. Please.”

“It doesn’t seem to be working. Hold still.” He slathered it liberally all over her cheeks and thighs, rubbing it in until the initial stingy fire began to dissipate and only cool, soothing relief remained.

“There now, how is that?” Corbet asked at length.

“Better. I’ll be able to ride easier now.”

With a light pat, he adjusted her drawers, pulled down her skirts, and then kicked his horse into motion. With both hands on his thigh, she pushed up and twisted to gape at him. “You can’t mean for me to ride this way, like a sack of flour over your lap.”

“Certainly I can,” he replied succinctly. “Relax and take a nap. When you wake we’ll be there.”

“I can’t sleep with my head upside down and my bottom in the air.”

“You don’t know that until you try.”

“This is humiliating. What if someone should come along?”

“I’ll tell them you have been naughty. None will question me on that. Now be the best, most obedient wife-to-be ever, and go to sleep.”

“I’m going to live to regret those words.”

He chuckled, his hand lightly caressing her thigh. “Wait until you repeat them to a priest, little one. They’ll be doubly more compelling when you tell a man of God your vow to love, honor, and obey me.”

When she gave him a scowl that was far from obedient, he grinned. Then he shifted in the saddle, using his hand on the back of her neck to guide her cheek onto his thigh. “There’s your pillow, little one. Now, sleep.”

She grunted in outrage, but didn’t say anything else, since it was actually rather comfortable, until he kicked his gelding into a slow trot, that is. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her riderless horse following along.

* * *

“Wake up, sweetling, we’re here.”

As she brushed off the dregs of sleep, instead of the topsy-turvy world she expected, things were right side up from her vantage point on Corbet’s lap. Blinking her sleep-drowsy eyes, she gazed up at him in question.

“How did I get up here?”

“You were exhausted from very little sleep last night. After you dozed off, I put you to rights and you’ve been napping in my arms ever since.”

“Why couldn’t I have started out this way?”

“How would I have applied the cooling cream?”

Sitting up, she shifted fully onto her backside in a test of sorts. She was surprised that the tenderness was nearly gone.

“Feeling better?” he asked as he guided the horses down a lane that led to a large house in the distance.

“Yes, thank you. That burning paste is a miracle cure, better than Alice’s wonder salve.”

“Next time I want to apply it, you’ll trust me and not make such a fuss.”

It was a statement, not a question, but the results were inarguable, so she nodded in agreement. The man had an annoying habit of being right, often.

“Where is here?” she asked as she glanced around.

“This is the home of the friend I told you about. He apprenticed with me for my uncle and we became close. He will keep our presence here quiet, even if knights come to question him. You can trust him with your life, Emilia, as I do. He has a pretty new wife that I think you will like as well.”

Her hand flew to her throat. “I’m embarrassed for them to see the collar.”

“Another reason we are stopping here. Noah raises horses and shoes them himself rather than using a town smithy. He should have the tools required to get that thing off.”

“Thank goodness.” Her fingers lifted to the insufferable band, tugging at it for the countless time. “Is he also a priest, to get all we have planned done in one stop?”

“No such luck, sweetling,” he replied, catching her fingers and bringing them to his lips before they could cause more irritation to the already abraded skin beneath the collar. He’d done this each time he’d caught her fiddling with it. “Although I’m sure he’ll know where to find one.”

She leaned into him, her arm tightening around his waist at the heady thought of becoming his bride in truth.

“Corbet,” a loud booming voice called. “Is that you, man?”

“It is, old friend,” Corbet called back. He kicked his horse into a gallop, shortening the distance to the main house. Once there, he dismounted easily with Emilia in his arms.

“How long has it been? Two, three years?”

Corbet chuckled. “It’s been six months. I stopped here late in the winter right before that blizzard hit. You always did have a poor memory.”

“Ah, yes, I remember now. We shared a full bottle of port before the fire while telling tales of our youth. Laughed harder than I ever did in my life, as I recall.”

He dropped the arm beneath Emilia’s legs and set her down on her feet.

“Who’s this now? You didn’t write that you’d taken a wife.”

“She’s not my wife yet, though we hope to remedy that as soon as possible.” He took her by the shoulders as he introduced his old friend. “This is my bride-to-be, Noah. Emilia, make your bow to Noah Grainger.”

He grinned and returned her pretty curtsy with a low courtly bow of his own. Despite the waning light, when she rose, she knew the instant he took notice of her collar. His smile faded promptly, and his affronted eyes shot to Corbet.

“Damn and blast, man, she’s a Lancore slave?”

“No longer. I’ve finally decided to leave that wretched place and Emilia, who was a free woman before she was taken by slavers, will be my bride. Will you help us, Noah? I need to get this damn collar off her neck. It is bothersome to her and it near kills me every time I look at it.”

He stared at Emilia for a long moment, before his eyes shifted to his old friend. “You know you can count on my help for anything, Corbet. Let’s get to the barn and get you two out of sight. I’m assuming because you’re traveling light, Ervin is in pursuit?”

“We hope not, although that’s a great possibility.”

“Word has spread about his new law. Once of Lancore…” Noah scowled. “The bastard is perverse. For that alone, I’ll shelter you. Follow me.”

An hour later, after her tale had been told and the saw had been carefully applied to her neck iron, it snapped in two. For the first time since she’d been captured, which seemed like an eternity ago, she felt free. In a flood of tears, she collapsed into Corbet’s arms, the emotions churning within her too much to contain.

Noah left Corbet to comfort her, welcoming them into his home warmly and without comment when she had composed herself a short while later. They had dinner served by Regina, Noah’s very petite and very round wife, who was expecting in the fall. She had a bright, energetic personality and made Emilia feel at ease. And, when she saw the red ring of irritated skin around her throat, she made no judgments, simply clucking with concern as she rushed to get a calming cream. As she applied it, Emilia met Corbet’s gaze over her shoulder.

“You must tell me how to make this, Regina; its scent is light and pleasant, and it is cool to the skin without the least bit of sting.”

His golden brown orbs twinkled in the firelight and his mouth quirked up on one side, not missing her point.

“I’ll copy the recipe for you. It’s fine for redness and irritation; however, the stinging stuff is best for reducing swelling and will prevent bruises.”

Corbet’s low laughter rolled across the room.

“Did I say something funny?” Puzzled, Regina looked at each of them in turn until she came to her husband.

“I’m sure it’s a private joke, wife,” Noah suggested with a knowing grin.

Regina’s face flooded with color. “Oh, well… Yes, the stingy stuff is good for that too.”

The men chuckled at the women’s crimson cheeks.

“Never mind them, Emilia,” Regina reassured her. “You’ll learn quickly that husbands find great entertainment in flustering their wives.”

“Yes, though we make up for it by providing entertainment in a variety of other ways.”

“With that,” Corbet said as he stood, “we should be abed.”

“Corbet!” Emilia cried in dismay as the others smiled indulgently.