Ravished

RAVISHED

By

Julia Keaton

© copyright Julia Keaton

Cover art by Eliza Black, ©
copyright July 2012

www.juliakeaton.com

Dedication:

To the loves in my life, Bryan, Bryce, and Bronte.  I
would be nothing without them, and they give me hope for a brighter tomorrow
every day.  I love you all.

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

While I try to use
terminology in a way that is readily understood, some terms when using modern
sensibilities and word usage to identify them could make the Tudor slang and
terminology more difficult to understand.  Therefore, I’ve included a glossary
of terms at the end of this book for clearer definition.

Julia Keaton

CHAPTER ONE

The middle of nowhere
(England/Scotland border) 1540

          “Unhand me you
goatish, fly-bitten canker-blossom!”

          The outlandish
words echoed over the countryside like the voice of god.  Startled birds
scrambled in flight with a rush of wings to escape it.  The forest fell eerily
silent at their passing, still as a tomb.

          The echo stunned
Alexandra from her self-absorption, her dilemma briefly forgotten.  Quiet roared
in her ears.  Frigid wind whipped her cape out like a sail, fallen leaves
blowing like a vortex around her horse’s legs.  She froze, listening for the
broach of peace again, hope burgeoning in her chest.  She’d thought herself
utterly, completely alone, never to see another soul for all eternity.

          Oaks, birches, and
other trees she had no name for boxed her in, leaves burnished in flame and
gold.  If she hadn’t been in such trouble, she would have thought it quite
beautiful.  The ground was relatively smooth underneath the tangling brush that
obscured her passage--and which way she’d come.  The forest was as thick and
impenetrable as the king’s army.  She knew this--had been roaming the land for
an eternity, looking for a way out. If she hadn’t fallen asleep and her horse
hadn’t had a mind of his own--

           A fearful cry
filtered through the trees.  She jumped in the saddle like she’d been goosed. 
Closer this time, its direction more distinct as she moved through the woods. 
From
the West?
She wondered.  Shielding her eyes from the setting sun, she
strained her senses in her search.  The voice had to be coming from there.  She
thanked god for blessing the stranger with powerful lungs.

          Alex nudged her
horse, Firedancer, forward, her decision made.  Low limbs snapped like the
crack of a whip with their passing, twigs and dried leaves crunching
underfoot.  The noise, deafening to her ears, made Alex cringe and grit her
teeth in anxiety.  Though she had no cause for quiet other than safety’s sake,
she felt until she had assessed the situation that caution was best.

          Certes—she wanted
no part of what was ahead.

          They had gone only
a short distance when the trees began to thin.  Broken stumps rotting in the
ground were evidence of man’s progress.  Alex could just make out the clearing
of the road.  She had been so close all this time.

As
she neared, the human presence became more discernible.  Movement caught her
attention, a flurry of color, but she dared not reveal herself.

          A woman shrieked
suddenly like a cat thrown in water.  Alex grimaced at the sound.

“Oy! 
Giver over, luv!” a man yelled.

          Ah, so it was a
lover’s quarrel.  She shook her head in disgust.  How a man could say such to a
screaming shrew was beyond Alex’s grasp.  And to think, she would soon
subjugate herself to such games....  A heavy sigh escaped her.  If only
Grandfather hadn’t left her, she wouldn’t be in this predicament now.  She
cleared her head of her woe, determined to face the here and now.

          ‘Twould be uncomfortable
interrupting their tryst, but she need be on her way.  Alex nudged Firedancer
onward.

          “I say again,
release my purse, brigand!”

          Alex halted,
stunned. 
What ho!  A thief?
  Heroics were completely out of her depth. 
She gazed longingly to where she knew the road to be, debating what to do. 

          Why could the chit
not just hand over her coin and let the man be?

          A second ticked
by.  Firedancer twitched in nervousness, mirroring her emotions.  A bead of
sweat crept down her neck, and she wiped at it with her shoulder.

          The girl obviously
needed help, and there was no one else around ... Alex would charge the thief. 
Perhaps that would frighten him off.  And if not ... well, she could keep
going.  She nodded in satisfaction.  Aye, ‘twas a good plan.

          Withdrawing her
rapier for effect, Alex dug her heels into her horse’s flanks before she could
change her mind.  Firedancer leapt into eager action, plunging through the
short distance of forest.  Low branches tore at her head and arms, filling her
mouth with leaves.  She spat and sputtered, clinging for dear life to the
saddle, praying she wouldn’t be scraped off on one of the trunks.  What
insanity had possessed her to keep such a flighty animal?

          Firedancer vaulted
into the air and over a bush like he’d sprouted wings.  The gauntlet was
clear—except for a man and woman standing stock still in the road.

          The girl was the
only one to react, flinging herself from Alex’s path of doom.  A strangled
battle cry erupted from Alex’s throat.

          She swung mightily
at the mammoth of a man, her victory imminent, missing him by an arm’s length
as the blade sailed safely through the air and out of her grasp.

          Firedancer, a
war-horse who never missed his chance for glory, ground to an immediate halt,
slamming her into his head as he rear kicked the thief.  Bright lights danced
before her eyes, and she blinked rapidly to disperse them.  She whirled around,
horrified to see him crumpled in a heap.

          “What have you
done?!” Alex whispered furiously at Firedancer, rubbing the knot welling upon
her forehead, thinking frantically of the implication of murder.  She jumped
off and stumbled, then hobbled like an old woman to the man.  Poking him
cautiously with her toe, she was gratified to hear him moan in pain.

          “He still lives you
foul-tempered horse.”  Looking him over, she saw his head looked to be bumped
mighty hard, and the girl had taken the hide off his bones with her claws, but
he would live.

Everything
had worked out according to plan.

          The girl sobbed
from across the road, drawing her attention, looking upon Alex with a woebegone
expression.  ‘Twas difficult for her to believe she’d stood up against such a
giant of a man.  Either the girl was lightminded or ... or ... well, the girl
was lightminded.  She could think of no reason why she would have done such a
foolhardy thing.

          Shrugging, Alex
withdrew a length of braided leather from a pouch at her waist
.  ‘Twill do
the job well,
she thought. 

Crouching
low to the ground, her eyes watered at the unwashed smell of thug.  Holding her
breath, she put her shoulder against his back and pushed ... and pushed. 
Straining every muscle, forced to breathe the foul air, she finally managed to
roll him onto his stomach.  She stood, panting from her exertion.  He hadn’t
looked
that
heavy.  She wrestled his beefy arms to his back and bound
them together.  Satisfied he could cause no more hurt for a time, she turned to
leave.

Somehow,
the distraught girl had come skidding across the dirt into Alex’s ‘waiting’
arms.

          Between reverent,
hurried kisses on Alex’s face and neck, she murmured, “I thank thee, kind Sir. 
You are my hero ... my Savior!”

          Sputtering, Alex
pushed her away and held her at bay with one hand, frantically checking her
mustache with the other.  She sighed, relieved as she felt its comforting
presence.  The paste was hard put to stand up to such rigors.

          The girl began
thoroughly covering her knuckles and palm with affection.  Alex snatched her
hand back like she’d taken a bite out and hugged it to her breast.  “Madam!  I
pray thee, we must remember propriety above all else!”

          Subdued for a
moment, the girl raised her worshipful gaze to Alex’s horrified one.  It seemed
she had somehow managed to make a conquest of the
lady
—using the term
loosely.  Dusty black hair hung in straggled locks down to her waist.  Her face
was covered with grime and a few tear tracks, but cleaned up, she would be a
lovely girl.  She had the look of a cat to her—a wildcat—with her arched brows
and amber eyes.

          Alex desperately
needed to be away.  She had enough complication in her life, she needed not one
more.

          “W-what is your
name, Madam?”  She moved casually closer to her horse.

          The girl chuckled
and smiled coyly—as though they were not standing in the middle of nowhere
beside a trussed ruffian.  “Forgive me, kind Sir.  I do but forget my
manners.”  She curtsied deeply.  “I am Constance Blackmore.  My father is Lord
Derwin.”

          Saints!  She never
would have imagined....  What sort of father let his child roam the countryside
unescorted?

          Playing her part,
Alex removed her plumed cap and made a sweeping bow.  She thought it wise to
forego kissing the maiden’s hand.  “Lord Alex Montague at your service. 
Protector of the innocent, righter of injustice.”  She rather liked the way
that sounded, and it was well worth the prick of guilt she felt at her
deception.

          Lady Constance
twittered.  Alex smiled nervously, eyeing her horse, wondering if she ought not
to have encouraged the girl.

          “Perchance we shall
meet again, milady.  If it pleases you, I must be away.  The hour grows late.”

          “It most certainly
does not please me.  I wouldst have you see me home to my father.  He will be
very worried.”

          “I cannot, forgive
me.”  She climbed onto her horse.  “’Tis near full dark, and I must find
shelter for the night.”  She did not like the dark.  There was too great a
chance she’d injure herself--or rather, Firedancer would injure her.

          Constance clung to
her leg.  Alex resisted her first impulse to shake her off like an annoying
pup.

          “You can stay at
Derwin Hall.”  She batted her lashes beguilingly.  When Alex made no response,
she said, “You cannot leave me here.  What sort of gentleman are you?”

          “Saints!  I cannot
go traipsing about the country-side.  I say thee, nay!”

          Constance pouted,
sniffling a little, working into Alex’s guilty conscience.  The girl couldn’t
be that far from home, and taking her there would be the right thing to do. 
No.  She shook her head.  Her mind was made, she would not back down.

          Impatient with
Alex’s silence, Constance said, “You will take me, or I shall ... I shall tell
my father of your dastardly deeds, deceiver!”

          Her eyes widened. 
Mayhap she had misjudged the girl.  “Deceiver?  I would never—”

          “Protector of women
are you?  My father will—”

          “Nay, hush.”  She
sighed heavily.  “What wouldst you have of me?” Alex asked softly, covering her
eyes with one hand and resisting her strong desire to bolt.  She
could
outrun the girl.  It was possible she could escape with her hide intact.

          “’Tis plain as
day.  Take me to my father’s house.  ‘Tis but a short ... distance.  I am sure
of it.”

          Guileless,
beseeching eyes stared up at her.  No doubt she’d ensnared many a hapless fool
in her schemes.  Alex groaned.  Being a hero was no fun a’tall.  She really
hadn’t a heroic bone in her body.  All she could think of was getting rid of
the girl.  She should be on her way.  Time was of the essence, and here she
sat, bickering like a child.

          Lady Constance
touched Alex’s sleeve hesitantly.  “My father will be very grateful to you,”
she said, a tremulous note to her voice.  Her wide, clear eyes filled with
unshed tears—a ploy that doubtless had worked on many a man.  But Alex was not
a man and therefore not given to their weakness.

* * * *

          “An it please you,
my lady, cease and desist!  I cannot keep my mind on our surroundings with your
constant prattle.”

          Night shrouded them
in its inky embrace, the light of the moon doing little to illuminate the gloom
through the darkened wood.  Firedancer jumped at every rustle of leaf, every
night insect’s song, making her a wreck.  Doubtless his nervousness was what
had destined him to be her mount instead of some brave knight’s.

          She looked into the
dusky woods, wondering when the days had grown so short.  Winter was fast
approaching, but Alex felt the heat of hell entwined about her waist.

          She knew it was her
punishment for her deception—not that she believed she deserved it.  Dire
circumstances could force even the most steadfast to take drastic measures.

          “How testy you
are.  My father will likely hold great feasts in your honor.  Where do you go
in such a rush?”

          “The McPhersons,”
Alex replied distractedly.  Constance sucked her breath in sharply, unnoticed.

Was
that light ahead
?  Alex raised up in
the saddle and peered intently into the dark.

          “You can’t mean to
see them alone?  They would roast you alive, pick their teeth with your bones! 
They are most hideous, odious--”