The High Sheriff of Huntingdon (3 page)

He
preferred
t
o
sal
vage what
he could
in
the
face of the
sheriff’s
seemingly
insatiable
lust
for
power
and
pos
sessions.
And indeed,
Elspeth
was
no sacrifice
at
all.

He
glanced over
at his
daughter,
who
was
swaying
silently
w
i
t
h
the
motion
of
the
slow-moving c
a
rri
a
g
e
.
She was
a
changeling,
this first
daughter of
his,
with
her tall,
willowy
body, her straight, flaxen
hair and pale face. Her
eyes were very
blue, like
those of
his
d
e
a
d
wife,
and
just
as reproachful
. Her usually
gentle
mouth was set
in
a
grim,
uncompromising line,
a
n
d her
narrow,
graceful hands
were folded in her lap.

She still w
ore
her
p
u
r
e
white habit,
though it had
cl
e
ar
ly seen
better
days.
She
was
quite
st
r
o
ng
,
and
the
wo
m
e
n
attendants he’d brought
with him had
been
no
match
for her
when they tried
to
f
o
r
ce
her to
c
h
a
n
g
e
into
t
h
e beautiful
golden
gown he’d taken from his yo
u
n
g
e
s
t
d
a
u
g
h
t
e
r, Rowena.
He
hated
to think of
Rowena’s reaction
w
h
en
she
got
h
e
r
favorite dress
back, after
it
had been trampled
in
the
dirt
by her sister’s
angry
feet.

Sir
H
u
g
h
couldn’t
decide which was the
b
ett
e
r
part of valor—to
have
his
men
strip
E
l
s
p
et
h
,
or
to present her
to
h
e
r
husband
dressed in holy
g
a
rb
.
Either made
him shudder,
and being
a man
who
disliked
unpleasant
ness,
he
s
i
mp
l
y
refused
to
decide.
If Alistair
Darcourt insisted on taking
his
eldest
da
u
g
h
ter
to wife,
then
he’d
have to
accept
her in
her
present
clothing.

The heavy
traveling
coach
went
over a
bump,
tossing
E
l
speth
against the side, and
her
long
pale
hair
drifted
over
her
face.
At
least they’d
managed
to
destroy her damned
wimple
duri
n
g
the
fruitless
battle
for
clothing. She
lo
o
k
e
d
like
a
witch
h
er
s
e
l
f
,
cool
and
white
and angry. He
wondered
if
Darcourt
had any idea what
he’d gotten
himself
into.

A
year
from
now,
h
i
s
stubborn Elspeth
would
be
quiet
and tamed.
That, or Darcourt
would
have
killed
her.

Sir
H
u
g
h
viewed
the
possible
loss
of
h
i
s
daughter
with
a
determined lack
of
emotion.
After
all,
he’d lost
three
daughters
in
childbirth,
and
two
sons.
Nothing
could grieve
him
after
his
second
son
had
died
at the age
of two,
taking
his
mother
with him. He
had
daughters
to
spare.

Of
course,
t
he
r
e
was always the
possibility
that
Elspeth could succeed
where
no
man
h
a
d
as yet.
Perhaps she would
b
e
the death of
the sheriff himself. She certainly
had
nearly been
the
d
e
at
h
of her
poor, beleaguered
father.

They’d
arrive
at Huntingdon
Castle by evening, if Elspeth
didn’t play
a
n
y
more of
h
e
r
tricks. Indeed,
Sir
Hugh fancied the light
h
ad
gone out of
h
er
,
at least
temporarily.
She
looked
bone weary
and accepting of
her
fate.
It was
a
good
thing
she’d been
in
the
convent s
ince
the
sheriff’s
rapid rise
to power.
She
wouldn’t
know
the
stories
circulating
about him.