Betrothed Read Online Free Page B

would be swift and vicious.”
    “Would
it, now?” The smile that curved his mouth twisted the fear churning in her
belly. It appeared he had no fear for the legendary Donovan d’Allyonshire,
second Earl of Bennington; King Edward’s favored warrior. So why would he fear
her—no matter her guise? 
    “Carstairs?
A moi,” he called over his shoulder as he continued his steady approach. Another
figure filled the opening in the trees and Isabeau knew she was lost.
    Pray, let them kill me quick.
    “Aye,
my lord?”
    The
first man waved a gauntlet in her direction—not his sword arm, she noticed.
“This pup states quite boldly that he is doing Bennington’s business.”
    “Does
he?”
    Isabeau
could feel her color leach under the intense scrutiny of both men.
    “ ’Tis the Bennington livery, all right,” The
second man added after he made a head to toe survey. “How many Bennington
messengers are on the road?”
    Isabeau
took a step back and slipped on the slick bank. She would have gone backwards
into the water if not for the snake-like reactions of the first man. He grasped
her forearm and yanked her forward. “Just the one.”
    “And
even I can tell that is not young Malak. For one thing, he is much too quiet,”
the second man commented humorously.
    “What
has happened to my man?” the scarred one demanded menacingly as he shook her.
“As you so rightly brayed, my revenge is swift and vicious. What have you done
to Malak that you wear his clothes?”
    Isabeau’s
mouth went dry as she comprehended exactly who had crossed her path.
    By the saints, she was dead.
    She
tried to find words—any words that could save her life. Of all people to meet, she
never dreamed she would encounter the earl himself. She swallowed and coughed
on the dry knot in her throat.
    “My
--my lord. I meant no harm. I have done no harm. Malak should safely be on his
way to Montrose as we speak. He was to leave Olivet Manor this very morn.”
    He
shook her arm again. “Then what is the meaning of this?  How do you come
to be wearing his clothes?  Did you even leave him his breeches?  Or
is he going bare-assed?”
    Her
cheeks began to burn. “I swear Malak has come to no harm, nor is he—bare-assed.
I wear a copy of his livery only.”
    His
intense dark blue stare of appraisal sent shivers through her. “A poor
imitation of my livery. You can thank shoddy tailoring for adding a few hours
to your life, pup.”
    “Please,
let me go. I only wished to travel un-accosted. I hoped no one would hinder my
passage. I meant no ill.”
    “I
don’t believe you.” He pulled Isabeau towards Meadowlark and then grabbed the
palfrey’s reins with his free hand. “I’ll not let you out of my sight until I
have proof Malak has come to no harm. You say he was at Olivet this morning?”
    “Aye,”
she nodded breathlessly.
    “Carstairs,
tell the men there will be a change in our travel plans.”
    “Aye,
my lord.” Carstairs turned back to the road.
    “We
now travel to Montrose with a stop at Olivet on the way.”
    “No,”
Isabeau sobbed. She tried to recover but she could feel her hope withering. “I
tell you, Malak is no longer at Olivet. He is on his way to Montrose.”
    “What
are you?  A thief?  Did you rob Olivet of a bobble or two?  I’ll
have Carstairs go through your packs before we set out. I’m sure Olivet will
know what to do with a petty thief.”
    She
stumbled, trying to keep up with his long legs. Her head brushed against the
earl’s shoulder and shifted her worn hat. The movement apparently caught his
eye for he turned his attention back to her and he halted so fast she cannoned
into him. Again, he kept her on her feet.
    “What
is this?” He whipped the cap off before she could blink, revealing her braids.
“A female?  Just who are you?”
    Isabeau
wanted to cry but she tilted her chin and held back the tears burning her eyes.
“I’m Lady Isabeau d’Olivet. My brother is Simon, Lord