Knight's Captive Read Online Free Page B

escape?”
    “The commander is an honourable man I believe.
However, he was lost when the ship went down. I have hopes that he survived but
had no chance to find out as much.”
    “And the woman?”
    “His daughter. It is
essential she is looked after properly. And essential she does not leave this
house. I trust not this woman. She was prepared to die rather than leave her
father.” If she survived her ordeal. Henry
tilted the ink pot on his desk and eyed it with dissatisfaction. “Has the
physician been sent for?”
    “Aye, Kate sent Bram.”
    “Let us pray she survives long enough to see
him,” he muttered to himself.  “When Bram returns, send him down to the
barn to see if there is word of the commander and my lieutenant, and inform
them I’ll be there shortly to oversee the capture. As soon as I have sent word to
London of our success here, I’ll ride down myself.”
    “Very well, sir. May I suggest you eat and drink
first?”
    Henry tried not to give Fredericks a steely
glare. He was no babe, he didn’t need mothering. The man had been trying to look
after him ever since his father had passed.
    “I have little intention of starving.” The man
lingered so with an inward groan, Henry poured himself a goblet of claret and
tore off a piece of bread to stuff it in his mouth. Around the mouthful he
said, “Send someone up with some ink, will you?”
    Fredericks gave him a slow nod—one that had him
feeling like the man was humouring him in some way as though he was a young lad
playing at being a grown man. He swallowed down the bread and shook his head.
Was his life not already complicated enough? Not only was he trying to fill his
father’s boots but now he had this odd Spanish woman to deal with.

Chapter
Four
    Darkness. Antonia gripped the bed sheets around her, feeling that familiar panic rise in
her chest. She closed her eyes and opened them again but the darkness remained.
Why was it dark? She never slept without several candles burning. She forced
herself to take a few deep breaths and stare into the darkness.
    Nothing to fear, she
told herself. Nothing to... The darkness lessened as her eyes adjusted.
Where was she? ¡Dios mío! Her breaths grew thick and heavy again, her
body rigid. What had happened? The ship, her father... Si , she
remembered that but after...
    The man—Henry. He had
taken her in his arms. This had to be his house. She was now under house
arrest.
    A prisoner.
    Antonia gulped and tried to draw in air but her
throat felt as though it was closing over. Did it have to be so dark? She needed
to find a candle and light it, but her body refused to move. If she put out her
hands, she’d be able to reassure herself that she wasn’t shut away in a box
again, but the room was so small. She peered up at the bed and the thick wood
seemed like that of a coffin lid to her. Her pulse pounded so loudly it was on
the verge of deafening.
    First, she concentrated on her stiff hands. She
unfurled them from the bedding and tried not to sob with fear. The ache in her
chest grew more intense. Over the thud of her heart, she was sure she could
hear footsteps and the creak of floorboards. He was coming for her.
    Except he wasn’t. Lorenzo was dead. He couldn’t hurt her anymore. Not that the knowledge mattered
to her galloping heart. Reason played no part in her imaginings at night.
    With her fingers moving again, she forced her
mind to think of her legs. They were achy and weary. Her skin was still cold.
Funny how nearly drowning didn’t create nearly as much fear as being trapped in
a small, dark room. She drew in a shuddery breath and gave her legs a twitch.
There, see, she could move. She kicked again. Lots of room to
move. Nothing to fear.
    Antonia sat up in one swift motion. Her head
spun a little and she took in the gloomy room. Thick curtains were drawn across
the one window and at the end of the room appeared to be a large storage chest.
A sob bubbled out of her. It was no good, she