Chapter One
1148, Sudwic, Northamptonshire
“You are mine, ma petite.”
Reynard Devin de Fauconer growled low into the woman’s hair, a whisper above the pounding of heart and hooves. Despite his claim, she continued to struggle against the arm wrapped hard around her waist.
“You bastard. How dare you take me!” she cried, lunging forward, fighting against his grasp.
He grunted as her elbow smashed into his ribs. The instant his hold loosened, the girl dove for the reins. She screamed, teetering to one side, slipping from the saddle.
Fear slammed into his gut, twisting his heart. If she were to fall now, she would be trampled by the stampeding hooves. His heated passions responsible for yet another woman’s death.
I will not let that happen!
Heart lurching, the knight leaned forward and slipped his arm about her waist. He yanked her back, slamming the girl hard against his chest. Tightening his grip on the slack reins, he urged the destrier faster, desperate to calm the clash of dread and rage, swiftly rising within his breast.
Doubling over his arm, she began wheezing like an old woman.
“If you ever act so foolish again, my lady, I will beat you.” Reynard snarled furiously.
He felt her stiffen at his words, her heart pounding in time to his. Guilt instantly assailed him, but there was no time to soothe her fears, not with their pursuers bent on their capture.
Growling in frustration, Reynard endeavoured to keep her seated on the saddle as the lady renewed her struggles. But he could tell it was only half-hearted, more an annoyance, a distraction, than a true bid for freedom.
The girl shrieked as they galloped around an obscured bend, speeding toward a low lying branch, which threatened to sweep them both from their mount.
“Duck!” he shouted.
Leaning forward, he pressed the maiden flat against the saddle, his weight heavy on her back, and dug his heels into the mount’s quivering flanks. The bough skimmed over his head as the charger raced down the narrow path, dirt and moss flying in its wake.
“Damnation!” Reynard swore, realizing the troop of men were closing in on them much too quickly. Damn the girl! Why the hell had he decided to take her with him anyway? Hastily, he pushed the thought aside and concentrated on escaping. With his arm still wrapped tightly about her waist, he continued to press her into the saddle, frustrating her futile attempts.
Lunging into the air, the warhorse vaulted over the fallen tree in their path, before plunging deeper into the gloom of Walgrave Forest. Reynard straightened with his priceless human cargo pressed tight against him, unwilling to release her. Tall branching trees of oak, elm, and birch loomed before them in the winding path, their newly budding limbs twisting in the spring breeze.
Shouts and the rumble of hooves striking the earth shattered the quiet of the forest. Somehow he had to lose them for the baron knew these woods as well as he and would not relent until Reynard was captured and Lady Rianna de Termonde—his captive—was safely within the bastard’s grasp. A plan began to form. It would be his only chance to shake off his pursuers.
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