Taken and Seduced (5 page)

“My thanks, Lady Florence.”

“But we weren’t alerted early enough,” Sir Adam said.

Sir Robert sighed. “Aye, they were wily. I missed them at first, since they crept along the low wall.”

Sir Michael lifted his head. “Lady Florence did not miss her opportunity. She handled herself well.”

She felt foolish blushing at praise—from a man who was one of her kidnappers.

Sir Robert grinned at his brother. “Michael tells me she saved your hide.”

“And I returned the favor,” Sir Adam said, arching a brow.

Florrie watched him turn back to stare almost broodingly into the small fire. She was not about to thank him for saving her. He didn’t need to know just yet about her enjoyment of this strange journey.

They sat about the fire in companionable silence for a while longer, until at last the ex
citement began to fade from her body, leaving exhaustion in its wake. She yawned, and her head nodded.

She found herself scooped up by Sir Adam. As she stiffened, he immediately set her on the blanket and came down behind her. She thought again of how he’d behaved when the thief had come in through the window.

Turning to look over her shoulder at him, she said, “You protected me.”

He blinked sleepy eyes at her. “I protected my prize.” He lifted her wrist and tied the rope that bound her to him.

She gave him a glare. “And I thought you simply forgot to tie me up earlier tonight.”

“Nay, I did not. I needed my hands free.”

She turned away and curled up with her hands beneath her cheek, the rope easily forgotten. Regardless of the danger, she at last admitted that she was almost…enjoying herself. She had a strong man to protect her along the way, she was riding and seeing sights she’d never seen before—and she
wasn’t
taking care of her oldest sister, Matilda, who was pregnant with her second child.

Wherever this journey ended, Sir Adam would eventually realize that he could not challenge her father. No one was going to die. She could feel free to watch the adventure unfold. It would have to be an adventure that she could cherish for the rest of her life, for it would be her last.

She fell asleep wearing a smile, not even realizing that in her drowsy state, she snuggled back against Sir Adam.

The next morning, as rain drizzled across a gray landscape, Florrie stood in the doorway of the cattle shed and watched as Sir Adam checked the bindings on his prisoners. Feeling hesitant, she wondered what he would do, how he would take his revenge on men who’d dared attack him. Sir Robert and Sir Michael watched with impassive expressions. She wanted to demand their intercession, their compassion, but knew they gave their leader their complete loyalty.

So she waited, out of the rain, biting her fingernail, tense as she fought the urge to speak.

Sir Adam turned his back on the bound men and moved toward his horse. He removed something from his saddlebag and tossed it to Florrie, who almost dropped it in surprise. It was a woman’s wool cloak. He’d had one all along. Saying nothing, she only glared at him as she drew it on and fastened it at her throat. He motioned to her horse, and she couldn’t help glancing at their prisoners, who’d begun to squirm as they fought the ropes.

“But…” she began, motioning to the thieves.

“A shepherd or farmer will find them soon enough,” Sir Adam said blandly. “Or they can take turns biting at the knots in each others’ bindings.”

As the five thieves heard that, muffled oaths exploded from behind their gags. Florrie’s face eased into a smile. Sir Adam wasn’t going to kill men who’d tried their best to kill him. Some ruthless knight was he. Her last fear of his supposed cruelty faded away. Happily, she mounted her horse, and when they were out of sight of the thieves, almost held out her wrist for his rope. At the last moment, she remembered to wait, and he reached across the space between their horses and grabbed her hand. She tried to pull away, even after he looped the rope tight. All it got her was a wince of pain at the abrasion—and the satisfaction of knowing he still believed she wanted to escape.

The rain continued to fall all morning, and though Florrie was damp, at least she wasn’t cold. They kept to the side roads, more paths than highways, as they wound through the hills and across the moorlands. She could not miss that it was Sir Michael with whom Sir Adam discussed their choice of direction. Sir Adam, obviously raised to be a knight, perhaps knew the main highways better than the ones that would keep them—and their kidnapping of her—better hidden.

At last the road led down the steep hillsides of a dale, then followed the path of a river. Sir Adam wouldn’t tell her its name—as if such a thing would matter to her, she who’d lived so sheltered a life. Knowledge of names wouldn’t help her escape, but he obviously wasn’t taking chances.

They saw a traveler or two every hour now, and she knew they were nearing a town rather than a village. Sir Adam could no longer keep her by his side with the rope leash, but she gave him no cause to doubt her intentions—yet. A plan was bubbling to life inside her, and the excitement of it almost made her giddy. He would have no cause to doubt that she was his “unwilling” captive—even though she wasn’t. She was learning about him in bits and pieces; she could be patient.

They took a turn in the road, and the town spread out before them, with a castle high on the cliff and immense arches of stone spanning the river.

Sir Adam lifted a hand, calling the party to a halt beneath the spread of an ancient oak tree, its branches giving them shelter from the rain. “We need provisions. Robert and Michael, you will both go into town—”

“What town is it?” she interrupted innocently.

He only gave her a look, then turned back to his men. “While I remain here with our companion.”

“Your
captive
,” she said, giving him a smile. “Do not make me stay here. Let me go, too. I have never seen…whatever town it is. Maybe we can even sleep in real beds tonight! I promise to remain silent for such a wondrous reward.”

Sir Adam waited to answer her as a farmer driving a covered cart went by, glancing at them with little interest. “My lady, you cannot be trusted.”

“I know you’ll hurt people if I disobey you.”

He blinked.

“I would not risk that,” she continued with wide-eyed innocence.

He ignored her and nodded to their two companions, who avoided Florrie as they rode away. She had expected no less, but she deliberately pouted anyway, hoping to deceive Sir Adam while she waited for her moment.

She didn’t have long to wait. A larger party appeared within the hour, several women and men, including children, all with close enough looks to be a family. As Sir Adam watched them, studying them as he did everyone, she tapped her horse’s flanks and rode into the lane beside the family, nodding pleasantly. She didn’t look at Sir Adam, but felt his presence come up beside her before she could see him.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded in a low voice.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” she said through smiling lips. “What a lovely child you have!” she cried to one of the younger women. Then she scowled at Sir Adam, who watched her warily. “I had to leave my own little boy at home. My husband believed the journey too arduous. Separating a mother and child is far worse, or so I think!”

She was drawn into a conversation about children that lasted until they reached the open gates of the town. From the family, she learned it was Richmond, in Yorkshire’s North Riding.
She glanced at Sir Adam with an intimate smile, hoping he realized he could no longer keep such information from her. His face was impassive, a husband tolerant of his silly wife, but those blue eyes were as dark as mountain lakes in the winter.

In the process of slowing to go through the gates, she maneuvered herself to the far side of the family, keeping them between her and her frustrated captor. Then she eased into a cantor, and took off down a side lane. Before he’d even worked his way through the family, she turned up another lane and he was out of sight.

A
dam was not surprised in the least when Lady Florence galloped away. He had to admire her horsemanship, even as he maneuvered carefully through the jostling crowd of adults and children. When he was free, he saw her down several streets as they rode parallel to each other.

Why did she continue riding instead of asking for directions to the local constable? A smart woman would do so if she were far from home and needed to return. Instead, she continued riding with purpose, but not out of town.

He came around the edge of a stone house, and she was suddenly there, at the end of the street. But…it shouldn’t have happened so easily. She gave a large gasp when she saw him and tried to escape, but the street was far narrower, and there were children herding several pigs in front of her.

With her horsemanship, she could have escaped when she’d first entered the town…but she hadn’t. Instead she looked crestfallen as he rode
up beside her, and even slumped in the saddle. But he could have sworn those green eyes were alight with mischief. What was she up to?

He went along with her performance, acting stern and disappointed, promising with his eyes he’d reveal his anger when they were alone. She gave every impression of meekness as she rode at his side.

Was this behavior something about women he didn’t understand? God knew, there were so many things about the fair sex that eluded him. But for now he would hold his questions until they were able to speak in private.

He led her back the way they’d come, but met up with Robert and Michael before arriving at their original meeting place. The two men looked at her, then him, but he only shook his head. They passed by the town on a path near the river’s edge, below the cliff. It was many hours later before he finally allowed them to stop for supper and make camp in a stand of trees several paces in from the road. He didn’t permit her to wash herself, knowing punishment was necessary.

But punishment for deliberately allowing herself to get caught?

As the sun set, he sent Michael and Robert to scout the roads before and behind them. They both glanced at the crestfallen Lady Florence, Robert looking like he wanted to speak, but they did as they were told. When they had gone, Adam saw her grow tense, waiting.

He squatted down beside her. Where once it would have bothered him that she cringed away, now it didn’t. It was all a game to her.

“Come lie beside me, Lady Florence,” he commanded, taking her wrist.

She gave a shaky sigh and crawled onto the nearby blanket with him. Then she glanced up at him with luminous eyes. “So you’re not going to punish me?”

“Sleeping in the filth from the road is not punishment enough?”

She nodded, dropping her gaze. “Of course it is. I was foolish to think I could elude you.”

He only growled and pulled her down before him. He enfolded himself around her, driven even more to distraction by her compact curves, and the softness of her hair. Without thinking, he released the leather tie holding her braid together and spread her hair across her shoulders.

She tensed but didn’t look back at him. “What are you doing?”

“Punishing you.” He combed his fingers through her hair slowly, felt the way she tried to pull away. He caught her hip and held her more firmly against him. “Do you dare resist me?”

He was trying to push her past her limits, wanting the truth, but he was losing the battle to ignore the temptation of her. She would fight him soon, or cry, or finally tell him everything. But could he last that long? Holding back a groan, he rolled his groin even harder against the sweet curve of her ass.

“What is that?” she suddenly asked in a clear voice.

He froze. “Did you hear something?”

She pushed her hips back against him, and he couldn’t help inhaling swiftly at the pleasure of it.

“Nay,
that
,” she said. “I have felt it every time you lie with me. Do you carry a hidden weapon within your clothing?”

He was so taken aback by her naïve forthrightness that he actually snorted. He took her shoulder and pressed her onto her back, grimacing against the sensation of her sliding against him. Somehow he had to be the one in control of this situation.

Bending his elbow and propping his head on his hand, he looked down at her, seeing open curiosity. “I know you are an innocent, Lady Florence, but do you know absolutely nothing of the male form?”

She blinked at him in puzzlement, until at last something connected in her mind. Her pale skin blushed a fiery red, and he could barely stop himself from grinning down at her. She was so very complicated—confusing him one moment, frustrating him the next, and now amusing him.

When she tried to move her hips away from him, something dark came over him, and he kept her body tight against his. He leaned over her until their faces were but inches apart.

“My lady, this part of a man’s body isn’t always
so noticeable. But it comes to attention when a lovely woman is nearby.”

The play of expressions on her face was fascinating. She was obviously embarrassed and confused—and then, to his surprise, indignant.

“Now you are lying to me, Sir Adam!”

He blinked. “Lying? The evidence is obvious.”

“You are not feeling emotions for me.”

“Not romantic emotions, that is true,” he said dryly. “But a man doesn’t have to feel any emotion if his body is lusting.”

She gave his shoulder a little push, scoffing, “You are teasing me again. Is this some kind of punishment?”

She didn’t think he told the truth? Or she didn’t think she could inspire a man to passion. Who had led her to believe such a thing?

And why wasn’t she frightened of him?

He’d lost all control of this kidnapping, and suddenly, with her body against his, her lips pouting, he wanted to kiss her. Her eyes went wide as he leaned even closer, and her face paled.

Kiss his captive, a woman at his mercy?

But, ah, even with the dust of the road, she smelled so wonderful, a sweet, musky woman. Her softly parted lips beckoned to him, the warmth of her breath lured him, and before he knew it, his lips touched hers in the briefest of kisses, as tantalizing as a deeper kiss, because it was so forbidden.

He reared back, inhaling and closing his eyes.
Their relationship had altered; her behavior had changed everything. At last he dropped his forbidding-captor mask and spoke plainly. “Why are you not afraid of me?”

She licked her lips as she slowly pulled her gaze from his mouth. Adam almost lost his breath, his will to resist her hanging on by the briefest thread.

She shrugged, then looked down at her fingers, which were twisted together as if she didn’t know what to do with them.

As if she wanted to touch him.

And he so wanted to touch and explore her.

“I know you won’t hurt me,” she said in a small voice.

“That still doesn’t explain why you did not finish your escape today. I saw the whole thing.”

Her gaze flew back to his. “You did?”

“Aye! You were not even riding fast, and you deliberately waited for me to catch you. Tell me why.”

She sighed. “I had to make you think I wanted to escape. Otherwise you’d think I was against my own father—and that is not true! You’ve told me nothing about your connection with him, after all.”

“So you do not want to escape?” he demanded with exasperation. He wondered if her upbringing was as stilted as his, but that couldn’t be—she was the daughter of a marquess. “Why would a
woman want to be dragged from her comfortable home and used against her father?”

“Well, I do not want to be
used.
But I am bound for the convent, and this is the first adventure I’ve ever had…”

Her voice trailed off, and she looked up at him wearing a hesitant smile.

Now it was his turn to gape. “The
convent
? I kidnapped a
nun
?” He put several inches between their bodies.

“I am not a nun yet, not even a novice,” she quickly said. “I shall take the veil when my sister, Matilda, no longer needs me.”

And here he’d been telling her about how he lusted after her. A nun. “And you
want
this cloistered life?” he said weakly.

“Nay, I do not, but my wishes are unimportant. I will do as my father commands, because it is my duty to him.”

“So ’twas your father’s idea.”

She nodded, not even looking sad or angry. He didn’t know what to think.

“So I’m not kidnapping you, I’m rescuing you.”

“Nay, I do not think that.”

“But you want to be with us instead of at home.”

She nodded, smiling. “Although ’tis dangerous, I am rather enjoying myself. But I couldn’t let you know that too soon, or you might return me home immediately. I know my future duty, but I don’t
have to live it right now. Please tell me you won’t take me home.”

“So that’s why you faked an escape attempt today.”

She gave another nod. “You are not too angry?”

He hesitated before shaking his head. “But I still do not understand you. I am going to challenge your father, and I’m making you part of it.”

“I cannot control what you do,” she said softly. “My father will understand that. Are you going to return me home now that you know the truth?”

She stared up at him, all soft woman, pleading with emerald eyes.

“Adam, can you not answer me?” she whispered, reaching up to touch his chest. “Will you still take me with you? I would like to have memories to dream of when I leave the regular world.”

He looked down at her hand, which seemed to burn his flesh through his clothing. And he wanted her more than ever, this woman he didn’t understand, who thought a kidnapping and dangerous journey were part of an innocent adventure.

He should think her a fool; instead he found himself pitying her. How had a cruel bastard fathered such a woman?

He rolled on to his back and flung his arm over his eyes with a sigh. “My plan has not changed. You will ride with us.”

She actually gave a joyful laugh. He looked at her dubiously and found her staring up in content
ment at the stars glittering through the branches of the trees. There was silence hanging in the night, and darkness all around them but for the glow of their small fire.

“I like sleeping out of doors,” she said softly. “Have you done it often?”

He couldn’t stop looking at her happy expression in disbelief. “When necessary.” Now that she was not “pretending” to be frightened, her worried expression was gone, and her pink mouth was curved into a natural smile. How could she smile so easily, after what her life had been like? Condemned to the nunnery because of a limp? Or was there more to it?

He wouldn’t care; he didn’t want to feel anything for her but a lust that he would control.

“You do not like to talk about yourself.” She said it in a playfully accusing manner.

“And you talk too much. I cannot imagine you taking a vow of silence.”

She actually giggled. He sighed and closed his eyes, trying to think only of sleep.

“I’m cold,” she whispered.

He stiffened in more ways than one. “Where is your cloak?”

“Wet. I laid it across a shrub to dry.”

Gritting his teeth, he rolled back onto his side, and she did the same. He didn’t want to touch her, but she literally took his arm and pulled it across her body, snuggling closer, tucking her hips right up against his groin. She sighed with content
ment, as if she didn’t care that she aroused him. Or didn’t understand the very real danger of him losing control.

But he never lost control.

And he was never going to be able to sleep.

Florrie awoke before Adam did. She lay unmoving, wickedly enjoying how warm and safe she felt snuggled in his arms. She’d known him less than four days, but already he inspired trust in her, as well as a need to understand him that was almost a physical ache.

She knew what was wrong with her. As a young girl, she used to dream too much about bold adventures. It had taken her away from the dreary uneasiness of her home, where her mother grew weaker with every miscarriage, and the entire household tiptoed around in fear of the marquess’s reaction to his continued lack of a son. In Florrie’s dreams, bold knights always rescued her—and instead, in real life, one had kidnapped her.

Her secret amusement turned to confusion. Before she’d confessed her future vocation, he’d actually told her that he lusted after her—or his body did. She’d often heard her father telling her sisters to be wary of being alone with a man, that men wanted what wasn’t theirs, endangering her father’s plans for their marriages.

Did Adam actually…want her in that way? She’d been shameless in her quest for warmth
before they’d fallen asleep last night, and he’d been most reluctant. Surely, now that he knew she was to be a nun, he would not let himself think that way about her.

But he’d kissed her. The soft press of his lips had been most tender, the closeness they’d shared far too attractive. She wished she’d kissed him back more, explored what she might never have again.

But as she lay there in the warmth of his embrace, she felt him stir and press into her with a slow roll of his hips. And to her amazement, she could actually feel that part of him growing. She was embarrassed and intrigued and overcome with a languid sensation of pleasure that she shouldn’t be feeling. He lowered his head to hers, then rubbed against her hair. Did he want to kiss her again? How would she resist him? He wasn’t even truly awake.

But she realized the moment he was, because his entire body grew tense against hers before he quickly sat up. She pressed up on her elbow and looked over her shoulder at him, forgetting until this moment that he’d unbound her hair the previous night. It slid about her shoulders, and he watched it, his eyes a dark blue smolder.

Biting her lip, she looked away from him. Though she wanted to experiment with his kisses, she knew he would be upset at her behavior.

The sun was shining through the trees, Robert was already gone, and Michael was frying some
thing in a skillet over the fire. That got her attention, and she sniffed in appreciation.