Miles Montgomery raised one dark eyebrow and it was enough to make his man back down. Sometimes men newly in his service thought that since their master
was so young, they could take liberties.
“Could there be a man rolled in the carpet?” asked the man beside Miles.
The subdued retainer craned his neck to look up at Sir Guy. “A very small one, perhaps.”
Sir Guy looked down at Miles and there passed a silent communication between them. “Send him and his gift in,” Sir Guy said. “We will meet them with drawn swords.”
The knight left and within seconds he returned, his sword pointed at the small of the back of the man carrying the carpet. Insolently, smirking, John half tossed his bundle to the carpeted ground and with his foot pushed it very hard, sending it, unrolling, toward Miles Montgomery’s feet.
When at last the carpet stopped, there were four stunned faces as they gaped at what lay before them: a nude woman, her eyes closed, long thick lashes soft on delicately colored cheeks, great massive torrents of honey blonde hair wrapped and twisted about her, curls tickling her waist and the tops of her thighs. She was outrageously curved with large firm breasts, a tiny waist, long, long legs. And her face was something men expected to see only in heaven—delicate, ethereal, not quite of this world.
Smiling triumphantly, John slipped out of the tent unnoticed.
Elizabeth, half dazed from the lack of air, opened her eyes slowly and looked up to see four men standing over her, their swords drawn but aimed toward the ground. Two of the men were obviously retainers and she dismissed them. The third man was a giant, several inches over six feet, steel gray hair, a scar running diagonally across his entire face. Although the man was indeed frightening, she somehow sensed he was not the leader of this group.
Beside the giant was another man dressed resplendently in deep blue satin. Elizabeth was accustomed to seeing strong, handsome men, but something about this one with his leashed power held in check so easily made her stare. The other men’s eyes were fastened on Elizabeth’s body, but this man turned and she looked for the first time into the face of Miles Montgomery, and their eyes locked.
He was a handsome man, very very handsome, with dark gray eyes under heavy, arched brows, a thin nose with slightly flaring nostrils and a full sensual mouth.
Danger! was Elizabeth’s first thought. This man was dangerous to women as well as men.
She broke eye contact with him and in seconds she stood, grabbing a pelt from one of the cots near her and a war ax from the top of the table. “I will kill the first man who comes near me,” she said, holding the ax with one hand while she tossed the pelt over one shoulder, leaving the other bare, one leg exposed from waist to bare foot.
The giant took a step toward her and she raised the ax, both hands on the handle.
“I know how to use this,” she warned, looking up at the man with absolutely no fear.
The two knights took a step closer toward her and Elizabeth backed away, looking from one to the other. The back of her knees hit the edge of the cot and she could go no farther. One of the knights smiled at her and she snarled at him in return.
“Leave us.”
The words were quiet, uttered in a low voice, but it held command and all of them looked at Montgomery.
The giant of a man gave Elizabeth one last look, then nodded at the two knights and the three of them left the tent.
Elizabeth tightened her grip on the ax, her knuckles already white, as she glared across the space toward Miles Montgomery. “I will kill you,” she said through her teeth. “Do not think that because I’m a woman I won’t enjoy hacking a man to pieces. I would love to see the blood of a Montgomery spilled upon the earth.”
Miles didn’t move from his place by the table, but kept watching. After a moment he lifted his sword and Elizabeth drew in her breath, preparing for the battle to come. Very slowly, he placed his sword on the table and turned away from her, presenting his profile. Again slowly, he removed the jeweled dagger he wore at his side and placed it on the table beside the sword.
He turned back to her, his face expressionless, his eyes giving nothing away, and took a step toward her.
Elizabeth lifted the heavy ax and held it in readiness. She would fight to the death, for death was preferable to the beating and rape she knew this devil-man planned.
Miles sat down on a stool, several feet in front of her; he did not speak, but only watched her.
So! he did not think a woman a worthy opponent, but disarmed himself and sat down while she held a weapon of death over his head. With one lunge, she leaped forward and swung the ax at his neck.
Effortlessly, he caught the handle in his right hand, easily held it and looked into her eyes as she stood close to him. For a moment she was paralyzed, hypnotized by his eyes. He seemed to be searching her face for something, as if he asked silent questions of her.
She jerked the ax away from his grip and nearly fell when she found he released it freely. She caught herself at the edge of the table. “Damn you!” she said under her breath. “May the Lord and all His angels curse the day a Montgomery was born. May you and all your descendants writhe in the fires of hell forever.”
Her voice had risen almost to a shout and outside she could hear movement.
Miles still sat there, watching her silently, and Elizabeth could feel her blood beginning to boil. When she saw her hands starting to shake, she knew she must calm herself. Where was the cool detachment she’d cultivated over the years?
If this man could remain calm, so could she. She listened and if her guess were correct, the sounds she heard outside were the men moving away. Perhaps if she could get past this one man, she could escape and get home to her brother.