His Runaway Maiden. June Francis

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had given vent to her anger by smashing many a jar. Then they had locked her in her bedchamber and she had resorted to the submissive behaviour that had served her well in the past. But she was in no mood to act so at the moment. After all, she was supposed to be a brave youth, not a fearful girl.

      ‘I should have left you lying on the ground and ridden over you,’ she seethed. ‘Instead, I behaved like a Christian, and what thanks do I receive? You treat me like a cur.’ She glowered at him, thinking that she would have her revenge when they reached Lathom. She would call on the guards to take this foreigner prisoner.

      ‘If you wish for better treatment, Master Wood, I suggest you only speak when spoken to,’ said Alex.

      He tugged on the rope and she went flying into him. He picked her up as if she weighed no more than a bundle of rags and threw her into the saddle. As Rosamund grappled for the reins, Old Betsy let out a deep sigh and seemed to sag in the middle. The next moment Rosamund was almost dragged off her horse as Alex swung up on to his own mount.

      ‘This is intolerable!’ Her voice shook. ‘What is your reason for wishing to go to Appleby Manor, anyway?’

      ‘That is none of your business, lad,’ said Alex, giving her some slack. ‘Take me there and I might even reward you.’

      She wanted to give him a hot answer, but her sense of desolation was suddenly such that she knew if she spoke she would burst into tears and that would never do. She felt another jerk on the rope.

      ‘You are supposed to be leading the way,’ he said.

      Rosamund darted him a poisonous look.

      ‘Forgive me if I appear overly cautious, Master Wood, but one has difficulty these days even trusting one’s friends,’ said Alex. That slight inflection was evident in his voice and once again Rosamund was oddly affected by it. ‘Now tell your horse to walk on,’ he added.

      Rosamund did so. Then she spent several seconds imagining the moment when he would get his comeuppance. Then the reality of her situation struck her and the corners of her mouth drooped. A mournful sigh escaped her.

      Alex gave her a sidelong glance and felt a stir of pity at the sight of such abject misery. Then he hardened his heart. Pity could have no place in his armoury. The youth had lied to him. He could be all that he had accused him of being, but Alex was prepared to risk that to discover if Harry and Ingrid were at Appleby Manor.

      They rode on in silence between high, bare hedgerows until they reached an open aspect. Suddenly Alex had a growing conviction that he had passed this way before. When he recognised the walls of Lathom ahead, he turned on his companion and pulled on the cord, causing Rosamund to almost tumble from the horse.

      ‘Do you take me for a fool, Master Wood?’ roared Alex. ‘This is not Appleby Manor, but Lathom House!’

      Rosamund managed to grab the pommel and heave herself back into the saddle. ‘You could have killed me!’ she cried.

      ‘But I didn’t,’ snapped Alex. ‘What jape is this you play? I left this place only a couple of hours ago.’

      His words took Rosamund utterly by surprise. ‘What were you doing at the Earl of Derby’s mansion?’

      ‘That is none of your business.’ His eyes flashed golden fire ‘Answer my question or I’ll cut your throat. ????? Why have you brought me here?’

      ‘I—I have no w-wish to return to A-Appleby Manor,’ she stuttered. ‘They would kill me.’

      Alex gazed into the delicate features and his anger abated. ‘Why? What wrong have you done?’

      Rosamund felt her ire rising again. ‘Why do you believe it is I who am in the wrong when I am fleeing for my life?’

      Alex frowned. ‘Because, Master Wood, I deem you are no woodcutter, which means you lied to me.’

      She felt sick with fear. ‘Wh-what evidence do you have to make such an accusation?’

      Alex smiled humourlessly. ‘Your stature is enough. It takes strength to chop down trees, Master Wood—you look more suited to needlepoint. Tell me, who is it you fear at Appleby Manor?’

      Rosamund had no intention of telling him. After all, he could be in the pay of her stepbrother, Edward Fustian, who had dealings in London with foreigners.

      ‘Why should I answer your question when you will not answer mine?’ she muttered.

      ‘Because I am the stronger, little bantam.’

      ‘You mean you would bully me like you have already done in order to have your own way,’ she said sullenly.

      He raised his tawny eyebrows. ‘I beg pardon if I have hurt you,’ he said in a mocking voice. ‘But if you do not wish to take me to Appleby Manor, then answer my questions.’

      ‘Will you let me go if I do?’

      ‘If I judge you are telling me the truth. Who dwells there?’

      Rosamund could see no harm in answering him. ‘The family is small and consists of Lady Monica Appleby and her son William. She has another son who lives in London.’

      This news was not what Alex had hoped to hear. ‘What of Sir James?’

      ‘Dead!’

      The news came as something of a shock.

      Rosamund saw that he paled beneath his tanned skin. ‘You knew Sir James?’ she asked.

      Alex pulled himself together. ‘I met him only the once.’

      ‘You seem very shocked by the news, sir.’

      ‘Indeed, I am. I had hoped to gain information from him. When did he die?’

      ‘Six months ago.’ Her expression was bleak.

      That news was a further shock. ‘I met him shortly before he died,’ said Alex. ‘He made no mention that he had two sons.’

      ‘That is because they are not his sons, but belong to his second wife, Lady Monica.’ Rosamund watched his expression alter and wondered what this information was that he had wanted from her father, but she did not see how she could be of help to him on that score. ‘Did you meet him in London?’

      ‘Aye, and that is where I must go now. I will risk showing you some trust. Are you able to guide me out of this palatine and set me on the road to that city? I will pay you to act as my guide.’

      She shook her head. ‘No! I can’t come with you. I have business at Lathom House.’

      Alex scowled. ‘So that is why you brought me here. I don’t care what your business is, you will guide me out of this backwater or you will be sorry.’

      Alarmed, she said, ‘I will do what you say if you answer me one question. Did you speak to Lady Elizabeth Stanley whilst you were at Lathom?’

      Alex’s suspicions were immediately roused. ‘Why do you ask, lad? What business do you have with the lady?’

      Rosamund

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