and her muscles screamed at the very thought of it. Maybe she’d just stay where she was. If she got down, she’d simply have to get up on this instrument of torture once more, and that was one thing she wasn’t certain she could do.
Maybe Brother Matthew could help. She turned, but he’d slipped away without a sound. And there was no mistaking who was advancing on her, tall and dark and oddly menacing.
No, there was nothing odd about his menace, she corrected herself. Prince William was a danger to all women. And all the predawn trips to the chapel and penitential journeys wouldn’t change that. Not if you looked into his eyes.
Brother Adrian accompanied him, and when Prince William slid off his horse with effortless grace he tossed the reins to the young friar and advanced upon Elizabeth. The horse skittered back, feeling her nervousness.
He reached out and caught the reins, putting his hand on the neck of her mount, soothing her with only a touch—an unspoken communication that made Elizabeth even more nervous. He must truly be an instrument of the Devil. She firmly believed that animals had better instincts than humans did, and yet her horse trusted him. If he could trick animals he could deceive anyone.
“Time to dismount, Lady Elizabeth,” he said. “If you stay too long in the saddle, you’ll stiffen up.”
Too late, she thought miserably. “I’m fine, thank you,” she said. “My lord,” she added hastily.
Her skirts were brushing against the fine wool of his cloak, and she could feel the warmth of his body, even through all those layers of clothing. She should have felt stronger, more powerful, looking down at him from her high perch. She didn’t.
“Get down, Elizabeth.” It was an order. No one was around except Brother Adrian, and he was trying his best to pretend he couldn’t hear their conversation.
If she tried, she’d fall at his feet. And she wouldn’t do that for any man. She looked down at him, wondering if a plain “no” would do any good. She had grave misgivings that it would.
“I don’t want to.”
“Get down.”
“I can’t!” she said finally. “If I try to climb down off this wretched animal I’ll fall on my face, and then there’ll be no way you can possibly get me back on her. I’m better off just staying here until we stop for the night….” The words trailed off in a whoosh, as he put his hands around her waist and lifted her down off the horse.
She was right, there was no strength in her legs. But he was holding her with just the power of his strong hands, so that she wouldn’t collapse, and slowly the trembling in her knees stopped and she could stand on her own. If only she could stop the rest of her body from shaking.
“She’s not a wretched animal. She’s a very fine horse, and you know it as well as I do,” the prince said in a mild voice that should have reassured her.
“You can let go of me now.”
“I don’t want to.” She wasn’t certain if she heard him clearly, since he released her even as he spoke and took a step back. She grabbed the horse’s reins for additional support, and ran her hand down her neck in apology before she realized she was touching her just as the prince had touched her. She pulled her hand away hastily.
“No, she’s not a wretched animal,” she agreed. “I’m just a bit…unused to riding for such a long period.”
“Indeed.” He nodded his head toward a stretch of woods. “You can go over there.”
“Why?”
“To relieve yourself,” he said bluntly. “Unless you’ve managed to control your bodily functions as well as you control your father’s household, you should be in need, and I doubt you want to join the men.”
She could feel a blush suffuse her face. Now that he mentioned it, she did need some privacy. “You could have put it more delicately,” she snapped. And then remembered to add “my lord” in a meek tone.
“You don’t strike me as particularly delicate, Lady Elizabeth.” He took the reins from her. “Go ahead.”
She’d overestimated her strength. She was fine standing still, but the moment she tried to take a step forward her knees began to buckle.
And the moment they did, his hand came under her arm, keeping her from falling.
He was closer now, much too close, as he had been the night before. “I beg pardon,” she said breathlessly. “I’ll be fine in just a moment.”
“Do you want me to carry you?”
“No!” The thought of the dark prince carrying her into the secluded woods was beyond unsettling. “I’m fine.” To prove it she pulled free from him and took a step forward.
Her body obeyed her. She managed a cool smile and headed for the patch of woods designated for her use, moving with all the grace she could muster.
Until she was out of sight, when she hobbled, groaning and moaning into the bushes.
She would have liked nothing more than to curl up in a ball and stay there, but she knew it was out of the question. If she tried it, he’d send his men after her. Or even worse, come and find her himself.
She had no choice in the matter. At least the day was more than half over. If she could just get herself onto the back of that horse one more time she’d survive the first day. Barely.
They were already mounted when she emerged from the woods. All of them, sitting on their horses, watching as she slowly made her way into the clearing.
She straightened her spine and approached the horse. No mounting block this time, and Prince William was on his own charger, holding the reins, watching her.
She never cried, and she wasn’t about to start now. Maybe if she managed to get her foot into the stirrup she could haul herself up that high…
“Give me your hand.” Prince William’s voice was peremptory. He was next to her horse, and she couldn’t quite see how he was going to get her on it from his high vantage point, but she held up her hand, anyway, blindly obedient.
It was a grave mistake. He pulled her up, effortlessly, and plopped her down in front of him.
His horse startled nervously at the added weight, but there was no question that the dark prince was an excellent rider, controlling him with seemingly no effort.
Controlling her, and she didn’t like it. Before she could squirm, protest, slide down, he’d moved forward, fast, the horse leaping ahead with restrained energy. The others followed, and any protest Elizabeth could have made was drowned out by the noise of the hooves on the dry road.
And the panicked racing of her heart.
3
This was not good, Adrian thought, keeping his head down to hide his doubts. There were few things he trusted in this chaotic life, but the strength and purity of Brother Peter’s vocation was one of them. He knew little of the details, only that something in Peter’s past made his need to atone all-consuming. It made no sense
