Free THE WARLORD by Elizabeth Elliott

rather than a true whip that would be capable of slicing through any gown. As it was, he'd only drawn blood on a few lashes, and those not too deep. The long ride had done little to help the healing process, but in another fortnight or so the welts would fade. Though she'd left her sickbed only a week before her escape, she was growing accustomed to the dull pain, aware that it faded some each day.
    She wondered if she could escape her husband before he discovered her injuries. He'd tasted enough of her temper to know she'd courted the beating. Not that she'd accused Gordon of anything but the truth. The man was a catamite and everyone in the MacLeith clan knew of his preference for males in his bed. She was just the first to accuse Gordon to his face. And in front of his soldiers, no less. Aye, she'd asked for the beating. But how could she have known she'd have a husband so soon? A husband sure to see her naked sooner or later. She had to figure out a way to make it later. Much later.
    " 'Tis time to ride," Kenric announced.
    Tess nearly jumped out of her skin. Her husband was standing right behind her.
    "I did not intend to startle you," he said in a quieter voice. "Didn't you hear me enter?"
    "Shadows have been known to make more noise, milord." She turned to face Kenric, feeling recovered from the surprise. The sight of him made her rethink that notion. Why, he'd grown quite handsome over the night! She stared openly at his face, wondering how she'd ever thought him akin to the Devil. The color of his eyes was much too soft for a Devil, the chiseled lines of his face far too pleasing. His bemused smile was heavenly.
    "Is something wrong?"
    "Wrong?" she repeated dumbly.
    "You've a most peculiar look on your face."
    "Oh." Tess made herself look away from the tall warlord, a difficult task since he took up so much of the tent. She stumbled for a quick explanation. "Perhaps I always look peculiar in the morning."
    Tess groaned inwardly as soon as the words left her mouth.
Perhaps I am the most dull-witted woman alive
, she added to herself.
    "I hope so." Kenric grinned. "That look somehow reminds me of the lie you told Father Olwen."
    "I believe I am ready to depart," Tess announced in a clipped voice, a blatant attempt to change the subject.
    Kenric picked up Tess's cloak and draped it around her shoulders, missing her wince of pain. He pulled the hood up to protect her from the cold. " 'Tis colder today. Let us hope we don't get snowed on before we sight Montague."
    Kenric hoped in vain. The snow started less than an hour into their journey. Fluffy white flakes drifted in lazy circles from the sky before the winds picked up and the soft flakes turned into hard, driven pellets. Tess was covered under two warm layers of cloaks but she worried for Kenric and his men. The soldiers donned fur caps and those who owned them wore gloves, but they were surely miserable. She was the best protected yet she seemed plagued by chills that set her teeth to chattering, only to become warm, almost hot, each time the bout of chills passed.
    A fever, she finally realized with a shudder. Please God, let it be a mild one, she prayed. Fevers were feared by rich and poor alike. Though most were not fatal, one could never tell until it was too late. She slipped her arms around Kenric's waist and decided God would not be so cruel.
    Kenric shifted Tess in his arms, feeling much like a well-used bed. He couldn't blame her for using sleep to escape the dull ride and harsh weather, but as the day grew longer, he began to wonder how anyone could sleep so much. At least she'd be well rested, he thought with a grin. She would need her strength for the evening he had planned.
    The weather broke near noon and Kenric was relieved to discover the snow had scarcely touched the road ahead. They made good time in the afternoon and were within sight of his castle when the dying sun broke through the lingering gray clouds.
    Kenric drew his cloak back and spoke