Free A Knight's Persuasion by Catherine Kean Page A

time to retrieve Mayda’s hidden jewels. Juliana would have to—
    Footfalls pounded on the stairs behind her.
    She reached the torch lit passage. Holding tight to crying Rosemary, she raced toward the wooden landing that led down into the great hall. Most of the castle folk would be asleep there; she’d weave through the rows of straw pallets, dash into the forebuilding, and down to the bailey. From there . . .
    Then what?
    “Juliana!” Landon roared, close behind.
    With an agonized gasp, she tried to run faster. Her lungs burned.
    Shouts and tramped footfalls carried from behind her—and the landing ahead.
    She was trapped.
    A sharp tug on her hair yanked her head back. Pain spread through her scalp, while the passageway’s ceiling became a blur. She stumbled, almost dropping Rosemary.
    “Got you,” Landon snarled.
    She screamed with all the breath left in her lungs. Landon slammed her back against the passage wall. Rosemary jounced in her arms, even as Juliana twisted against his bruising grip on her upper arms.
    “Let me go!” she choked.
    Rosemary’s gulping cries rang off the stone. Landon didn’t seem to notice or care.
    “Quiet.” Breathing hard, his grasp as tight as manacles, he glared down at Juliana. He smelled of drink, night air, and . . . danger. Juliana shuddered. Would he kill her now?
    “Do as I say.” Landon clearly expected her obedience.
    “Killer!” she cried. How she wanted to spit in his face! “Mayda loved you! How could you—?”
    Armed men crowded in from the landing. Not Landon’s men-at-arms, most of whom she knew by name, but mercenaries. Veronique’s hired thugs.
    Oh, God. Oh, God!
    “Lady de Greyne has gone mad,” Landon called, loudly enough for all to hear.
    “Liar! You—”
    “She means to harm the babe,” he cut in, drowning her voice with his own. “She—”
    Juliana threw her body’s weight to one side. He tightened his grip. She kicked and struggled.
    Behind her, metal rasped: the sound of a sword being drawn.
    Terror whipped through Juliana, a moment before Veronique sauntered out of the stairwell to block that way out. Crossing her arms, she smiled.
    “Someone help me!” Juliana sobbed. “Lady Ferchante was murdered. I saw! I swear—”
    Landon pulled her away from the wall. “Take her.”
    Two of the mercenaries grabbed her arms, restrained her, as Landon stepped away.
    “Give me a sword,” Landon commanded.
    She was going to die! “Please, listen!” Juliana shrieked. “He—”
    His lips drawn back from his teeth, Landon raised the blade. One swift slash, and she’d be dead. So, most likely, would Rosemary. Sobbing, Juliana cradled the baby tighter.
    A curse broke from Landon. Daring to glance up, she saw him standing as though frozen, his sword ready for its killing strike.
    For an instant, their gazes met. In his eyes, she saw remorse.
    “Please,” she whispered. “Landon, I beg you—”
    “Turn her around,” he growled. She tried to struggle, but the thugs spun her so her back faced Landon.
    Whack! Stunning pain crashed through the back of Juliana’s head. Her teeth cracked together, while her upper body jolted forward. Do not . . . drop Rosemary , Juliana told herself through the blinding agony.
    Oh, God. So . . . dizzy.
    She couldn’t stand up . . . any longer.
    Juliana’s legs wobbled. The passageway floor swirled into a muddy blend of grays and browns.
    Mayda, I am sorry. So sorry .
    The cloying tang of rosewater stung her nostrils. Veronique . Juliana tried to open her mouth, to speak, but her jaw refused to work. She could only groan as Veronique pulled Rosemary from her arms. “Kill her,” Veronique muttered, shoving the wailing baby at a mercenary.
    Mayda, I am sorry . . .
    Juliana collapsed to her knees. Head . . . spinning. Men . . . still holding her arms. She fought to lift her head.
    Fight. Save Rosemary , her mind screamed, even as the agonizing pain sapped the strength from her limbs.
    Her groggy mind barely