Free Betrayed by Claire Robyns Page A

mark? For a man supposedly shaped by the land, I’d not expect your natural instincts to be this blunted.”
    His grip on her arm tightened. “Ye have a clever tongue, Amber, I’ll give ye that. But might I suggest ye learn to recognise defeat?”
    “I’ll know it when I see it,” she retorted. “In your eyes.”
    Laughing his contempt, he pushed her down onto a rough bench, causing a stir as two men shifted to make room for her at the crowded table. When she checked over her shoulder, Krayne was gone. She cast a narrowed glance over the sea of heads and saw him take a seat at a table all the way across the hall.
    He caught her eye and stared at her until Amber turned forward to the trenchers of warm bread, cheese and cold meats.
    “Allow me,” came a voice to her left.
    The man seated there held out a piece of meat spiked on his dirk.
    With a decisive shrug, she cast off her scowl and smiled sweetly. “Thank you.”
    The food was excellent, the meat well spiced and the bread freshly baked.
    “Ye be young Stivin’s friend?”
    She returned her gaze to the orange-bearded man. He was of middle years, and had the broadest shoulders and a short neck. Despite the beard that seemed at odds with the yellow of his hair, he was not unattractive. “I’ve not known Stivin long, but he has a gentle nature that is easy to love.”
    His head bent her way, a half-chewed bone resting on his lower lip as he spoke, “Yer taken with the lad, then.”
    “Oh, no, nothing like that.”
    But hadn’t she contemplated a betrothal only two days before? It felt like a lifetime ago. And maybe it was. A fire had been lit inside her between then and now, a glimpse of what could be between a man and a woman.
    What should be between a wife and husband.
    If this unwanted desire that Krayne had stroked in her was good for one thing, it was that she now understood that Stivin deserved more from a wife than she could ever give him. “I could never do that to Stivin.”
    The bemused chuckle caught her off guard, and she realised she’d spoken aloud.
    “Ah, lass. Ye’re nae a hardship ta be endured, I assure ye. A mon could be that lucky.” His gaze rested on her for a long moment before he went back to his food with renewed interest.
    Amber disagreed. Stivin deserved someone who’d melt at his kisses, as she did at…She tossed her head back indignantly. What nonsense. Krayne had never kissed her.
    “Yer no eating. Forgive my hasty tongue, lass, I wouldna put ye off yer food.”
    “Please, you’ve nothing to apologise for,” Amber told him with a quick smile. “I assure you that I’m ravenous.”
    To prove it, she took a large bite of the cold pork, ripping the tender flesh from the bone with dainty teeth. She was hungry and she needed her strength if she were to attempt another escape. A plan would be nice as well, she thought, and mayhap a miracle or two. She continued the meal in silence, listening to snatches of the many conversations around her, all the while primed for the hand on her shoulder that would lead her back to her prison. It didn’t come.
    Each time she looked up, it was to catch a set of eyes from one or another of the men sitting across from her quickly dropping away. The hall gradually emptied as the men went back to their duties.
    Her unintentional eavesdropping had bought her vital information. The barmekin wall on the east side was being repaired, requiring many hands that would be taken from men usually deployed inside the bailey. There was also a training session planned in a field beyond the outer walls, which meant the portcullis would remain open.
    Amber glanced casually about. The serving women were now collecting empty trenchers and ale pitchers. She was relieved to see Krayne had left. Two men stood just inside the archway leading to the stairs, heads bowed in serious talk. A lone man standing at the next table downed ale straight from a pitcher, then strode toward the castle door. Two women were still