Free Borderland Betrayal by Samantha Holt Page A

someone.
    But not him.
    Hell, he hated the thought of her being a wife to someone else, though. A man with lesser responsibilities might happily marry her. But how could he? He was expected to expand his lands, increase his wealth, and gain more influence in England. His father had even hoped for him to gain connections to royalty, though he doubted that was likely, and he hardly relished the thought. With politics the way they were, anyone caught in the middle of it all risked death.
    Why did he even think of marriage anyway? It was not as if Ellise had shown any intention of wanting him to court her. Aside from that one kiss, it seemed as though she tried to avoid him, and her reticence should have been enough to dissuade any notions of… of anything between them. She certainly was a mystery.
    The clatter of hooves across the drawbridge drew him from his thoughts as they moved through the shadows of the gatehouse into the bailey. James quickly dismounted and threw his reins into the hands of a stable boy before helping Ellise down. She sagged against him, weariness stamped on her features and he kept an arm around her as she rested most of her weight on him.
    “Forgive me,” she murmured.
    He ignored her apology and concentrated on getting her to her chamber. With encouraging words from him, they climbed the spiral staircase. Her breaths came heavily by the time they reached the top.
    “God’s blood, I should have carried you,” he muttered but she made a sound of complaint as he tried to force her into his hold and he had to content himself with allowing her to rest against him once more.
    After he shoved the door open, she flopped onto the bed and closed her eyes. James grimaced as he noted the red soaked linen around her hand. With no white visible, he concluded she had lost a lot of blood. He’d seen before how people had died after a severe blood-letting and had little intention of allowing Ellise to meet the same fate.
    She remained motionless but as he turned on his heel to fetch the physician she called out to him, her voice tremulous, “I-I have some cream. For infection. ‘Twill clean the wound.”
    “I need to get the physician.”
    “Nay,” she protested breathily. “There’s no need. Just the cream. And some thread and a needle.”
    James clenched his hand around the door handle and considered her. “You’ll not be able to stitch it yourself.”
    “You can do it.”
    He stared at his hand, his knuckles white. “I cannot. My hands are too big. I’ll fetch Winnie.”
    “Nay! ¡Por favor! Pray, I do not wish to be a bother. I feel a fool enough already.”
    Releasing the handle, he blew out a breath. “Aye, as you will. I’ll be but a moment.”
    She didn’t respond as he left and he wondered if he should even leave her alone. With torturous thoughts in his mind, he stormed down the stone steps of the tower and marched across the bailey to the armoury. A few medical supplies were kept there, considering weapons practice was when they were all most likely to be injured.
    Pushing past a guardsman with a grunt, he yanked open a drawer in the supplies chest and dug out a needle and thread as well as more linen strips. He wasted no time in hurrying back to Ellise, his heart beating a tattoo in his chest.
    Ashen skin and closed eyes greeted him and he threw down his supplies on the carved side table next to the bed, sending a candle toppling. Bile welled in his throat as he flattened the back of his hand against her forehead. Her skin was clammy. 
    He should never have left her alone. “Hell’s teeth!”
    Her lids jolted open and a dark, clear gaze met his.
    “What is it?” she whispered.
    He dropped to the floor beside the bed and gripped her uninjured hand in his own slightly trembling ones. “Dear Lord, I thought I’d lost you.”
    “Lost me?” A faint smile stretched across her lips. “James, I was merely resting.”
    With an inward groan, he forced himself back to his feet as heat