Free His Captive Lady by Carol Townend Page A

breath and repeated her questions. 'Last night was truly for nothing, then?'
    Hrothgar's smile widened. 'Quick, aren't you?'
    'And you knew this, last night?'
    At Hrothgar's shrug, she rounded on Wulf. 'And you, what about you? Did you know Thane Guthlac had no intention of honouring our agreement?'
    The blue eyes were fastened on Hrothgar, but he answered readily enough. 'I did not know, my lady, but since it has happened, I cannot say I am surprised.'
    Staring at his profile as he watched Hrothgar, Erica wished she could believe him. Last night she had thought Wulf honourable. Last night she had thought to end the feud that had blighted her family and Guthlac's for generations. Last night, she acknowledged, she had been a hen-witted fool.
    Dragging her cloak from the guard-rail, she flung it on. 'Very well. I shall leave,' she said, making her voice as cold as the wind that blew across the fens.
    Hrothgar's eyes were equally cold as, slowly, he shook his head. 'Leave? I do not think so.'
    Erica clenched her jaw; her cheeks were hot despite the frost in the air.
    'I am come to escort you to the lock-up. Count your blessings, my lady, you are about to join your men.'
    Stunned at Hrothgar's--at Guthlac's--perfidy, Erica's feet would not move. 'If I am Thane Guthlac's prisoner,' she managed, 'he is utterly without honour.'
    Hrothgar simply stared.
    This could not be happening, Erica thought wildly, she could not be held here. If she became Guthlac's prisoner, who would see that Morcar was cared for? And what about Solveig? And Hrolf? 'No, no, I have to return, my people need me!' They needed Ailric and Hereward, too. Without their boldest warriors, her diminished household would not survive the winter. Not when her father's other housecarls were hiding out deep in the fens...
    'You should have thought of that before you came visiting. Now you must await my lord's pleasure.'
    Hrothgar made to take her arm, but Wulf got there first. ' I will escort the Lady Erica.'
    In a daze, Erica felt firm fingers on her arm, as Wulf led her to the top of the stairs. She looked over her shoulder at Hrothgar. 'My people will not forget this,' she said, trembling with rage.
    'Doubtless, they will not. Oh, and, my lady, one further point...'
    Erica raised a brow.
    'While you are waiting on Thane Guthlac's pleasure, think on this. Your father's death has done you no favours. Your position as leader of his men is untenable. Guthlac bids me ask you what lord worthy of the name would permit a woman to dictate terms to him? Think on that, my lady, before you question my lord's honour. Think on that while Thane Guthlac decides your fate.'
    Choking down her fury, Erica turned away before she struck him. At the top step she gathered up her skirts and reached for the handrail. Wulf's touch on her elbow was steadying, but she only acknowledged him when they had gained the yard. 'My men?' she asked, in as haughty a tone as she could muster.
    'In here, my lady.'
    The prison hut was indeed the one next to the chapel.
    And the chapel was barely a yard away.
    One short yard , Erica thought, her heartbeat speeding up. Wulf was not looking at her, he was nodding at the two guards by the prison hut, gesturing at them to unbar the door.
    Her mind raced. One short yard to the chapel. She could claim sanctuary in the chapel! One yard. Her heart thudded. She held back until Wulf had relaxed his grip on her arm and was waving her into the prison hut.
    Quick as lightning, she whirled on her heel and darted in the opposite direction, into the chapel. Two candles burned on the altar, either side of a silver cross. The faint smell of incense lingered in the air, but there was no time to register more. Erica pelted up to the altar, skirting the priest. She glimpsed a gaping jaw and goggling eyes and dodged behind the altar table, chest heaving.
    Wide shoulders filled the doorway. Wulf. He strode past the priest, boots loud on the beaten earth floor. Lean warrior's fingers