Free Of Noble Birth by Brenda Novak

from what sounded like a crowded tavern,
but the pungent smell of tobacco smoke was the last thing she
remembered.
    * * *
    Nathaniel felt Anne go
limp in his arms. Was this some kind of trick? His sister was more
of a fighter than he ever dreamed she would be, especially after
having been raised with everything she could ever want. He had
expected Anne to prove herself a simpering female, duly frightened
of him and his men. But this woman was strong and resourceful. Or
she was used to manipulating others to achieve her own ends. He
couldn’t decide which.
    He shook her, attempting
to elicit some response.
    Anne’s head lolled on his
shoulder.
    Nathaniel began to worry
that something might really be wrong. Scaling the stairs as quickly
as possible, he flung back the door to their room and laid her on
the bed. Then he removed the hood and the gag.
    She was unconscious.
Nathaniel stared down at her, feeling a twinge of guilt at having
abducted a completely innocent woman. His half sister was not to
blame for the way his father had treated him, but Nathaniel could
figure no better way to obtain Richard’s release. And his friend
had to come first.
    With his stiletto,
Nathaniel cut the ropes that bound her wrists and ankles. Then he
began to massage her hands and feet, trying to improve the blood
flow. He had heard much about his sister’s beauty. Looking at her
now, he had to admit that the reports fell far short of reality.
Silky strands of long golden hair, loosened from her coiffure,
gleamed around a delicate oval face. Thick lashes rested on her
cheeks. She had a small, pert nose and a full, sensual mouth.
Nathaniel couldn’t help but remember the feel of her soft lips
beneath his own. That he’d actually enjoyed the sensation greatly
bothered him.
    He had to be careful, or
he would become as weak willed as Trenton and Tiny. Though he had
never seen Anne before, she was his half sister. She and a son had
been born to the duke and his second wife after the death of
Nathaniel’s own mother, and anything so closely connected to
Greystone was—had to be—anathema to him.
    Nathaniel dropped Anne’s
hand when her eyes fluttered open.
    “Where am I?” she asked,
then groaned when she saw him. “I hoped you were just another bad
dream. But dreams don’t taste like blood, do they?”
    “No.” Nathaniel turned as
a knock resounded at the door. “That’s our supper. You’re hungry,
no doubt.”
    Anne rubbed her temples as
though trying to relieve a headache. “Among other things,” she said
dryly. “Providing meals must be one of the problems associated with
abducting people.”
    Nathaniel paused to look
back at her. “Keeping them sane is another. That hood makes you a
little crazy.”
    “I wasn’t afraid of the
dark before...”
    “Before what?”
    “Before Willy.”
    The knock came again.
Nathaniel crossed the room to answer it. “Who’s Willy?” he asked,
his hand on the knob.
    Anne sighed. “You wouldn’t
believe me if I told you.”
    * * *
    Supper consisted of
poached salmon, jacket potatoes, cut greens, leg of mutton, and
several dishes Alexandra didn’t recognize. She ate ravenously. She
had seldom experienced such sumptuous fare and had no intention of
letting any of it go to waste, despite her
circumstances.
    The food seemed to appeal
to Nathaniel less. He sat back and watched her, occasionally
tipping a glass of wine to his lips.
    “Do you always eat so
voraciously?” he asked in amazement when Alexandra ladled seconds
onto her plate. “Or is it your strategy to break me before your
father can send for you?”
    She glanced up to see a
smile play at the corners of his mouth.
    “I haven’t had a bite to
eat all day,” she complained. “Besides, food takes my mind off the
pain in my hands and feet. They ache terribly, you
know.”
    His brows lifted. “Yes,
you look as though you’re in a great deal of pain.”
    “I am,” Alexandra cried
indignantly. “You and your men are brutes to