Free Stuart, Elizabeth by Where Love Dwells Page A

for his hostages. A sick feeling
settled in her gut. He would kill them. What else could she expect from the
Wolf of Kent?
    As
her guard tried to lift her onto a nearby horse, she twisted away. She couldn't
just turn her back and ride out. Not without knowing what would happen to the
women and children, the wounded men left behind.
    "Now
see here... none'a that!" the man exclaimed, jerking her roughly back
toward the horse. Catching her about the waist, he swung her up toward the
saddle, but she twisted in his arms, catching him in the groin with a
well-placed kick.
    With
a violent oath, the man released her, dropping forward on all fours. Elen
turned, searching desperately for the dark, compassionate face of the knight
who'd helped her before. She hadn't taken two steps in his direction when the
guard behind her set up a cry of alarm.
    Richard
glanced up from the instructions he was giving his knights. "God's mercy,
what now?"
    Seeing
the chestnut-haired virago moving purposefully toward the wounded prisoners, he
uttered an impatient oath and sprinted forward into her path. "What now?
Do you think to arm them all against us?" he asked irritably.
    Elen
halted abruptly as Richard stepped before her. Staring up into his furious
face, she searched for something, anything to turn him from his purpose. In the
full light of morning, she could see his hair was the rich golden color of
ripened wheat, and his eyes were incredibly green. Against the tanned skin of
his lean face, his eyes gleamed the brilliant color of new spring grass.
    Her
own eyes widened in surprise. He wasn't what she had expected. He looked too
young for so noted a commander, probably considerably less than one score and
ten. And even in a rage he hadn't the look of a man who enjoyed killing. Yet
his battle exploits were legend, and appearances were oft deceiving.
    Turning
from his angry glare, she gestured to the wounded men seated or lying about
beneath a tall oak. "What will you do with them?" she asked in
perfect French.
    Richard
bit back the sharp order he was about to snap out. So the girl did speak the
language. He wouldn't need Giles to communicate with her after all. The thought
was oddly pleasing.
    His
gaze followed hers, lingering on the prisoners. At his studied silence, she
turned, lifting cool blue eyes to his. "I am sound of limb and have
traveled many weary miles before this. I can walk. Give my mount to two of
these who can't."
    Richard's
impatient anger melted away. The girl obviously thought he meant to kill his
prisoners and was offering her mount to save whom she might. He had seen
English knights who would not do the like for their own wounded men. Her words
reawakened a grudging respect. "There's no need," he said.
"These men will not be harmed."
    A
flash of anger kindled in her eyes, bringing an enhancing flush of color to her
pale cheeks. "I'm no fool, sir!" she hissed. "Do you think to
lead us all meekly away, then slay these men when none are by to see?"
    Richard
lifted one tawny eyebrow. "I think," he murmured provocatively,
"that you have little choice in the matter."
    Contempt
flickered openly in her blue eyes. "Then the tales we've heard are true.
You're no better than the animal for which you're named." She hesitated,
her expressive eyes narrowing coldly. "But even wolves don't kill the
helpless for sport."
    Her
contemptuous words touched him on the raw. His heavy lids dropped down, quickly
hiding his irritation. "Perhaps not. But then perhaps you wish to save a
man or two among them from the maw of the Wolf?"
    "At
what cost?" she asked, her chin lifting a fraction.
    "Oh,
a piece of information well and truly given."
    For
a moment they studied each other in strained silence. The girl looked as
pinched and weary as he felt, Richard realized suddenly. Only her eyes were
alert and watchful, clear blue as the restless western sea above the smudges of
exhaustion beneath them.
    "And
what is this information you seek?" she asked at