Free Defy Not the Heart by Johanna Lindsey Page A

have gone your own way at any time,” Ranulf reminded him.
    “And leave you with no one to yell at save those young-uns you adopted?”
    “Coxcomb,” Ranulf snorted, but with a softening at the corners of his mouth. “Begone and leave me in peace. And make my excuses to the lady, for I will not join you for the evening meal. Tell her I have not slept for two days and you are loath to wake me. The less I see of her the better.”
    Walter chuckled. “Annoyed you, did she?”
    “You do not know the half of it.”
    “Would you rather I collect her when it is time?”
    “Nay, trussing her up is the only pleasure I will have of this job,” Ranulf replied.

Chapter Ten
    I t was a piece of work, getting from one end of the hall to the other without waking any of the castlefolk bedded down there or alerting the few sentries passing the open arches of the gallery that looked down on the hall. The second time Kenric stumbled over someone’s feet in the dark, Ranulf picked him up and toted him under his arm the rest of the way to the stairwell.
    “S’wounds, if we had a candle—”
    “We would be easier seen,” Ranulf growled low.
    He set the boy down to traverse the narrow stairs and they lucked onto a wall torch at the top, which Kenric borrowed to light the long passageway.
    “Is this it, then?” the boy whispered when they reached the door at the end.
    “If Walter’s wench did not misguide him. And block the light when I open the door. I do not want the lady waking ere I reach her.”
    The door was not locked, but it was blocked by a pallet spread on the floor in front of it. Ranulf closed the door again and swore under his breath.
    “What is wrong?” Kenric asked.
    “One of her maids sleeps in front of the door. You will have to squeeze through the crack and see to it she continues to sleep.”
    Kenric’s eyes widened to great turquoise circles. “You want me to kill her?”
    “ Sleeps , lackwit, not ‘never wakes up.’ A light tap on the head with your dagger hilt should do it nicely. Just be quiet about it.”
    Kenric set the torch in the wall bracket beside the door before he slipped through. In half a minute he was back and opening the door wide.
    “’Twas not a she, but a he,” Kenric whispered, his surprise still evident. “That boy—”
    “I can guess who,” Ranulf replied in disgust. “Just bring the restraints. We will see to the lady first; then you can tie up her ‘guard.’”
    “’Tis done.” At Ranulf’s raised brow, Kenric amended with a grin, “Just his hands. You said to be quick.”
    Ranulf grunted. “So I did. Let us have this over with, then.”
    With the door left open, torchlight spilled a few feet into the room, but only dimly lit the rest of the area. However, it was enough light for what they had to do.
    The chamber was not large, though not too small either. It was in feet nearly identical with the one Ranulf had been given for his use. Theo was slumped beside the door where Kenric had shoved him. The bed sat in the center of one wall, the curtains closed about it. A number of items cluttered the room, several tables and stools, a wooden chest at the foot of the bed, a large brazier where a fire had burned earlier, needed even for this wanner weather of late spring.
    Carefully, Ranulf drew back the curtains on the bed just enough to lean inside. She was there, no more than a tiny mound beneath her covers, topped by the raven locks spread across her pillow. It was she. Evenin the darker gloom inside the enclosed space, he could see the whiteness of her small, piquant face, the dark slanting brows, that full lower lip forming a pout as she slept.
    For a moment he hesitated. Once she woke to see him in her chamber, there would be no turning back. She would belong to Rothwell, for better or worse. And he knew it would only be for worse. But he would then have Farring Cross, his own land, earned by his own labor, not given to him, as his younger half brother had come by