Free To the Lady Born by Kathryn Le Veque Page A

a prisoner?”
    Weston’s dark blue eyes glittered at her. “A guest,” he said quietly. “To me, you are a guest, my lady.  Nothing more, nothing less.”
    “Can I leave if I wish it?”
    He nodded. “I will not stop you. Do you have some place else you wish to go?”
    Amalie was surprised by his answer; she hadn’t expected it in the least. “I… I suppose I could go to my mother.”
    “Where is your mother?”
    “She has her own properties in east Essex. I have not seen her in years.”
    “Why not?”
    She sighed faintly. “Because my mother does not acknowledge that she bore a daughter,” she said, shrugging. “She has only ever acknowledged my brother as if he is an only child.  I was sent to foster when I was three years old, returning to Hedingham two years ago. I am not entirely sure my brother wanted me here but he could not refuse my mother. She did not want me to live with her so she sent me to him. I am the child and sister that no one wants to be burdened with, apparently.”
    It seemed like a sad tale, Weston thought, but he didn’t comment.  He was coming to feel more and more pity for the woman who had not known much kindness in life.  In a sense, he felt akin to her because their family ties were much the same; parents they did not bond with, general unhappiness, and then the added insult of an attack by a man who was supposed to show her respect based simply on the chivalric code.   Weston’s mood dampened, thinking of her story that seemed to grow darker by the moment.
    Before he could reply, however, the sounds of horses and men suddenly distracted him and he turned to see several armed men on horseback escorting an expensive carriage.
    And it was heading right for them.
     

 
     
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER SIX
                 
    The soldiers escorting the carriage were well-armed and clad in expensive tunics bearing colors of green and yellow.   There was a well-dressed knight in the lead, snapping orders to the driver of the carriage to plot a smooth path through the road that was in impossible shape.  The driver did his best but the carriage lurched and jerked through the mud. 
    Weston reached out to pull Amalie out of the road but she seemed distracted by the sight of the carriage. When she didn’t move fast enough, he tugged on her arm and quickly moved her to the edge of the street. She fussed at him but he ignored her, more concerned with the heavily armed men now making their way down the street. 
    Weston was armed but, for Amalie’s sake, he didn’t want to get into any manner of conflict. He wasn’t sure, given her fragile mental state, that she would take it well.  More than that, it would be just him against several armed men. As good as he was, the odds were not in his favor.
    The big chargers splashed in the mud, causing Amalie to jump back to avoid being hit by the frigid goop.  But she was waving at the carriage and a dark head suddenly popped out from one of the windows along with a gloved hand.  Someone in the carriage was waving back.
    “Amalie!” came a cry and the door suddenly jerked open.  A dark-haired young woman appeared, smiling brightly.  She waved again as she began to climb out of the cab that was still moving. “It has been too long, darling! I have missed you!”
    Realizing that her driver was not stopping, the young woman snapped at him and the carriage came to an unsteady halt.  The woman edged her way onto the muddied avenue and in Amalie’s direction. She and Amalie came together near the edge of the road, hugging one another happily. 
    “What brings you to Hedingham?” Amalie asked. “You are far from your home.”
    The woman shrugged; she was rather plain in appearance, colorless in spite of the dark hair and light eyes.  She was also rather tall for a woman, with gangly long arms, and she wore expensive clothing. Given the new carriage and host of well-dressed soldiers, it was apparent that she came from