Free Ransom My Heart by Meg Cabot Page A

the dagger, and Peter nearly fell over himself in his haste to comply with her wishes.
    Finnula never stirred from Hugo’s back until the lad was well away, and the last sounds of his horse’s hooves could no longer be heard above the roar of the waterfall. Then she withdrew her arm from Hugo’s throat, but did not come around to face him.
    He heard a sigh, and turning his head, saw that she had sunk down to rest upon the rocky shelf upon which he’d lain, observing her. Her elbows on her knees, her face resting in her hands, she huddled there, cloaked in her thick mane of auburn hair, no longer the spirited Diana who’d trussed him like a calf, but a small, defenseless maiden who had been taxed beyond her strength in the last few minutes.
    Hugo, still kneeling with his hands bound behind his back, began to have misgivings about the entire situation. Damn that boy! He would never forgive him for scrambling the girl’s brains so, and would see him duly punished when he finally reached Stephensgate Manor.
    â€œDoes aught ail you, Mistress Crais?” he asked gently. “Is there naught I can do for you?”
    She looked up, her face pinched with pain. “’Tis nothing,” she said stoutly, like a child too proud to share her hurts. “It will pass.”
    Hugo knew then that she was badly injured. So stubborn a girl would never admit to pain were it not of the worst kind. “Show me,” he said.
    â€œNo.” She shook her head firmly, the red hair bouncing wildly around her slim shoulders. “I told you, ’tis nothing. Come, wemust move on in order to be at our destination by dark. ’Tis not safe to roam these hills after sunset—”
    She started to get up, but pain creased her lovely visage, and Hugo lost all patience, and bellowed at her in the same manner he’d chastised his squire.
    â€œFoolish girl, you’re hurt. Unbind me and let me examine your wounds. I will not slip away from you, not when you have captured me in all fairness. I will play your game until the end, bound or unbound. Now, loose me!”
    She snapped back at him, for all the world as if she were his wife of long standing. “Don’t bellow at me! I am not your serf, that you can tell me what to do. ’Tis I that does the bellowing round here, not you !”
    Taken aback by her considerable spirit, Hugo blinked. Never before had he encountered a woman so completely unmoved by his ire. He realized that she was immune to fear of him, and cast about helplessly, wondering how to proceed. Never had he dealt with so contrary a lass. There was no use trying to intimidate her, much less seduce her. Would she respond to logic?
    None too patiently, Hugo snapped, “Around my neck you’ll find a silken cord. Pull it out.”
    She stared at him round-eyed, as if he had taken leave of his senses. “I’ll do nothing of the kind.”
    â€œPull it out, I tell you. Upon it hangs an uncut gem of far more worth than any ransom, given to me by a daughter of the Sultan of Egypt.”
    â€œAnd tainted with some foul foreign poison, no doubt, with which you hope to kill me,” she sniffed.
    â€œAre you as stupid as that sniveling squire of mine? It will do nothing of the sort. Pull it out, I say!”
    Seeing that she hesitated still, regarding him as suspiciously asif he were the ferret-faced Dick, he roared, so thunderously that his mount reared behind them, “Do it!”
    â€œDon’t tell me,” she roared back, every bit as loudly, “what to do! If you don’t stop bellowing at me, I’ll gag you!”
    Hugo was so angry, he thought he might burst his bonds through sheer frustration alone. Then, just when he thought he might do himself—not to mention the intractable young miss who’d captured him—a harm, she rose from her seat with a painful wince, stalked toward him, and did as he bid, plucking from beneath his shirt