Free Lord of Vengeance by Adrian Lara Page B

snapped, recognizing Raina's slipper wagging in the knight's pudgy hand. Several angry strides and Nigel was at his side, snatching the slipper from the beaming knight with an impatient snarl.
    “Ready the horses!” he barked, clutching the slipper to his chest, nearly giddy with relief.
    It was clearly a sign, a confirmation that he had been guided here for a reason. God, it seemed, was smiling upon him for once in his life. He was on the right path, and Rutledge couldn't be far.
    As his men hastily mounted, Nigel pictured his glory at bringing the fair flower of Raina back to Norworth, with Rutledge's head on a pike. Averse as he was to taking another man's leavings, Nigel would make exception when those leavings carried with them the promise of a dowry as generous as Raina's. With her safe delivery home, the baron would surely grant Nigel whatever he asked.
    How ironic, Nigel thought, that in capturing Raina, Rutledge had given him an opportunity he would never have gained through his own machinations. Nigel did not even attempt to contain the broad grin inspired by that notion. He had waited far too long to let all of that simply slip through his fingers.
    He crushed the slipper in his fist then cast it into the mud before dashing to his mount and calling for his men to follow as he sped along the riverside.
     
    * * *
     
    Raina sighed heavily and drew her knees up to her chest, clasping her arms around them. They had been sitting in the glade for more than a couple hours, based on the position of the climbing sun, now nearly midsky. She calculated that she had been awake for an entire day and her patience was waning with each passing moment.
    Rutledge's men had nodded off long ago, snoring and making other more disgusting noises before settling into heavy slumber. He, on the contrary, remained awake and as alert as a spring falcon. His ears caught every snap of every twig; each rustle of the smallest forest creature quickly captured the attention of his keen eye. Nothing, it seemed, would escape his notice.
    Raina attempted to study him from the relative safety of her position beneath the tree, but each time she dared to cast him a sidelong glance, she met with his steely gaze. After the third time, she decided it best to avoid the temptation and focus her attention elsewhere.
    Though the air was warming with the day's progression, the ground of the forest floor was damp and cool beneath her derriere and her bare foot. Raina's gaze slid ruefully to her remaining slipper. Blood from the Norworth guards who had fought to protect her spattered the pale wool felt, a bitter reminder of Rutledge's evil doings.
    She shot an angry scowl in his direction, only to find him still watching her intently over the rim of his cup. His gaze dropped to her bare foot, and suddenly feeling exposed, she tucked it under her skirts. “Is it entirely necessary for you to stare at me in such broody silence?”
    “I merely wonder if you considered the consequences of your actions.”
    She balked at his attempt to toss blame in her direction. “I'm sure I have no idea what you speak of, sirrah.”
    “Truly? Then tell me why you hid your foot just now. Did you think I'd not notice the absence of your slipper?”
    Raina frowned, unsure of his meaning.
    “'Twas a clever idea, I'll grant you, but you'd do well to pray your clue goes unnoticed.”
    “My clue?” She let out an exasperated sigh. “You are mad.” When he scoffed, Raina leaned over her knees and hissed, “My slipper is missing through no scheme of mine. It fell off when you nearly killed us diving into a ravine.”
    He chuckled. “You play the role of innocent fairly well, my lady. Your father no doubt would applaud your performance, for 'tis clear the fruit indeed falls close to the tree.”
    She ignored his slight, refusing to let him goad her. “You profess to know a great deal about my father.”
    “Aye, I know more of him it would seem than you do, based upon your