Free Knight's Captive by Samantha Holt Page B

prisoners are looked after and returned
safely. Would you not hope the same for our Englishmen should the roles be
reversed? Am I to abandon this woman to their desires and stand idly by while
they ravish her and worse? Pray tell, how am I meant to control three hundred
men when I thrust a woman amongst them?”
    If he paused, he might reconsider his words. He
might try to reconcile with the priest. But what the man was suggesting made
his skin burn. Reed clearly had little compassion for Antonia and that riled
him most of all.
    “Of course not. But
she is Catholic, Sir Henry, and your uncle...”
    “Was a heretic, aye. But my
father proved his worth and the shadows of his deeds have long been banished.
Showing compassion to another—Catholic or not—should not cast me as a heretic
and if I hear speak of such, I shall assume the source of these scandalous
words are very close to me indeed.”
    He stepped closer and gave the priest a grave
look. He wouldn’t be surprised if Reed had ignored any talk from the villagers
and jumped to his own conclusions. But this man could lead opinion if he tried
hard enough. Charismatic or not, the villagers still looked to him for
guidance. If Henry was to be betrayed, he thought it would likely come from
this small, balding, uncharismatic man.
    “I assure you,” he stammered, “I would counsel
anyone who would utter such falsities against—”
    “I should hope so, Reverend. These are trying
times and the smallest rumour can ruin a man.” He stepped back, aware the
priest was darting his gaze from side to side as though searching for escape.
“That woman remains in my home, under my protection until her safe return has
been arranged. In the meantime, I suggest you calm the villagers and assure
them that they will be rewarded for their generosity in looking after the
prisoners.”
    Reed nodded frantically. “Of
course, of course. I see that you are busy so I shall leave you to your
day. Good day, Sir Henry. Good day.”
    The man scurried away, leaving Henry glaring at
his back. His glare softened when Antonia slipped past the man, offering a
quick dip before lifting her brows in question to Henry.
    “I have caused you trouble?”
    “No more than I expected.”
    He allowed his gaze to trail over her. This day
she wore forest green. Again, the gown was simple—cut to reveal this lacy
chemise below at the sides and elbows. The way it followed the gentle curve of
her hips made him want to slip his hands over those same curves and pull them tight against him. She might be slender but there
was no mistaking the way her breasts strained against the fabric. Whoever Kate
had borrowed the gown from was not so blessed as Antonia.
    And of course, when he skimmed his gaze down, he
recalled those long legs now tucked away under the wool. Henry snapped his gaze
back up.
    “Why did you not just put me with the other prisoners?”
    “I could not guarantee your safety.”
    “And that is of great import to you?”
    He scowled. Was it so hard to believe that he
would not wish a woman under his care to come to harm? Had he not already proved
as much by saving her from drowning? It should not aggravate him that she had
doubts about his character. After all, she hardly knew him.
    “I would not see you harmed. I would not see any
of the men harmed if I can help it and I vowed to your father that I would keep
you safe.”
    She nodded slowly and strolled around the table
to sit. He followed suit and turned his attention to the morning meal, but the
tension that drifted through the air and coiled itself around him like an adder
stole his appetite. Yet it was not the uncomfortable tension he’d felt
before—the one borne of uncertainty. His altercation with the priest had at
least done one thing—reassured him of his actions.
    Nay, the tension came from a sizzling awareness
that ran between them. She had wanted him to kiss her. Hell fire, she had
wanted more. He likely could have continued kissing