Knight Moves: Merriweather Sisters Time Travel (Merriweather Sisters Time Travel Romance Book 2) by Cynthia Luhrs

 
    Sorry, universe. I swear I didn’t mean it. I like my face. Please don’t let them hurt me.
    Sweetness might work. It couldn’t hurt. “What are y’all doing out here? If you’d remove the sword, I would feel a whole lot better.”
    The man cocked his head, spoke to the leader in that odd French, then sneered at her.
    “You are alone, demoiselle. You come with us.” He moved the blade while the other one tied her hands in front of her, then tied her feet.
    Thank goodness he didn’t notice she’d kicked the gag away. Great, just freaking great. Melinda filled her stomach with breath and pushed it out as far as she could, hoping it might give a tiny bit of slack as the man tied her to the tree.
    The leader sneered at her. “Pleasure us well and we may let you live.”
    She gulped. Not gonna happen. Melinda opened her mouth and let out her best horror-movie scream.
    “Scream for me again, wench. Allow me the joy of cutting out your pretty green eye and sucking out the juices.”
    Ick. How disgusting. She shut her mouth with a snap. This is what you get for making plans. Betcha didn’t plan on being kidnapped and ravaged by a group of horrible men. The voice in her head sounded so smug and self-righteous. This wouldn’t do. She had to get away and find out where and when she was.
    While her captors ate lunch, she tested the ropes. There was a bit of slack around her, and she leaned back and forth, trying to stretch the rope. When one of the men looked her way, she pretended to be fascinated with the trees around her. He went back to eating and she worked on the knots around her wrists. There was no way she would be the dessert.

Chapter Eight

    “Halt.” James swore he heard a woman scream. The feminine sound of distress carried across the wood. He’d seen enough of the horror women faced during battle. He would allow no harm to come to those on his land.
    James urged the horse onward and into the wood to render aid. A young boy—no, ’twas a girl—ran through the woods, a look of fear upon her face. Five men chased her. Bandits from lands to the south, trying to steal from him again. This winter was not as severe as the past few; the terrible famine was now over and food was more plentiful. However, some men, once turned thief, found the taste as filling as a cup of ale and would not turn back.
    The witless female stopped and stood in the grass, gaping at him, mouth open, about to find her head separated from her shoulders.
    He urged the horse to a gallop, metal screeching against metal as he unsheathed his sword, met the bandit’s blade, and saved the wench. The clang of swords rent the air as his men dispatched the ruffians. ’Twas over before James began to sweat. He leaned negligently against a tree, longing for one good fight.
    Where was the feebleminded lass? He heard the sound of a wounded animal coming from the trees. James tied the horse to a tree. He moved through the woods and found her on the ground, curled up into a small ball. As if she could disappear if she made herself small enough. She sat in the snow, head in her hands, muttering strange words.
    He knelt down beside her, grunting at the ache in his leg. James raised a hand to pat her shoulder, then stopped. He did not know how to soothe her tender feelings, so he clapped her on the shoulder.
    “How do you fare?”
    He cast a baleful eye over her while she babbled. Something gleamed like burnished metal in the weak afternoon sun. James reached down and picked up a lock of hair. She’d almost lost her pretty head.
    The hair was glorious. Shades of copper, the red of a sunset, and the dark wine color of dried blood, which, oddly enough, he found quite beautiful. The coil wrapped around his finger, and when he pulled it out, the curl sprang back, curling around his finger as if it did not want to let go. Without thinking, he tucked the lock into a pouch at his waist.
    James leaned close, gentling his voice. “My lady, are you