Love Never Lies by Rachel Donnelly Page A

not have been very happy if I’d let you leave.”
      She muttered an oath then spun back around. But her anger soon fled.
    The scowl on Fortin’s face as he strode toward her confirmed Beaufort’s words. “Come,” he said clasping her firmly by the arm.

    Chapter Three

    “Nay!” She attempted to jerk from his grasp. “I’ll not go anywhere with you.”
    He didn’t answer, but instead began towing her toward the stairs. She struggled and squirmed attempting to twist away, but this only caused him to tighten his grip. Not that there was anywhere to go if she did pry him loose. The hall was full to overflowing with his and Beaufort’s men.
    Halfway up the stairs he stopped, pinning her shoulders against the cold, stone wall with both hands , his voice low and menacing. “Would you prefer I carried you up the stairs?”
    Tears stung her eyes from bashing her shins on the flags, which could have been avoided had she gone meekly, but who could go anywhere meekly with a man who hated the very sight of you? Despite this, she managed to keep the quaver of fear from her voice. “Nay! I would prefer that I’d never met you—that you were never born. But never would I wish for you to touch me again!”
      “You’ll have more to worry about than me touching you, if you don’t come with me right now.”
    “I’m not afraid of you.”
    “’Tis not I, but the army of men below in the hall you should fear. Now that they’ve seen what lies beneath that fine cloth, they’ll surely trample each other to get to you.”
    Isabeau gazed down at the blue kirtle plastered to her like a wet rag, realizing why the hall had gone as quiet as a chapel when Beaufort drew her forth. Without her mantle every angle and curve of her body lay exposed to their greedy gaze.
    “Come.” Fortin gave a tug to her arm, giving no time for her hot cheeks to cool. “The hour grows late, and in case it has escaped your notice, I’m not happy at being wrenched from my bed.”
    The grim set of his mouth warned her against further defiance.
    When he pulled her away from the wall, she allowed him to lead her the rest of the way up the stairs. He continued to haul her along the drafty, dim-lit corridor until they reached the third oak door.
    Once inside, he released her.
    She wasted no time whirling away from him to seek the warmth of the fire. But she was careful not to take her eyes off him. Her heart boomed in her ears like a blacksmith’s anvil. What would he do with her now—lock her in chains? She could not bear confinement. In fact, she feared it more than the dark shadows of the woods. She savored the company of others. Solitude, with too much time to think, had always been her enemy.
    “You’ll sleep here tonight,” he said, striding to the end of the bed to retrieve his hauberk and sword. “Don’t look so hopeful.” His tone turned wry. “There’ll be a guard posted beyond the door.”
    “Where would I go?” She bit out each word distinctly, wishing she had more than words to fling at him. “You’ve taken all of my clothes. I’m soaked to the skin.”
    “If you had any sense, you wouldn’t have ventured forth in such a storm in the first place,” he said in a flat tone, lacking any shred of sympathy. “‘Tis likely you’ll catch your death of cold.”
    Isabeau choked down a hysterical laugh, holding her shaking hands over the fire. “A little late to pretend concern for my welfare, don’t you think?”
    “You’re nothing to me. ‘Tis the ransom I care about.”
    The coldness in his voice, and her own disappointment at failing to escape, made her words bitter as she turned to level her gaze on him. “Would that I were nothing—‘twould be easier to disappear. But I am something to many people, just as the ones you love and hold tight to your heart. So if you wish to collect your ransom, ‘twould be wise if you did not manhandle me again.” She turned her back on him with a dismissive toss of her head, to