The Prisoner Bride. Susan Spencer Paul

her tightly in panic, making matters worse.

      Everything happened so quickly that by the time Glenys had righted both herself and Dina, it was too late. The imposter who’d taken John’s place had lifted himself easily into the carriage and shut the door behind him, and the carriage had been set into motion.

      “What—!” Glenys uttered.

      The man sat in the seat opposite them, pulling a long, sharp, shining knife from beneath the folds of John’s tunic—for he wore it over his own clothing—and held it up.

      “Be quiet for now, mistress,” he said in a calm but commanding tone. “Have no fears, for if you do as I say, no harm will come to you or your maid. If you refuse to obey, I’ll make you insensible. And her, as well.” He nodded at Dina, who made a gargled, choking sound and promptly fainted on Glenys’s shoulder.

      “We have no money,” Glenys told him, pushing Dina upright with both hands to keep her from sliding to the floor. “I’ve brought nothing from the bank.”

      The fiend merely smiled at her—in a ridiculously charming manner that Glenys felt belied the situation entirely.

      “I’ve no care for your money, Mistress Glenys,” he replied. “Now heed me, and keep quiet. We’ll be at the city gate soon, and then you’ll have enough to say. Once we’re safe out of London, I’ll explain the matter most fully.”

      “At the city gates, I’ll have you—and whoever is driving our carriage—arrested,” Glenys vowed angrily. “What have you done with John and Willem? For that is surely not Willem atop. He’d never—”

      The stranger held up a staying hand. “They are both well and unharmed. A little tap to the head, I promise you, is all they suffered. I’ve already arranged for them to be found and safely returned to Metolius. Have no fears for them, but for yourself and your maid. I dislike harming women, but I will do so if I must. We will get through the city gates, either with your aid or without, though you’ll far prefer the outcome if you freely lend your assistance. Understand me well, Mistress Glenys, for I mean what I say. I’ve killed a great many men in my life, and adding two London guards to the number will mean very little to me. I suspect, howbeit, that you would prefer not to be the cause of such bloodshed. Nay, be still.” He held up the knife. “You may speak as much as you like…later.”

      Chapter Three

      Glenys folded her arms across her chest, leveled her gaze directly at her abductor and stared. He stared back with that same charming smile on his face, seemingly content to remain silent and match her in a contest of wills.

      Glenys’s eyes narrowed. He was just the sort of man she despised. Handsome and so assured of his own charms that he thought a mere smile could make a woman melt in adoration. Especially an unattractive female, such as she was. Well, he was handsome, she would give him that, perhaps the handsomest man she’d yet set sight upon—and probably as charming as could be—but that mattered for naught. If he believed Glenys would fall prey to such foolish tricks, he was far, far wrong. She’d learned very well how to protect her heart. Ill-favored girls learned that early on, and very quickly.

      His eyes were stunningly blue and very clear against the light golden-brown of his overlong hair. His face was aristocratic and finely boned, with a long, aquiline nose and high cheekbones. His mouth—well, Glenys wouldn’t let herself dwell upon that particular feature too long. It was purely sensual, especially smiling at her in that certain manner. He must have used that smile to great effect in the past. How foolish he was to think that Glenys was as simpleminded as so many other females, though she admitted, grudgingly, it was…rather unsettling to be looked at just so. She’d never been smiled at in such a way before, not by any man, least of all one so well-favored as this thief.

      They were well out of London now, several miles, at least. She’d meant to cry out for help at the city gate, God’s truth she had. But Dina still lay so limply against her, so entirely vulnerable, and the knave had secreted his knife with such obvious meaning that she’d decided it would be best to do as he said for now and deal with getting rid of him later. Once he realized that she had no money and that her relatives wouldn’t begin to know how to ransom her—for they had little practical knowledge of the world, and no knowledge of how to access their own fortune—he’d let both her and Dina go. There could surely be nothing else he wanted, unless it was from Dina. Glenys knew herself to be thoroughly undesirable, despite the practiced smiles the rogue was yet sending her way.

      And so, resigned to at least obey the man until she was able to reason with him, Glenys had repeated exactly what he’d told her to say to the guards, and they, recognizing her, had opened the gates and let them pass. Almost immediately thereafter Dina had begun to come to her senses, and Glenys had been busy dealing with her maid’s incoherent fears and fits of weeping for the next quarter of an hour. Only now had Dina subsided, reassured by Glenys—and also by the stranger, though Glenys had bid him to the devil when he’d spoken—that no harm would come to her. The younger girl sat, dazed and frightened, with her hands folded in her lap, sniffling and wiping away silent tears. Glenys, certain that she could at last now deal with the matter at hand, crossed her arms over her chest and prepared to reason with their captor. His insolence had held her silent, daring him to speak first, but now that several stubborn moments had passed between them, she at last gave way.

      “You will have no money from this venture, I promise you,” she told him. “Indeed, you will be fortunate if your only recompense is escaping a fitting punishment at the hands of the king, which would be, most like, nothing less than being drawn and quartered. But you will escape that fate only if you cease this venture now, sir. If you do not, I can make no promise that you will evade your just due.”

      He appeared to be entirely amused at her pronouncement, and nodded at her regally.

      “You are kind to think on my safety and well-being, mistress,” he said, “but I fear I cannot put an end to this…venture, as you term it…even for the sake of my own life, and that of my companion. I have already accepted payment for the deed and, having done so, I cannot now give way for the sake of my honor, as little of it as I possess.”

      Glenys’s eyes grew round with surprise. “Someone paid you to kidnap me? Who was it? And to what purpose? I tell you there will be no ransom, even if you should threaten to kill me.”

      His eyebrows rose at this. “Your family holds you far more dearly than you think, mistress. I’m certain they would pay well indeed to secure your return, and most especially to make certain of your life. But you have not been taken for that purpose, for the sake of a ransom. I was hired by your lover, Sir Anton Lagasse, to secret you away and keep you safe in a place where your—”

      “Sir Anton!” Glenys cried, interrupting him.

      Beside her, Dina groaned out loud and said, “Oh, no!”

      The stranger regarded them with bemusement. “He isn’t your lover?”

      Glenys had set a hand to her forehead in distress and briefly closed her eyes. She opened them now and said, far more loudly and irately than she’d meant, “Nay, you God-cursed fool! He’s my direst enemy. The very man who means my family naught but ruin and misery.”

      The knave at last lost his smile. “I’m very sorry then, for ’tis clear that he lied to me about his intentions. But I thought it might be thus, for he seemed a feckless knave. Still, I have taken you as I agreed to do, and will hold you captive until he comes to fetch you.”

      “Hold me? Until he comes to fetch me for what? What lies did he tell you?”

      “Sir Anton told me that he is your lover, but that your family refuses to recognize his request for your hand in marriage because they deem him unsuitable. Howbeit, he is shortly to become both landed and more highly titled, and believes that your relatives will thereafter find him acceptable. He fears, however, that you will be forced to marry another before he can attain this goal, and therefore hired me to secret you away at his keep in York, safe from your family, until