The Prisoner Bride. Susan Spencer Paul

it through, and we must both set our minds to it.”

      “He must have paid you well,” Glenys said with disgust, “for, in truth, he has good cause to want me out of his way. And what a fine jest to make himself out as my lover. He must have known you would realize the truth once you set sight upon me.”

      To his merit, the thief didn’t laugh, as she’d expected him to do. He gazed at her with measured calm and replied, “If this was indeed his thought, then he was far mistaken. I understand what it is that you say, mistress, but you merely prove once more that you realize very little of the truth.”

      “I realize perfectly well that no man would claim me as his love unless in jest,” Glenys retorted angrily, furious that they even spoke of such things. “Many, however, might be willing to make such a claim for money, and as that is the heart of this matter, then I pray we speak of it now. Clearly and plainly. Sir Anton paid you well, but I can pay you far more. What amount will you require to stop this foolishness and release us? I vow, upon my honor, that I’ll make payment and let you go peaceably on your way. I’ll say nothing of the matter to anyone, and will make certain that John and Willem are silent, as well. Only stop the carriage now and we’ll speak terms.”

      “I’m sorry to be so disobliging, Mistress Glenys,” he said, “but no amount of gold could cause me to turn this task aside. Apart from Sir Anton’s desires, I have reasons of my own for taking and holding you, as I have already said. Mayhap we should begin again. Let me introduce myself to you. My name is Kieran FitzAllen, and I am pleased to be known to you, Mistress Glenys and Mistress Dina.” He sat forward and regally bowed his head.

      Glenys wished she had something to bash him with in that vulnerable moment, but there was nothing to be had. She threw her hands up in the air, instead, in a gesture of the fury she felt. “I care not who you are, idiot knave! How can I make you see reason? Sir Anton will not come to fetch me. He has sent you on a fool’s errand only to keep me out of his path.”

      Kieran FitzAllen’s gaze sharpened.

      “Then why would he hire me, if not at least to try to force you to wife? Even if he is not your lover, do you not think it likely that he desires your fortune?”

      “’Tis no fortune of gold that he desires,” Glenys told him, “but a treasure that rightly belongs to the Seymours. He seeks to find this treasure, which has been lost to us, before I can do so.”

      “Ah,” her kidnapper said with sudden understanding, “the Greth Stone. Is that what we speak of?”

      Glenys was so surprised he knew of it that she was momentarily stunned into silence. Beside her, Dina stiffened and whispered fearfully, “He knows, m’lady! He’s in league with Sir Anton!”

      “Nay, that I am not,” Kieran FitzAllen said at once, directing his attention to Dina as he strove to allay her fears. “Sir Anton’s reasons for having your mistress taken and held are as nothing to me, though I admit they provided me with the opportunity for doing so. I know of the Greth Stone because he warned me that Mistress Glenys would resist being taken for the sake of her own quest to regain it.” He looked at Glenys. “In this matter, at least, ’tis clear he spoke the truth.”

      “Not the truth, but cleverly enough,” Glenys admitted, her spirits sinking by the moment. Each sentence that passed in their conversation set an ever increasing distance between them and London. The carriage rattled along at an alarmingly brisk pace, and the sky grew ever more dark with storm clouds. Her aunts and uncles would begin to worry if she didn’t return soon. Or perhaps not, she reasoned, as they seemed to have known that she would not be returning to Metolius anytime soon. The memory of their parting made Glenys inwardly groan. Why couldn’t they just tell her outright when these things were going to happen? Why did everything always have to be such a mystery?

      “Please,” she begged, “listen to me, sir, and understand what I say. The Greth Stone is naught but a very old ring, passed through many generations of my family, from as far back as Roman times. It bears no great value save to the Seymours, and only for the sake of sentiment. But there are some who say that it possesses mystical powers, and despite the foolishness of such a claim, there are many more who believe it. Sir Anton is among them. The ring was stolen from our London home, Metolius, while we were gone to our family estate in Wales from Michaelmas until Twelth Day. The man who stole it is…well, that doesn’t matter. What matters is that I know who he is, and ’twas my intention to set out next month in order to search the thief out and reclaim the ring. Sir Anton knew of my plans and has clearly determined that he must stop me.”

      “He means to find Caswallan before you do, eh?” Kieran FitzAllen asked. Again, Glenys was stunned.

      “He told you of Caswallan?” she asked, utterly amazed. “God’s mercy, but Sir Anton Lagasse must be a greater fool than I had believed.” She looked at her captor more closely. “You are in league with him, aren’t you? You must be, to do his bidding in this fruitless matter.”

      “I am only concerned with Sir Anton because he hired me to kidnap and hold you, mistress. There is nothing more. I have no interest in your Greth Stone, whether it exists or has magical powers.”

      “Of a certainty it has no magical powers,” Glenys said, scoffing. “’Tis naught but a very old ring of little value. But I will not allow Sir Anton to hold aught that belongs to my family. He sees himself as a conjurer, possessed of great skill, and believes the Greth Stone will make him the more powerful.”

      At this, the knave finally laughed, throwing his head back and showing teeth that were white and even. Glenys noted, much to her aggravation, that even in mirth he was almost too handsome to look at.

      “Sir Anton!” he declared, grinning widely. “A skilled conjurer? I vow, ’tis too much to bear!” He laughed again, fully amused. “By the rood, he seemed more like a well-dressed mouse than so powerful a man.” He laughed all the harder.

      Glenys frowned darkly. “It matters not what he may seem to be, but only that he has succeeded in keeping me from reaching Caswallan first. I tell you, Sir Anton must not be allowed to get the Greth Stone in his grasp. There will be no chance for my family to regain it if it falls to him. You must end this foolishness now and let us go!”

      He sobered only slightly, enough to stop laughing and say, grinning, “Nay, that I cannot do.”

      “But why?” she demanded. “Now that you know ’tis but a fool’s errand, you have no cause to continue! I have already said that I will pay you far more than Sir Anton promised. And surely you must realize that regardless of what he has already paid, there will be no more. He’ll not keep his word and come to fetch me. I’faith, ’twill be far more likely that we’ll be greeted by worse knaves than you and your accomplice at some point upon our journey, set upon killing us all.”

      Kieran FitzAllen looked at her with pure disbelief. “How so? Sir Anton has no reason to want you dead, even if all you say is true, and a less likely murderer I’ve e’er set sight upon.”

      “Then you are naught but a fool,” Glenys said. “Sir Anton knows that I will not cease in exposing him for the deceiver he is, and for that alone he would gladly have me dead. And he would care nothing for any other deaths that might occur for the sake of being rid of me, yours included.”

      It was clear by the look on Kieran FitzAllen’s face that he didn’t believe a word she said. He merely sighed aloud and stated, “Sir Anton would find it difficult to kill me, I vow, and you as well, while you are beneath my care. I am not a knight of the realm, but I’ve matched a goodly share of them in singular battle before now and come away the winner. I have no fear of any man, and most assuredly not of one the likes of Sir Anton Lagasse.”

      Though she wished it were not so, Glenys had to admit that the man sitting opposite her looked fully capable of besting any number of skilled fighting men; he was well-muscled and moved with a certain ease and grace that might give him an advantage over lesser men.

      “Perhaps not of Sir Anton,” she said, “but you would be foolish not to consider that among my relatives