Anselm swore an oath. ‘And where’s ’er fool of a husband?’
‘Never mind him,’ Hugh snapped. ‘I need to go now.’
‘I’m coming with you, Fox.’
‘I said no. Go and get back to your family. You’re in no fit state.’
‘I said I’m coming with you!’
‘Damn your impertinence,’ he admonished him, but knew he didn’t have time. ‘Very well, you may be of some use.’ He turned to Claymore. ‘If he’s coming then you’d better forget the guards.’
‘Godspeed, my lord,’ Claymore said.
Hugh gave the older man a nod and pulled on the reins, galloping away with the outlaw following in his stead.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Eleanor’s eyes flickered as she gradually regained consciousness. She groaned in pain, every part of her body aching. Dear God, her head! It felt as though it had split in two. It was throbbing, making it difficult for her to open her eyes, and her stomach felt as though it might need to empty itself.
She touched the top of her head, where it hurt so badly, and felt a lump and a gooey stickiness, through the veil. She felt bitterly cold, and was lying on something soft, yet damp, with the faint murmur of flowing water in the distance.
She gazed through the narrow slits of her partially opened eyes to find that two men stood by the edge of what appeared to be a gorge. One stood with his hands on his hips, and even from this angle, and despite his unusually dark attire, he was very much known to her.
Lord Balvoire...
But why? Why had he done this?
She shifted a little, trying in vain to find a more comfortable position.
‘Lord Balvoire?’ she mumbled. ‘What have you done?’ She rubbed her eyes lightly, trying to coax them to open more.
‘Ah, My Lady Eleanor, you’re finally with us, are you? Good, good...’
The odious man walked towards her and smiled, making the bile in her stomach rise.
‘And that, my dear, is the question I should be asking you.’
‘I don’t know what you’re trying to say...’
‘Don’t you, my lady?’ He crouched beside her.
‘No. Your behaviour is as outrageous as it is mad,’ she retorted, feeling none of the conviction of her words. She tried again, more forcibly. ‘I demand you take me back to my castle.’
‘This little misplaced outburst is precisely the reason why I have always liked you, my dear.’
‘Misplaced? What are you talking about?’
He sneered, moving closer to her and lifting her chin with his spindly long fingers so his face was level with hers. ‘You know, King John should have given you to me,’ he murmured, licking his lips, ‘You were wasted on Richard Millais, although I admired his persistence in getting you to dance to his tune. Not that you did, of course. I would have handled you very differently...’
‘Well, that is one thing I can be thankful for. At least the King spared me that.’
‘Let’s not be too hasty, Lady Eleanor.’ He leered at her, running his fingers down her face.
‘You forget yourself, sir, and you forget that I’m married. You will mind not to touch me again.’ The pounding in her head was now punishing.
‘We’ll see, my dear. And that new husband of yours will be of no use to you now. You’re well beyond his reach.’
She shuddered in alarm. ‘Which once again begs the question you have failed to answer, my lord. Why am I here and why have you abducted me in this high-handed manner?’
Eleanor hoped that Lord Balvoire would not notice her growing anxiety. What in heaven’s name was going on? She had no choice but to keep him talking whilst hoping to gain some semblance of her strength back, however futile that seemed.
He dragged her to her feet and pulled her round to face the gorge. She could barely stand...still felt so very weak.
‘Beautiful here, isn’t it? I’ve always enjoyed coming here. And you see the gorge yonder, Lady Eleanor? Well, the other side of it is my land...my territory.’
‘I am aware, my lord, but what has that got to do with anything?’
‘Ah, but do you know that this side—this part with the dense woodland—also belonged to my family? The old King Henry annexed it and gifted it to your father, for some nefarious reason of his own, and now, my dear, the time has come to redress that decision.’
‘Is that what all this is about?’
‘Alas, it is only a means to an end, my dear.’ He laughed roughly. ‘And now I will ask you the same question you asked me when you fluttered your pretty eyes open just moments ago...’ He smiled, revealing yellow-stained teeth. ‘What have you done, Lady Eleanor?’
‘I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, sir.’
‘Apologies, my dear. That bang on the head must have been harder than I thought. Allow me to explain,’ he said. He leant forward and caught her mother’s necklace in his palm. ‘Beautiful little thing... And, you know, for all its plain design I recognised it immediately at Winchester. Clever, really, although I had to wait to have it confirmed and tied up with the outlaw. But then I am a patient man.’
Eleanor swallowed, her heart hammering against her chest. Oh, God, no! This obnoxious, horrible man could not possibly know her secret. She could not betray her emotions. She must not. She had to remain calm and show surprise, even outrage, at his accusations.
‘Did you also receive a bang on the head, my lord? You are making little sense. You recognised my cross because I always wear it.’
‘Yes, and that was why it was quite surprising—shocking, even—when I saw it dangling out of that preposterous outlaw’s tunic for a mere moment all those weeks ago. When you ambushed us,’ he snarled. ‘I thought it odd, because it’s such a feminine piece of jewellery. But then I always did think the outlaw had a woman’s cunning.’
He pushed down Eleanor’s veil, gripping a long lock of hair and pulling it tightly, jolting
