A Knight of Passion(18)

Riana squirmed in Sir Bryant’s hold.

“Be still,” he ordered with a squeeze.

“Put me down,” she countered.

“By God, Riana, another word, and I will bind and gag you.”

She opened her mouth to tell him to go to Hell, but his hard stare sent a flush of panic through her. He would make good on the threat.

“The priest will arrive shortly,” the warden said. “He will guide you through the tunnel.”

“You will report that we were here?” Sir Bryant asked.

“I have no choice. Too many people will have seen you. No one could mistake her.” He nodded towards Riana.

Anger tightened her chest. “You had no intention of helping me.”

He shifted his gaze to her. “Mayhap not in the way you thought.”

“You led me to believe you would release Glen.”

“Nay, Lady. I did not.”

“Knave,” she spat. “How could you?”

He shrugged. “I am a man.”

“Tell them we took her at sword-point,” Sir Bryant said.

Riana crossed her arms over her chest, eyes on the angular jaw only inches from her face. “You had better be ready to make good on that threat.”

“I will report that my men spotted men-at-arms in the trees around the prison,” the warden said.

A glint lit Sir Dunbar’s eyes. “You would not be mistaken—though your men would not have detected them.”

“Perhaps not,” he replied, and the old knight laughed.

“Leave this place,” Dunbar said. “I could use a man like you in my service.”

Surprise shone in the warden’s eyes. He acknowledged with a cant of his head. “I will keep the offer in mind.”

“You have run mad if you think I will marry you,” Riana said.

Sir Bryant’s gaze shifted to her. “Would you stay with the duchess the rest of your days?”

“I —” What could she say? No, I didn’t plan on staying for, after I pretended to murder Sir Dunbar, I would have fled, then probably been dragged back and imprisoned for a crime the duchess manufactured? “My plans are my own,” she said.

His gaze sharpened. “Would you save your Glen?”

“What do you care of Glen?”

“What of your sister?” he asked.

“My sister?” she burst out. “You play a dangerous game, sir. What do you know of my sister? Ah, yes,” she went on before he could reply. “You have something of the Peeping Tom in you.”

He laughed. “Turnabout is fair play, Lady. And be glad I eavesdropped, for that told me more than you could have.”

“What do you hope to gain by this madness?” she demanded.

A corner of his mouth lifted. “You.”

He shifted his gaze to the warden and she looked in his direction. The priest stood behind him.

The warden turned. “Father Vaughn, you have two customers in need of your services.”

The warden stepped aside and the priest entered the room. His gaze locked on Riana.

She flushed, but didn’t drop her eyes. “Aye, priest, it is I, the duchess’ whore.”

A soft smile touched his mouth. “This is a strange place for you to be, Lady Ellis.”

She’d often wondered what the priest thought of her. As today, he was always all compassion, a man who didn’t judge, but only offered brotherly respect. But he didn’t look the part of a brother. A bare inch shorter than Sir Bryant, his broad shoulders and muscled chest didn’t belong to a priest. Here was a man who could f*ck a woman until she cried out in pleasure. Yet he had never looked at her that way.

“What do you need?” he asked.

“We are to be married,” Sir Bryant said.

Shock widened the priest’s eyes, then he turned a broad smile onto Riana. “That is wonderful.”

“Do not be too hasty with your felicitations,” she said.

“Riana.” Sir Bryant’s hold tightened around her.

“Unless you intend to throttle me, he will hear the truth,” she said.

Laurence appeared in the doorway. “The duke’s men are searching the prison.”

“Explanations will have to wait,” the warden said, though Riana had the distinct feeling he was sorry not to be privy to the details. “Father,” he said, “show them the way through the tunnel.”