To Beguile a Beast (Legend of the Four Soldiers #3)(72)

And she was very much afraid that she’d never see Castle Greaves or Sir Alistair again.

Chapter Fifteen

Truth Teller looked up and saw that clouds were moving over the moon. He remembered what Princess Sympathy had said: that the sorcerer would only be transformed while the light of the moon was upon him. Even as Truth Teller turned to run down the mountain, the little brown bat appeared. The clouds covered the moon, and the bat turned back into the sorcerer. He fell to the ground nude and then stood, powerful and angry.

“What have you done?” he shouted.

Truth Teller looked at him and told him what he must: the truth. “I have drugged you, released the princess, and loosed the swallows. She has fled here on a fast horse, and you will never catch her. Because of me, you have lost her forever.…”

—from TRUTH TELLER

By the time Alistair returned to the hotel, it was early evening. His follower had managed to keep up with the carriage all the way from the docks, but once they’d made the hotel, another man had taken his place. A shorter fellow in what had once been a yellow coat leaned against the wall opposite Alistair’s hotel. Not that Alistair cared at the moment. He wanted only to get to the room he shared with Helen, retire from all the eyes that stared at him constantly, and perhaps see if he could have a meal brought up so they could dine in private.

He simply wanted to rest.

But the moment he entered the hotel room, he could feel the tension surrounding Helen. He paused a moment in the doorway, eyeing her. She paced by the windows, a short track between the bed and the wall, her brows furrowed and one hand rubbing the other at her waist.

He sighed and shut the door behind him. She’d been anxious when he’d left her here earlier, but not this anxious. What was working her up now?

“I thought I’d order a simple supper to eat in the room if that’s agreeable to you,” he said as he crossed to a dresser. On the top were a basin and a jug of fresh water. He poured some water into the basin.

Behind him there was silence save for her pacing footsteps.

“Is it?” he asked.

“What?” Her voice was distracted.

“Is it agreeable to you to eat here?” He splashed water on his face.

“I… I suppose.”

He took a towel and dried his face, turning to watch her. She’d halted by the window, staring down at her feet.

He threw aside the towel. “What did you do this afternoon?”

“Oh, nothing much.” Her fair skin blushed, the pretty pink moving up her throat and to her cheeks. She looked quite lovely, but she was lying.

He strolled toward her, examining her. “You didn’t go out?”

Her eyes dropped.

And he knew, suddenly and without any doubt. “You saw Lister.”

She jerked her head up, her gaze meeting his defiantly. “Yes. I had to at least try to make him see reason.”

Scalding hot rage bubbled in his veins, but he held it in check—barely.

“And did he?” he asked gently.

“No,” she said. “He’s determined to keep the children.”

He cocked his head, angling his good eye at her. “And he just let you go, tripping down his front steps and away without so much as an attempt to stay you? Perhaps he even waved his handkerchief in farewell as you left?”

Her blush deepened. “He didn’t try to keep me—”

“No, of course not. Why would he when he’s gone to all the trouble of kidnapping your children to get you back?”

Her head jerked as if he’d slapped her. “How did you know he wants me back?”

He laughed, the sound harsh and quick. “Don’t take me for a fool. A man doesn’t kidnap his bastard children when he already has three sons and heirs. I know him. I know his game. He’s using them as hostages to get you to return, isn’t he?”

“He said I’d never see them again unless I returned as his mistress.”

Something inside of him erupted. He felt the release, overflowing the edge of reason into insanity.

“Did you agree?” Somehow he’d crossed the room and seized her arms. “Tell me, Helen. Did you agree to return to him? To let him into your bed? To be his whore? Did you?”

She stared up at him with those damned drowning harebell eyes. “He says I’ll never see Abigail and Jamie again unless I return to him. They’re all I have, Alistair. My children. My babies.”

He shook her once. “Did you agree?”

“I can’t never see them again.”

“Goddamn you, Helen.” His chest was tight with horror. “Did you agree?”

“No.” She closed her eyes. “No. I told him no.”

“Thank God.” He pulled her into his arms and brought his mouth down on hers, crushing her soft lips. The thought of her with Lister was driving him beyond control. “Did he hurt you?”

“No,” she gasped. “He… he gripped my hand, but—”

He grabbed both her hands and saw red welts on the right. Abruptly, he stilled, cradling her delicate fingers in his larger hand. “He hurt you.”

“It’s nothing.” She pulled her hand gently away.

“Did he hurt you—touch you—anywhere else?”

“No, Alistair, no.”