Read Betrothed for Free Online Page B

the more green they became. When calm, they
turned almost blue with flecks of gold. The warm emotion appeared to go soul
deep. But had he really seen into her heart?
    “My
lord?” Porter’s voice was breathless as if he had been the one doing the
cantering, not the horses. Donovan realized his horse was going at a fair clip.
He slowed to a trot. His thoughts of Isabeau had fired a need to return to her
side. To explore the contradictions that made up the lady.
    “Yes,
Porter?”
    “I
hesitate to speak out of turn but…”
    “What
is it, man?”
    “I
don’t wish to seem disloyal to the new master of Olivet, but I have some grave
concerns.”
    “If
you think I haven’t noticed the state of the tenant cottages, be at ease. I
will make mention of the situation to Lord Simon. Workers who sicken in the
winter will be of little use to Lord Simon come planting and harvest. I will
make him see the long-term profit of caring for his people.”
    “You
see the measure of the man, my lord,” Porter replied. “Please accept that I
mean no disrespect to either of you, but my greatest concern of late is Lady
Isabeau.”
    Donovan
brought his animal to an abrupt halt. “Lady Isabeau?”
     “Aye,
my lord.” The man paled and perspiration began to bead on his upper lip. “Some
months back…” He swallowed and pushed his shoulders back before starting again.
His voice stronger this time, “Some months back, we were visited by Lord
Kirney. I know he is your man, but he does you no credit.
    “He
took a fancy to Carl’s—one of the tenants—twelve-year-old daughter. Two of his
men snatched her from the field where she was minding younger brothers and
dragged her to the manor. He—he raped her again and again—through the night and
into the next. Some say that Lord Simon joined him, for they both jested of it.
Pardon, my lord, I must speak of this. With my own ears, I heard Kirney brag
that tearin’ virgins was the best of sports. He said nowadays he must hunt
further afield ‘ cause they were becoming as rare as
unicorns.”
    Rage
burned in Donovan’s gut. “And Lady Isabeau?” he demanded between clenched
teeth, “How does she play in your worries?  Was she part of…?”
    “Nay,
my lord!” Porter shook his head vigorously. “If she had known Hannah was being
hurt she would have forged into the fray and ‘twouldn’t be the first time.”
    “What
else?”
    “I
heard the two lords bargaining over Lady Isabeau. Marriage was mentioned
but—but Lady Isabeau is a gentle lass. She’d not survive the likes of Lord
Kirney. I’d not like to see her broke like Hannah. She’s cared for all of
Olivet in spite of her brother’s tirades.”
    Donovan
flicked the bridle and once more headed towards Olivet. “I comprehend your
meaning, Porter. Rest assured, I will see that Lady Isabeau is safely placed.
What of the young girl?”
    For
a moment, only the thump of hooves on the well-worn path answered him. He
turned to the steward and read grief on the thin man’s face.
    “She
lived, the poor mite. They say that, though her face weren’t touched, she was
tore up inside and out.”
    Donavan
and Porter proceeded apace to the keep. In Donavan’s mind, superimposed on the
lovely countryside, was a picture of Isabeau’s perfect body atop that of a
remembered French woman. The unfortunate whore had been willing to sell her
wares but the bastards he and his men tracked had decided their gold was too
good for her. Their victim had been brutalized for days. They had stripped her
and lashed her to four trees. When the monsters were through, they robbed her
and left her to die.
    When
Donovan’s patrol found her, little could be done but to wait for the end and
then bury her body. Though he had meted out swift and painful justice to the
guilty, there was little satisfaction. Justice had not stopped the woman’s pain
nor given her back her life.
    Isabeau
would not meet with a similar end. Donavan had no qualms about supplying