Read By Grace Possessed for Free Online Page B

herself.
    “Brought up with my father, like his own brother. He was shot in the back from ambush, though not before he sired a son, my cousin Liam.”
    “Shot during a cattle raid,” Trilborn said with a sniff.
    The Scotsman’s hard gaze did not waver. “Oh, aye, being as daft for reiving as my father. But enough. Lady Catherine is weary, hungry and half-frozen, and grows more so while we stand here nattering. Do you have a mount for her, or must she walk back to the castle?”
    It was a point Cate would have been glad to have made herself, had she not been transfixed by what she had learned. Border feuds were notorious for their violence, but this one seemed more vicious than most. She had never before seen Trilborn in a rage; he was usuallyall smiles and studied pleasantries. The glances he divided between her and the Scotsman were murderous. Either his interest in her was greater than she had known, or it had been sharpened by discovering her with Ross Dunbar. Well, and perhaps by the knowledge that a forced marriage was the usual result.
    He could not know that she and the Scotsman had vowed between them to see that no such sacrifice was necessary. Let him discover it when he would. That was soon enough.
    Accordingly, she summoned her most wan smile, looking as fatigued as she was able. Trilborn offered his arm and she took it, ignoring Ross’s dry laugh as she allowed the nobleman to lead her to a sturdy gray rouncy.
    She paused, reaching to allow the horse to sniff her hand, and then rubbing its soft muzzle. The rouncy was more suitable for a man, or else for transporting a body, she saw with a small shiver. “Is this the only extra mount?” she asked over her shoulder.
    “We knew not what we might find, so prepared for the worst,” Trilborn said with an air of haughty defense. “Dunbar can run along behind us, or else wait until another horse is brought back for him.”
    It was purest insult, that suggestion that the Scotsman run along behind them like a serf. “Or I can ride pillion behind him,” she pointed out. “The saddle is a man’s, after all.”
    “If that’s your preference, then you shall ride with me,” Trilborn said at once.
    His arrogance was incredible. She was possibly more tired than she knew, for it made her contrary. “I wouldnot dream of subjecting your stallion to such an indignity,” she said before turning to the Scotsman. “Sir, if you would be so kind as to mount and then allow me to settle behind you?”
    Ross came forward, his gaze considering as it rested on her face. He did not answer, however, but only vaulted to the saddle with such swift ease that the ends of his plaid flew wide. Once seated, he held his hand down to her.
    Cate met the rich blue of his eyes for endless seconds while an unaccountable impression of safety settled deep inside her. She stretched high to clasp his arm above the wrist, then, while he did the same to hers. A brief heave with iron-hard muscles, and she was seated behind him with her arms locked about his waist.
    Trilborn was displeased, but could hardly order a guest of Henry’s unhorsed. He stalked to his stallion, snatched the reins from the man-at-arms who held them and accepted a leg up into the saddle. With an imperious gesture, he detailed two men to put out the fire and then swept around, leading the troop from the small clearing, making for the castle.
    Cate looked back, imprinting the fire and the snow-covered shelter that lay behind it on her mind, while an odd sense of loss made her chest ache. For a few short hours, she had been free. No one had cared how she looked, what she wore or how she stood, walked, sat, ate or prayed. She had not been expected to dip curtsies like a duck bobbing for river weed, had not been required to recall obscure titles and who took precedence over whom. She’d had no need to watch every word for fearof offending or having something she said repeated to the king. She had been herself without let or