Read Wildewood Revenge for Free Online Page A

good or bad. He thought he knew women and he thought he knew spies, but he was beginning to realise that when combined, he actually knew very little indeed. Her behaviour was so erratic he wondered which was genuine the fear or the fearlessness.
    Perhaps she was not a victim of the noose, her explanation was plausible but he wasn’t entirely convinced her sudden appearance was merely coincidental and still needed answers. He was more used to interrogating enemy soldiers however, not scared young girls, no matter how hard she might be trying to hide her fear. He could easily adopt the role of bully and tormenter, and indeed had done just that so far, but it did not sit well with him. He leaned forward again and the dog stood. The growl accompanied by the slight flick of its tail betraying the dog’s immaturity and lack of confidence. He clicked his fingers, whistled softly and the dog approached on its belly. He scratched its ears and the dog grinned, its puppy grin and curled up next to him.
    “I am no madman, nor do I prey on young girls. I merely came to your aid, Mademoiselle. You offend me by thinking otherwise.”
    “And yet you put a knife to my throat?”
    “I am a cautious man and you incite bad behaviour,” he replied with a smile. “I mean you no harm. You are quite safe.”
    “Well obviously you’re going to say that,” she answered. “You’re not going to sit there and admit to what you’re actually planning.”
    He shrugged. “Then why ask, Mademoiselle, if you do not believe I will reply truthfully?”
    She looked at him, opened her mouth to reply and snapped it shut almost immediately; the realisation of the situation, evident in the scowl that soured her face.
    When he realised she had no answer he smiled and began again. “Where do you really come from, you are not from these parts? I’ve been away for some time but still, I do not recognise the name of your family.”
    She stayed silent, swaying slightly before him, the tincture still present in her system. She had worn herself out with her tantrum.   From where he sat he could see how her pupils dilated. He would be lucky to get much more out of her.
    He was playing with her, avoiding her questions with ease, but he realised with growing frustration there would be no quick answers to his own. As with a wounded animal she needed sleep and she wasn’t the only one. None of them were going anywhere while this weather continued, but he was happier knowing she was secure while he himself slept. There was something incongruous about her and he couldn’t decide whether it was just her attitude or something more dangerous. Until he was certain of her identity she remained a threat. He could tie her up, although that seemed excessive given her size. Or he could give her more tincture and try again in the morning.
    He considered his options, recalled her tenacity and well-aimed fist and sought the discarded rope. Reaching out he gripped her wrists in one hand.
    “What are you doing?” she pulled away from him and he yanked her back.
    “What I should have done earlier,” he responded sharply as he deftly secured one end of the rope around her wrists and tied the other to the wooden beam supporting the roof.
    “How dare you,” she twisted wildly, whimpering with the pain in her leg and the frustration at being held captive. “You’ll regret this,” she spat at him.
    “Perhaps.” He withdrew the tincture, and avoiding her kicking feet with a raised hand, he offered it to her. “Do you want to fight the rope or fight the pain?”
    “I want to fight you.”
    His grimy, battled-scarred face broke into a wide grin. “Master the pain tonight and tomorrow I will happily meet the challenge.”
    Grace scowled. “Tomorrow you’ll take me back to Kirk Knowe ,” she muttered petulantly. “I demand that you do.”
    He was amused by her belief that she was in a position to demand anything.
    If she was from Kirk Knowe , as she insisted, that would