against the stones.
Several panicked heartbeats later, she felt tugging on the rope and realized she was still alive. They were pulling her up.
At the top of the wall, hands reached out, grabbing arms and skirts, pulling her to safety. Richard held her up by her arms, otherwise she would have collapsed. Men, voices she didn’t recognize were telling Richard to check for injuries.
The only things that hurt were her pride and her right arm, from slamming into the stones. She felt as Richard squeezed her forearms checking for broken bones. He tilted her head every which way, looking for cuts or bruises.
Apparently satisfied that nothing was broken, he didn’t so much as grunt as he picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder.
Aeschene’s stomach clenched with fear. “Och!” she exclaimed. “I can walk!”
Her protests fell on deaf ears.
She felt him crouch low and duck through what she assumed was an open window. Heavy footfalls across a wooden floor, then the sound of a door being flung open.
Oh, he was angry, of that, she had no doubt. “Richard,” she protested loudly as he stormed down a long, dimly lit corridor. “Please, put me down.”
Her protests were met with more furious silence.
As he descended a spiral staircase, her head bobbed up and down like a cork in rough waters. His broad, muscular shoulder dug into her stomach with each angry step he took. Apparently, he was filled with too much anger to care if he was hurting her or not.
Another door was opened, down a few steps, across what she believed to be a stone floor from the sound of his boots as they thundered across it. She had no idea where they were or where they were headed.
Soon, he was carrying her up a flight of steps and down a short corridor. “Where are ye takin’ me?” she demanded to know. Still no response.
A moment later, he was pushing open another door and stepping through. He kicked it closed with the bottom of his foot before tossing her onto a bed. She was quite certain this was his private bedchamber and not the room she shared with Marisse.
Her heart pounded as blood throbbed in her ears. Instinctively, and from the way he was pacing back and forth, she knew he was beyond angry. Deciding it best not to speak yet, she sat up on the bed, her legs dangling over the edge, and she waited.
“Do ye realize how close ye came to dyin’ this day?” His voice, low and deep and laced with fury turned her skin to gooseflesh.
Of course she knew. She was not a simpleton. But pointing that out at the moment did not seem a wise course to take. “Aye,” she murmured. Her hands were trembling, so she shoved them under her legs so he couldn’t see. She wasn’t about to cower.
“What in God’s eyes were ye thinkin’?” he ground out.
Taking in a deep breath, she tried to explain. “I needed to see ye.”
“See me?” he asked incredulously.
“Aye,” she replied with a nod. “I was bloody angry with ye.”
Although she couldn’t see him, she imagined he looked astonished. He let out a frustrated breath. “If ye needed to see me, why did ye not send for me? Ye could have been killed!”
Pointing out they had already established that fact also seemed unwise.
“God’s teeth, woman! That was the most dull-witted and foolish thing I have ever seen anyone do!”
He threw his hands up in the air and stepped away. Aeschene heard him pour water into a basin and ring out a cloth. “I have never,” he began, his teeth all but gnashing together, “seen anyone ever take such a dangerous chance as that.”
Aeschene could not deny that it was not one of her more stellar or intelligent decisions. “I was angry with ye.”
She could see the blurry movement of his hand going up to his forehead. “What the bloody hell for?” he asked sharply, as he took a few steps toward her.
“Because ye lied.”
In two quick strides, he was standing so close their knees touched, his face close enough to hers she could feel his hot breath on her skin. “What did ye say?” His words were clipped and brimming with unveiled anger. There was no mistaking just how furious he was.
“I said ye lied to me,” she replied, just as angry and frustrated as he was.
“Pray tell, what do ye believe I lied about?”
He leaned in even closer, no more than an inch from her face. ’Twas