A Knight of Passion - By Tarah Scott Page 0,19
handed the sconce to Sir Dunbar, then crossed to the corner the warden had indicated and deftly pressed a spot on the wall. The stone began a slow swing inwards.
“Quickly,” he said, when the opening was large enough for them to fit through, and waved them in.
Sir Dunbar entered first, then Bryant, with Riana tight against his chest.
“I can walk,” she said as the priest followed them into the passageway and closed the door.
“Aye,” Bryant replied, “but this will be quicker.”
They started forward, Dunbar in the lead.
“If you faint from the fatigue of carrying me,” she said, “I will leave you where you fall.”
“If I faint from the fatigue of carrying you, I deserve to be left where I fall.”
She didn’t entwine her arms around his neck as she had earlier, but left them crossed over her breasts.
“Though I might drop you,” he said.
“I doubt that,” she said in a dry voice.
Bryant couldn’t repress a laugh. “You will make an interesting wife.”
“I will not.”
They reached a junction in the tunnel.
“To the right,” Father Vaughn said, and they turned as instructed.
They travelled in silence for minutes, until a faint clanking sound broke the quiet. They halted and looked at one another.
“Could they have discovered us so soon?” Bryant asked in a whisper.
“I would not think so,” Father Vaughn said.
“You do not know the duchess,” Riana said.
“Perhaps not,” Bryant replied, “but she is not here.”
The priest motioned them forward. “It is not much farther.”
They hurried down the corridor. A moment later, the unmistakable voice of a man filtered towards them. Riana’s head snapped up.
“Make a sound, and we all die,” Sir Bryant warned.
“Faster,” Father Vaughn urged, and broke into a run.
Sir Dunbar raced forward and Bryant followed. Riana threw her arms around his neck and buried her face in his chest. A moment later they reached a stone wall. Father Vaughn pressed the fifth stone from the bottom, and the stone slowly opened. A sliver of sunlight appeared on the floor. Sir Dunbar placed the sconce fire-first into the holder. The light died. Dim light streamed into the room.
“Let me look first,” the priest said. He edged to the door and peered around the wall left and right, then looked back at them. “Follow me.”
Dunbar went first, glancing both ways, then nodded for Bryant to follow. Bryant stepped from the tunnel. He squinted against the morning sunlight, muted as it was, seeping through dark clouds. The cover of trees lay a few feet from the keep. Father Vaughn closed the door and motioned them to follow.
“Release me now and I will not implicate you in this crime,” Riana said.
Sir Dunbar barely stifled his laughter.
“Make another sound,” Sir Bryant warned, “and I will gag you until we reach Chilgoriam.”
Five minutes later, they entered the small chapel on the west side of the village. Bryant set Riana’s feet on the wooden floor.
Chapter Ten
Riana stepped away from Sir Bryant as the priest closed the chapel door, then turned and approached where the three stood.
Riana stepped towards him. “Father Vaughn, I have no intention of marrying this man.”
He halted in front of them and gave Sir Bryant a questioning look.
Sir Bryant grasped her shoulders and turned her to face him. “There is only one reason the duchess would send men-at-arms for you.”
“Aye,” Riana replied. “She knows you have kidnapped me.”
“Nay. She knows I have come for you. You will not escape this time, Riana, nor will your sister.”
“How dare you?” She tried to twist free, but he tightened his fingers on her shoulders.
“The moment you rode through the gates of the prison, your life was forfeit.”
She gave a morbid laugh. “My life was forfeit the moment I entered Arundel.”
“Think,” he said. “I can protect you, dower your sister, even break down every brick of the prison to rescue Glen for you.”
She stared. “You are indeed mad if you expect me to believe this fantasy.”
“Is it so impossible to believe a man could want you?”
A rush of memory assaulted her—Stuart’s smile when he had asked for her hand in marriage, the gentle way his fingers caressed her sex that day in the field, his lingering kiss the day he had left. She choked back a sob.
“Riana.”
Sir Bryant’s face snapped into focus.
She pulled free of his hold. “You cannot prevail against the duchess.”
“Indeed?” The steel in his voice sent a chill down her back.
“How can you possibly wrest my sister from the duke?” Riana demanded.
“Once we are married, I will bring her under my protection.”
“My stepfather will never