His Bonnie Bride Hannah Howell (e reader comics TXT) 📖

first stumbling block. A one-man watch had been set out, and, although leisurely in his patrol, he was alert. He was also too awkwardly placed to knock out. Nodding to Phelan and hoping he would catch on, Storm shed her cap and stepped boldly forward.

The guard gaped at the apparition before him. Despite the dirty face and male attire, he knew a pretty wench when he saw one. New to work at Hagaleah, he did not know Lord Eldon's daughter when he saw her. Holding his sword at the ready, he edged toward her.

"Who be ye?"

"No one of importance. I seek to avoid the battle."

"Discard all yer weapons."

"I have none. Shall I prove it to you?"

With enticing deliberation, she began to unlace her tunic, then her breeches, calmly watching his lust blind his good judgment. Both items fell open to reveal glowing skin, but she knew she must do more. Swallowing her shame, she slowly bared her breasts. A guttural cry escaped the guard as he dropped his sword and lunged. Storm hit the ground with a breath-robbing thud, but an instant later she was free of the weight. Phelan had understood, knocked the guard out and pulled him off of her.

Tucking her hair back inside her cap, Storm watched Phelan finish tying and gagging the man. "I hope he is the only one."

"Aye." Phelan collected his club. "Let us be on our way to Tavis."

"I only pray that we are in time."

Chapter Nineteen

Rescue was something that Tavis found himself fervently praying for. He had not expected any sort of risky sortie, but now he wished for one. Briefly he had wished that the trade had been made, but only briefly, for nothing would induce him to put Storm into the hands of the man who stood before him, not even the bone-chilling terror of the threat Hugh now made.

Still reeling from a flogging, his arms still strapped to the posts, he had glared at Sir Hugh as the man had stepped in front of him. He had thought he would be cut down, if only to be allowed to rest so that he would be strong enough to survive another beating. All his muscles had contracted when the knife Sir Hugh held had nudged his groin. Now a cold sweat came out on his skin, stinging his wounds, but he struggled to give no sign of his very real terror as he continued to glare at a sweetly smiling Sir Hugh.

" 'Tis surely a crime for a lowly border Scot to possess such as Storm Eldon," Hugh mused aloud. "Do you know the quality of the blood in the lady's veins?"

"Nay. It wasnae that I was interested in." Tavis winced inwardly as the knife pressed against him.

"This arrogant fellow has been delving in and out of some of the best stock in all of England."

"And weel he has enjoyed it." This time Sir Hugh drew a little blood, and Tavis swallowed his terror.

"So should have. The young Eldons trace their lineage back to the Conqueror, to Saxon and Irish kings. 'Tis far too rich a mixture for a Scot to be enjoying. What, by sweet heaven, are you doing here, Mary?" he growled when that lady stepped up to his side.

Tavis studied the infamous Lady Mary Eldon and saw nothing that he liked. She was beautiful, with a body any man would want, but her eyes revealed her soul, and that was pure filth. He watched her relieve Sir Hugh of his knife and begin to cut him down. Her nearness only sickened him, but he hid it well. He felt certain she could prove as great, if not greater, a danger to him than Sir Hugh if she was angered.

"Your little games can wait awhile." As two guards quickly bound Tavis's free hands, she purred, "I have need of you now. Let him sweat over his fate for a while."

As Tavis was led to the edge of the camp, he heard Hugh growl, "You do not fool me. I know why you wish his punishment delayed. Have you ne'er had a Scot before?"

Leading him to the tent, Mary replied, "Nay, but I surely intend to ere dawn comes."

From where he was set, Tavis had a clear view inside the tent. The entrance was turned away from the rest of the camp, with one flap turned up to allow for fresh air. He had the feeling they were in dire need of that. There were nearly a dozen people inside, twice as many men as women, and few of them were dressed. The unintentional voyeurism brought him an initial surge of desire as he watched a brown-skinned woman shed her robe, kneel before a young, nearly beautiful man sprawled upon some cushions and begin to leisurely pleasure him with her mouth. That waned as the pair became a trio, then a quartet, until there was a veritable tangle of naked bodies.

"Aye, it soon loses its attraction," the guard at his side grumbled, and Tavis nodded.

It was awhile before Lady Mary, wearing a revealing robe, strolled over to Tavis. She knelt before him, her eyes greedy. Here was a man, and it enraged her that Storm had such a lover. Lady Mary fully intended to sample his skill and virility before Sir Hugh ended it. Her tongue ran over her lips, revealing her hunger to taste such lean, muscular perfection. She was unaware of the eyes that watched her from the enshadowed wood, unaware of how close she came to dying had not Phelan restrained Storm.

Placing her hand upon his manhood, she purred, "The gentleman is at rest for the moment."

"It only salutes a lady," Tavis said coldly, flinching when her caressing hand brought a sharp pain.

"You should be careful, Scotsman. I could be your only chance to save this poor fellow. Come with me now and let me show you how a woman handles a man. You have tasted but a child, who could not begin to appreciate