Page 59 of An Outlaw’s Desire

As Sherborne’s gaze shifted back to Blythe, Galven said: “She has a book of his lordship’s. I heard it has writings on local sites and legends.”

Interest gleamed in Sherborne’s eyes. “I would like to see it.”

Nay. Pitt stole a backward glance.

Her eyes blazing, Blythe held the tome tighter to her bosom. “You must ask Lord Montgomery first.”

“Not likely.” Sherborne tipped his chin to Galven. “Take it.”

The man-at-arms grabbed for the tome. With a harsh cry, Blythe wrenched to the side.

Hissing a breath, Sherborne stepped forward.

Sword raised, Pitt blocked him.

Now facing away from her, Pitt heard her struggling with the man-at-arms. She cried out, a sound of fury and pain, and Pitt’s conscience twisted. If she got hurt—even a scratch—Sherborne would pay.

His lordship scowled. “Move aside, Pitt.”

“I will not.”

“Do you wish harm upon Fenton? ’Twould take but a word from me.”

“You will not hurt him ever again.”

Sherborne’s gaze hardened. “The lady, then?”

“Bastard.” Fiery resolve licked through Pitt’s veins. He was finished being controlled by Sherborne. He was done being governed by his past.

With a roar, Sherborne lunged.

Blythe slapped at Galven’s grabbing hands.

“’Twill be best for you, milady, if you just hand over the book.”

Best for him, aye. Scowling, she refused to uncross her left arm locked over the tome. “I am not giving the book to you.” At the first opportunity, she’d kick the man-at-arms in his unmentionables and run. If she could get back to a busy part of the castle, folk would hear her screams.

The man made a tsking sound, just as the torchlight shifted: Pitt had tossed aside the burning reed. It lay near the wall.

The guard grabbed for the book again. His fingers brushed her breasts, and she gasped. “How dare you?”

“Milady—”

“Lord Montgomery will hear how you treated me.”

Unease etched Galven’s face. But, he caught hold of the book at its lower sides and yanked it toward him. She stumbled, jolted forward, but yanked it back.

Clang. Clang

Daring the barest glance toward the sound, she saw Pitt’s sword collide with Sherborne’s. Sparks flew. With the squeal of metal against metal, the blades locked. The fierceness of Pitt’s expression—

The tome jolted again in her hold—hard enough her teeth cracked together. Her gaze snapped back to the man-at-arms. He’d almost managed to pry the tome free.

The leather cover creaked, as though it might snap.

“Stop! You will damage it.”

Galven pulled harder.