Page 8 of The Warrior’s Forbidden Virgin

A twinge of guilt pricked him, for he hadn’t told Katherine everything he’d learned. According to the seneschal, Nicholas of Ardennes had indeed granted John permission to escort Honora back to Ceredys.

By any means necessary.

The earl was furious with Honora for ruining Katherine’s marriage hopes, and this was her punishment. Though Ademar couldn’t understand why Lord Ardennes would turn his back upon his eldest daughter, he would do his best to free Honora. With any luck, no one would be hurt.

As he moved toward Honora's window, he overheard her speaking to the guard.

“I am cold,” she murmured. “Might I put on another gown?”

He'd never heard Honora use such a soft tone, as if she were helpless. His instincts tightened with wariness, for he suspected she was about to do something reckless. He remained to the side of the window, and the shutters were open slightly. He could see the guard tossing her a bundle of clothes. Honora unwrapped the bundle, sorting through the garments until she chose a linen overdress.

“Turn your back, please,” she begged the guard. “You’ve no need to watch me dress.”

Ademar was about to interrupt, but then he saw the guard obey. Now what was she planning to do? Honora twisted the linen gown tightly, and he realized what her intentions were. But he doubted if she had the strength—only the element of surprise. She kept her footsteps light, and then suddenly, she sprang forward and wrapped the garment around the guard’s throat. Twisting it tight, she attempted to suffocate him.

The guard clawed at his throat, gripping the linen. He was struggling hard, but Honora had a tight enough grip that the man was losing air fast. Ademar wasn't about to wait, so he kicked the shutters open.

The moment he did, Honora turned in shock. “What are you doing?” Her dark hair was cut short against her neck, and it stood out in wild disarray.

Ademar swung inside the chamber, holding on to the rope. He saw Honora’s guard lying unconscious on the floor, along with a length of linen wrapped around the man’s throat. “Your sister sent me. She thought you might need help.”

“Why didn’t you alert my father?”

There was a desperation in Honora’s eyes, and Ademar struggled to find the right words. He didn’t want to admit the truth. Honora was distraught enough without him revealing that her own father had advocated such a punishment.

“This way was ah—that is to say, I found it would be . . . m-more interesting. Get you out without anyone kn-knowing about it.” He glared down at the floor, wishing he could have explained himself without sounding quite so foolish.

“More interesting?”

“Less trouble. And, no—no one gets hurt.” His cheeks burned, and he hoped she would hurry up and take the rope. There wasn’t much time before John would return.

Honora looked uneasy. “How do you suggest I get down?”

“I’ll help you . . . to the battlements,” he said. “We need to move now.”

Though she reached for the rope, terror lined her face. “I’d rather fight the guards outside the door.”

As if in answer to her comment, the door started to open. Ademar slammed his weight against it, and ordered, “Go!”

She wasn’t moving fast enough, and he didn’t know how much longer he could keep the guards from entering. He struggled to bar the door. “Swing toward the battlements. You’ll find what you need to g-get out of the castle.”

He gritted his teeth and finally managed to lower the bar amidst the pounding of the soldiers. “Ewan will b-be miles from here by now.”

Honora crawled through the window, balancing on the sill before she reached for the rope once more. Glancing back at him, she sent him a thankful smile. “You’re a true hero, Sir Ademar.”

He didn’t answer, for his motives weren’t at all innocent. He’d done this for Katherine to fulfill a vow—and because he wanted to please her. He made certain the rope was steady for Honora and watched her lower herself down. Only when she was dressed in the armor did he turn back.

Damn. The fallen guard had regained consciousness. Before he could stop him, the man lifted the bar and opened the door. Ademar had only a moment to unsheathe his sword before John’s men came pouring inside the chamber.

Chapter Three

Katherine’s arms burned with the effort, but she managed to lower herself down the rope. When she neared John’s chamber, she heard the clanging of swords and the sounds of fighting.

Oh, saints. When she glanced inside the window, she saw Ademar surrounded by three men, two more fallen at his feet. John was not among them, and she prayed he would not find her sister.

Like a berserker, Ademar swung his sword at his enemies, blow for blow. Katherine slipped inside, keeping her back to the wall and her eyes upon the men. She needed a weapon of her own, some way to help him.

Her gaze fell upon the soldier closest to her. He spied her and reached out, likely planning to use her as a hostage. Katherine threw herself to the floor, rolling under his feet to trip him. When his sword slipped free of his palm, she reached for it.