Page 76 of Bound to a Warrior
The brave soldier stood and bowed. “M’lady, your father the king wishes your safe return. Please come with us.”
Mercy couldn’t see Duncan’s face, but she felt his body tense solid and if the glares Reeve and Trey sent her were any indication of Duncan’s reaction…she was in trouble.
Chapter 23
Mercy had hoped she could slip away before her identity had become known. Now that it had she had no choice but to bargain for Duncan and his family’s safety. She kept her courage strong as she told the young soldier, “Tell my father that unless he can guarantee the safety of this family and land that I will not be returning home.”
Duncan’s voice suddenly boomed from behind her. “Tell the king his daughter will never be returning home. She belongs to me now…Duncan MacAlpin.”
“You wish to ransom her?” the soldier asked.
“Clean your ears out, you fool,” Reeve yelled. “Did you hear any mention of a ransom?”
“I don’t understand,” the soldier said.
Duncan wrapped his fingers around Mercy’s and raised their chained wrists high. “The king gave her to me and I plan on keeping her.”
“The king did no—”
Duncan didn’t let him finish. “The king wanted her dead. Now he changes his mind and wants her back.” He shook his head. “No. She stays here with me.”
“I shall inform the king,” the soldier said.
“Make sure you do,” Duncan warned.
The soldier turned and helped one of his fallen comrades to his feet before disappearing into the woods. Warriors arrived then, following the ragtag bunch to make certain not one lingered.
When Reeve and Trey lowered their heads and walked away, she knew it had been by Duncan’s silent command. She had expected he would want to speak with her about this right away and she couldn’t blame him. She only hoped he understood.
She wanted to face him and discuss the matter and he must have had the same idea for his hands settled snug on her waist and with a lift and a twist she was suddenly sitting sideways in his lap, his arm snug around her.
She spoke first. “I’m the king’s bastard daughter.”
“And you didn’t think it was important to tell me that?”
There was no anger or accusation in his tone. However, Mercy thought she heard disappointment.
“You were a stranger—”
“Not for long,” he said.
“True,” she agreed, “but I believed it best for us both if my identity remained unknown.”
“Perhaps at first I could see the reason in that, but not later,” he said. “You should have trusted me.”
“I did—” She shook her head. “I do trust you.”
“Not enough to tell me who you really are.”
“You know who I am better than anyone.”
“I thought I did,” he said.
She tensed and raised her chin. “Being the king’s bastard daughter has little to do with who I really am. I revealed my true self to you. If you cannot see that, then you are a fool.” She had to stop a moment and swallow down the catch in her throat. And then with courage she wasn’t sure she had, she said, “It’s time for this chain to come off.”
They exchanged not a word on the return ride and when they stopped at the smithy, a mix of emotions rose up to choke her. She wanted to be free of the chain, but she didn’t want to be free of Duncan and she feared that just might happen.
Harry, the smithy, was short and round and strong as an ox. He examined the metal cuffs and the thick chain, scratched his partially bald head and looked them over again.
