The air seemed to burn in her lungs as every muscle in her body complained in sheer exhaustion.
She had run away.
She ran up the hill praying to reach the safety of the forest, abandoning the life they had decided for her without her consent. The future husband busy with the business had left his young wife in the care of an escort of soldiers who would never have imagined the unlikely situation.
Christina had just stared at Victor Valerius with infinite contempt. The unfortunate man was one of James de Macgrover's favourites and he enjoyed his complete confidence. In recognition of the services rendered by the captain of the guard, the earl had rewarded years of loyal service. He had granted his subordinate prosperous lands in Chabone in addition to his goddaughter's hand in marriage.
All-day she had watched the sea, following with interest the white sails of the ship that sailed towards the south of the island. It was the Black Coral. She would bet her life on it. Philip Morgan... despicable fellow... If it was still Rick she could turn to for help...
Valerius was a hateful man. He kept the horse at a canter, content to wear her out in that race. He hated this man to whom he had been handed over against his will. Macgrover's orders were unyielding. Even more so after he'd taken custody of his goddaughter and discovered the rumours going around in Garrone.
It was to be hoped that as a future viscountess and peer of the realm, she would have taken care of her reputation and not been the target of malicious gossip.
She didn't want to go back. Valerius' fury had been a terror to discover that the young wife had once belonged to another man.
She continued advancing through the dense trees of the forest until she reached the clearing.
Valerius had dismounted and was staring furiously into the forest.
Oh, sir! If he captured her, this time it wouldn't just be a few more punches. Nothing pleased that man. She tried unsuccessfully to contain the rebellion. Every time she disobeyed she was beaten until she passed out. The man was cruel and vindictive. She both hated him and feared him.
Christina struggled to breathe, not weak. She couldn't be that far from the gipsy village. She would have sanctuary there until she decided what to do.
Inevitably as she hid her mind was lost in the past. What her life would have been like if she could have trusted the man who had declared he loved her. Michael Morgan.
She was young and hadn't paid attention to any conventions. She could clearly remember the privateer's sight as he landed in the harbour at Corsair's Bay. She could hardly believe that man had sensed her presence. She had only to close her eyes to remember with infinite sadness. The nights of promises and passion...
All summer Christina had been in a torrid romance with the fearless privateer while the ship was docked in the harbour. She had decided to accept her lover's proposal against her father's wishes. And Michael had left, intending to ask the overlord of his family's lands to intervene, believing that the feud between the two families could perhaps be resolved with diplomacy. Christina hadn't liked to see him go, but a consummated marriage with legal vows would change her father's decision.
Nothing had gone as planned. Michael had never returned from that trip. Fearfully Christina listened to the rumours that the Black Coral was about to set sail. And Gaia... Some of her crew had been surprised and attacked by pirates, and some killed. Unfortunately, Michael Morgan was one of them.
She stared at her father, upset and incredulous. Michael dead? His hand fell protectively over her belly. Six weeks of romance left marks on the body that slowly transformed with the first few months of pregnancy.
The earl's unbridled rage knew no bounds. It was a miracle he hadn't lost the baby to the brutal beating thanks to the godfather's intervention. Only the child in all its despair had been born premature and dead.
There was no way she was going to marry Victor Valerius. Of noble and wealthy origin, the man at first was content to pay her court with visits and expensive gifts.
For the last month before the wedding, Valerius had been showing how a noble's wife should behave. Oh, Christina hated him. And she was terrified just remembering the physical assaults.
His ribs hurt after their last fight. Valerius didn't seem to have any problem submitting her to her authority for obedience.
-Christina, my love. I'm sorry you're angry with me. – Valerius' voice reached her ears.
She shivered, knowing that soon she would have to stop. She would need to get a mount, food, and money if she was going to escape. Perhaps the New World. Nobody would find her there.
With that thought, Christina took a deep breath and continued deeper into the forest. Vladimir... Maybe the gipsies...
It was already dark and the rain was still constant bringing cold, even so, the taverns were busy and noisy. It was said that a captain of a schooner selected hired servants to work in the New World. A period of ten or fifteen years of servitude to defray the expenses of travel and then freedom. The news that circulated was enthusiastic about the colonies in development and the facilities for restarting life.
That was a dream for anyone running away from Victor Valerius.
Christina sighed as she tugged the hood of the plain fabric tightly against the cold. One of the women in the tavern had been quite interested in changing her plain clothes for the silk dress she had once worn. None of this was going to matter any time soon. Some comments about the colonies were disheartening. From what she'd heard, Puritan women, in general, wore dark, closed colours. The few jewels she'd worn had guaranteed a small room in a dubious-looking tavern, but even so, she'd accepted it with resignation. They said the ship would leave in two days.
This time, if Valerius found her, it wouldn't be just a few punches or fun scaring her anymore. She didn't have any broken ribs, but his kicks had left her body bruised and sore all over. She worried about her face, though her loose hair hid the purplish stain and scratches along the healing gash above her ear where Valerius angrily slammed his head against the table. All she had to do was act calm, stay calm, and soon she would be free. No one there would be surprised by a humble peasant without relatives.
She repeated this to herself over and over as she walked the busy streets, ignoring the indecent proposals and the women in provocative clothes that entertained privateers and sailors who had just arrived in search of the Galo D Ouro tavern.
Her nervous handheld the knife hidden at her waist. The wet clothes left her chilled to the bone as she dodged insistent drunks and she began to quicken her steps. She had been walking for almost an hour, enduring hunger, cold without complaining. But in the last half hour, Christina had started to notice someone following her.
They couldn't be Valerius' men. The groom would never have imagined the despair and temerity of a well-bred lady from a noble family to venture into that part of the city destined for sailors.
God, there was nothing they could take that she wouldn't have already sold if they were burglars. Even more nervous, she quickened her steps, starting to impose distance and tried to take refuge from the insistent, cold rain. The figure that followed her seemed to have noticed that she had sensed her presence and disappeared. Christina, shivering with cold, crossed the quiet street and ventured down the dark, deserted alley to take a shortcut, listening apprehensively to the sound of her footsteps echoing in the silence.
Christina sighed as she turned around, relieved to see that she was alone. A relieved smile crossed her face. It was just nervous, tired and hungry. As soon as she found the Golden Rooster and signed the contract, she would return to the rented room and stay there until the moment of departure.
She hadn't realized in her distress that her pursuer had foreseen her initiative to lose him and suddenly blocked her way.
Christina expelled all the air from her lungs in one breath as she screamed, struggling to free herself from the arms that held her. Her clenched fists pounded the air in desperation to free herself, she slipped on the wet floor and screamed back, balancing herself precariously.
-Hell! Women better are quiet!- Michael grumbled angrily.
He was wet, tired, and for nearly an hour he had been roaming the city streets smelling the unmistakable sorcerer's scent. Damn it, Richard should have been the one to find the wife who had run away. He was an Inferno as Philip had resolved to destroy the pack.
-Get your hands off me! Let go of me now!- she screamed again, struggling with terror.
Michael was too busy defending his face from the sharp claw-like nails and cursing. It was another horrible night like the last two since Thalagar had taken Kassuim from camp. The frightened voice that screamed in his ears was by no means his sister-in-law's, but for all the damn it was a woman and he could smell the unfortunate scent of magic from miles away. For a supposedly extinct and persecuting species, he had been finding more of them than he would have liked.
-Lady, you better calm down!- he tried to support the girl.
She was still a very young girl. Her unfortunate cap prevented him from seeing the colour of her eyes. Except that no decent woman would be alone in that part of town near the docks if she weren't a real woman. Perhaps the night was not lost after all.
Christina tried to back away with clenched fists, hitting the tall man in front of her with mounting panic. Immediately, desperation stirred her instincts as she hit him hard in the groin with her knee.
Michael bellowed through his teeth as he dropped to his knees, wincing in excruciating pain, but still furiously, he grabbed the hem of the woman's dress as he pulled it without any delicacy.
She screamed again as she landed awkwardly and sprawled on top of him without hiding the palpable nervousness as she bumped into the unknown, ignoring all the ache in her aching muscles.
-Hell! Can you be quiet?" he roared.
Michael smothered several curses by muttering mentally, while the pain eased the discomfort and another all-too-familiar scent invaded his senses as he touched his pale skin. Apple and cinnamon. He was airily thinking of the sensation that the unknown girl brought to his mind, as her knee braced between her legs to immobilize her as she rolled over.
He was pretty sure he was losing his mind. It was heaven and hell. He covered her mouth with his hand, stifling new screams with total conviction that he was imagining things. Her body didn't agree with him. It wasn't possible. He was suddenly aroused and cursing through his teeth at the unwanted erection.
"My God! Chris?"