Page 86 of A Knight’s Reward

“Be… ware,” he wheezed. “R⁠—”

The closest thug kicked him. Dominic groaned.

“Stop!” Gisela shrieked. “You have wounded him enough.”

The two men looked at each other and chortled.

More voices drifted in from the open doorway. There were other lackeys outside. Standing guard. Or waiting for instructions.

God above, she would fight them.

Easing away from Dominic, she rose to her feet and faced Crenardieu. “Why did you injure Dominic and bring him here? Is this your idea of a cruel jest, to mistreat a man so?” Her voice shook with rage. “Whatever you want from me, I will not cooperate.”

Crenardieu’s face twisted into a leer. “Really?”

“Really.” Despite the fear churning inside her, she glared at him. “If you want the blue silk, you will leave now. Dominic stays with me. You will not harm him again. Do you understand?”

Her body trembled with the vehemence of her words.

Crenardieu raised his eyebrows and laughed. “I do admire your spirit. Especially”—his gaze slid to her right breast—“after all you have been through.”

Her breath jammed in her lungs. Foreboding rushed from her scalp to her feet, leaving a ghastly chill in its wake. How did he know about her scar? How?

With a pained moan, Dominic struggled to stand. “Gisela. Rrr⁠—”

The two men yanked him to his feet, just as rough laughter carried from outside.

That laugh.

It tormented her in nightmares. It woke her in the night. It wove into every glimmer of her dreams.

Oh, God. Oh, God!

Her breathing became a frantic wheeze. Bile flooded her mouth. An eerie whistling sound filled her ears.

“Oui, Gisela. I vow there is one man who will make you cooperate,” Crenardieu said.

She watched, paralyzed with terror, as a tall, silver-haired man stepped into her shop.

Ryle.

CHAPTER 15

His body racked with pain, Dominic registered being bound and tossed belly-down across the back of a stationary horse. Gritting his teeth so tightly his jaw popped, the sweetish odor of horse burning his nostrils, he stared down at the ground. Or, what would be the dirt and stones of the town road if he could bloody well see like an owl in the dark.

Fighting intense dizziness, he slowly inhaled and exhaled. After dragging him out of Gisela’s shop shortly after Ryle’s entrance, the thugs had tied Dominic’s hands behind his back. The rope bit into his wrists, mocking any intentions of escape. The bastards had also tied his legs—below the knees and at his booted ankles.

Anger burned. He welcomed the rage, fed it with every ounce of his remaining strength. He would break free from his bonds. He would knock the thugs’ heads together, and then pummel Crenardieu with the same enthusiasm his men had shown Dominic.

After dealing with them, he’d return to Gisela and rescue her and Ewan from Ryle. Like the knight Ewan—his son—envisioned him to be, he would be victorious. Never again would Gisela live in fear of her former husband.

He remembered the moment she saw Ryle. The utter horror that had filled her eyes and turned her face skull white would haunt Dominic forever.

I will fight your dragon, Gisela, despite his fangs, wings, and claws. Even if it means my death. This, I promise you.

Regret lashed at him, more painful than the ropes binding him, for he’d not been able to spare her from facing the brutal bastard again. Ah, but he had tried. Spurred by a tremendous surge of fury, he had lunged straight for Ryle. Dizziness had slowed his reactions, and Crenardieu’s lackeys had quickly subdued him.

He couldn’t wait to trounce them in return!