His Conquest Read Online Free

you down. For that I am sorry. How much longer do you think you can continue?”
    The sincerity of her words caught him off guard, but he needed not her sympathy. “Nay doubt my ability to travel if need be.”
    “I never doubt men like you.”
    Unsure whether she paid him a compliment, he ignored her claim. Her opinion mattered little. After he delivered her to the Highlands, he would never see her again.
    The candle sputtered.
    “Halt.” Seathan shot her a warning look, shielded the candle with his free hand. The flame trembled, then grew. The wavering light barely illuminated a foot before them. Though he didn’t want her to see his weakening, his need to ensure she didn’t bolt swayed his decision.
    He reached for her.
    She stepped out of range. Within the cast of yellowed light, outrage sparked in her gaze. “You believe holding me is necessary?”
    “Aye.” Her defiance intrigued him. He stepped forward, caught her hand. “I will take no chances until the castle walls are far behind us.” Then, when it came to her, he would still use caution. Though truth rang in her words, questions about her motive sat ill within his mind.
    On a frustrated sigh, she relaxed her hand within his. “There are several dangerous twists ahead. They must be taken with care.”
    He raised the candle. “Lead the way.”
    An order given, Linet mused, by a man comfortable with taking the lead regardless of the task. But in this, they shared the same goal—to escape. She started forward, and Lord Grey kept pace at her side.
    A rat scurried before them, then disappeared into the darkness. They skirted shards of pottery strewn around the next bend.
    “Breac Castle is a Scottish stronghold. Or was,” Lord Grey said.
    “So I was informed,” she replied, well aware the Scot but probed for information. Linet neglected to add that the transfer had occurred twelve years past, when King Edward had seized Breac Castle and bestowed it upon her father for his staunch support of the crown.
    Except a year later, with the death of Queen Margaret, the Maid of Norway, who was pledged to marry King Edward’s heir, Edward of Cavernarvon, division had cut through Scotland.
    She remembered her father’s disgust for those of unworthy lineage who had come forward claiming ’twas their birthright to gain the throne. Then, how her father had placed himself within the English king’s eye by backing Robert Bruce, lord of Annandale, in his bid to claim the Scottish throne.
    Linet was proud of her father’s stand, for supporting what he believed was just. The past few years had exposed King Edward’s true ambition, not to ensure that Scotland gained a king, but to become its sovereign.
    After the capture and sack of Berwick, the Battle of Dunbar, then King John’s submission to King Edward, the English ruler had achieved his goal.
    Her father believed in a fair hand, something the English sovereign seemed to overlook.
    Sadness swept her as she remembered the people slaughtered for King Edward’s self-serving goal. Thank God her father and mother had not lived to see the town of Berwick razed, including every man, woman, and child. And once the massacre had ended, English knights had torched the tragic heap.
    The senseless slaughter still burned in her heart. How could any man lust for power enough to take a life, especially that of an innocent child? She might forgive many things, but never that.
    King Edward had dared claim the sack of Berwick a victory, but in her heart, he had delivered much more than war against the Scots.
    But desecration.
    Had her father suspected King Edward’s dark plans to conquer Scotland? If so, it made sense that he’d kept his belief a secret.
    A secret he’d never shared with Fulke—a son who held in esteem the English king and his caustic methods of gaining power, a son who shared the English king’s trait of greed. Characteristics she despised.
    She slid a covert glance toward Lord Grey—a rebel who opposed King