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A scream welled in Bria’s throat. A burning piece of wood landed beside her, making her leap to her feet.
Suddenly, from out of the black smoke, a dark shape emerged. It was the devil himself, his eyes glowing red. She reared back, but he caught her arm and hauled her into the smoke and the burning walls.
Chapter fourteen
Bria clenched her eyes tight against the smoke and a blast of hot air assaulted her face. Then, suddenly, a cool mist sprayed her forehead, her cheeks, her neck. She opened her eyes and found herself outside the burning tent, standing in the light rain. She coughed harshly, gasping for breath.
It was a long moment before she was able to lift her watery eyes to the dark shape standing at her side, a moment longer before she realized the man who stood before her, lit from behind by a dancing red light that could come only from the fire, was Terran Knowles.
Her fogged mind pieced together the quick turn of events leading her here, and she finally whispered in shock, “You saved me.”
His dark eyes narrowed. “And you burned my tents.”
His accusation came as a blow and her mouth dropped open. Then her brows drew together as her anger reared, her narrowed eyes matching his. “What would I be doing in your tents if I set fire to them?”
“Caught in your own trap,” he snapped.
Hurt and disbelief constricted her chest. How could he believe that after the kiss they’d shared? With a snarl of frustration, Bria attempted to turn away, but was stopped short by a shackle-grip on her arm. His large hand was wrapped around her forearm. She turned her gaze to meet his furious eyes. “Let me go,” she commanded, trying to break free, but his grip was tight, his large fingers digging into her flesh.
“So you can try to poison my drink or hire someone to kill me?”
“I did not try to kill you.”
His eyes narrowed even further. “No. Killing me wouldn’t achieve your goal.”
“What are you talking about?” Bria demanded, stilling her vain attempts to free herself.
“The papers. That’s why you set fire to the tents.”
“What papers?” Bria asked.
“The betrothal papers,” he snarled. “You hoped the papers would be gone, too, burned with the tents.”
“What betrothal papers?” Bria demanded, confused.
“These papers.” He reached inside his black tunic and produced two sheets of parchment that he held in a clenched fist. He pushed them at her, leaning close to her face to growl, “You didn’t think I’d be stupid enough to let them out of my sight, did you?”
Bria stared at the papers. Betrothal papers. No wonder all of the other suitors had left without so much as a word.
Terran stepped back from her, releasing her arm. He quickly put the betrothal papers back inside his tunic, sheltering them from the rain.
A shiver raced along her shoulders as she looked into his black eyes. Those are the eyes that showed no emotion when you tried to tell him of Mary’s murder by his dog of a sheriff, she reminded herself. Her gaze dropped to his lips. But those are the lips that kissed you with such warmth and passion.
“Bria!’ a voice called from behind her.
Bria forced herself to turn away from Terran to see her grandfather racing toward her across the fields as fast as his old legs would carry him. He lost his balance and fell to one knee a few feet from her. For a moment, Bria couldn’t move. Shock held her immobile. How could she marry Terran? How could part of her want to?
Harry’s gaze remained on her as he knelt in the mud, and for a moment he looked like a penitent man, begging for her forgiveness. Then he scrambled to his feet, reaching for her. He grasped her arms desperately. “Are you all right?”
Bria nodded, searching his eyes for answers.
“Since our tents have been so grievously ruined, I’m sure Lord Delaney will have no objection to our staying inside Castle Delaney,” Terran said from behind Bria.
Harry looked up at him, his mouth open as if in objection, but no words came forth.
“Good.” Terran marched away from them toward the castle. Two servants followed him, as well as the men he had arrived with. All glared at Bria as they passed.
When they were well away from them, Harry swept Bria into his arms. “Bria,” he whispered as he held her tightly against him, “I never meant... you could have been killed.”
