Love's Odyssey Read Online Free

felt the cart lurch as he started off again.
    Well! What right did he have to tell her what she must do? She'd get out of the cart this very minute and—what? The brandy warmed her now, but she'd felt a chill when she saw the soldiers--The King's Men. Suddenly, all that had happened at Three Oaks burst into her mind, and she moaned in protest.
    Sir Thomas dead, struck down from behind by John Burnet. Murdered by King Charles's command. Then, Adrien—yes, that was the man's name—Adrien Montgomery had killed Burnet. With her help. They'd run from the soldiers to the stables. After that, she didn't know what had happened. How did Adrien get away? Where were they headed?
    Damn the wench! Adrien thought as he hauled the heavy cart over the uneven cobblestones of the narrow street leading to the harbor. If he hadn't interfered, John Burnet would have taken her, soon lost his taste for her. She'd have been none the worse, and he wouldn't have been in this mess--a fugitive in danger of losing his head.
    But, no, he couldn't have stood aside. The girl—what had she called herself?—Romell, that was it. Once she bit Burnet's ear half off, the damage was done. After he had satisfied his lust, Burnet would have carried out his threat to let the executioner crop her ears.
    Adrien grimaced. Plague take such acts! It turned his stomach to think of the executioner mutilating those who displeased the king. Beheading was different, though he wanted none of it--death, at least, had a certain dignity.
    I hope the brandy quiets her, Adrien thought. If I can get us to the docks without attracting too much notice, there'll be a ship to board and we'll be safe. Not that I relish the thought of our destination. France, now, there's the place to wait out the king's displeasure in friendly comfort, whereas Holland— He shook his head. The Dutch made dull company.
    If Romell hadn't cracked her skull at the stables, he would have put her aboard a ship for Amsterdam and taken himself off to France. But she needed him to guide her to the relatives she'd spoken of. What would those Dutch relations make of such a wanton? Adrien grinned. Likely regret the blood tie, he decided. Certainly Romell couldn't be considered dull, whatever else he might think of her.
    He didn't blame Burnet for lusting after her, with that glorious red-brown hair setting off her fair skin, those hot brown eyes that promised an enticing abandonment, the rounded breasts that made a man hunger to put his mouth to them. . . 
    Damn, he was likely to lose his head over her, one way or another. Get the wench to Holland and leave her, Montgomery, he warned himself. Don't get involved.
    When had Sir Thomas begun to bed her? The man was said to have become a recluse after his wife died a year ago, when he'd incurred King Charles's displeasure by openly calling in a Roman priest for the funeral service. Sir Thomas had fooled them all, holed up at Three Oaks with this young beauty.
    Romell must be gently bred, for although she had an accent, it was not an ill-educated one. He would never have expected to see a girl lift a sword to defend her man as she had in the great hall at Three Oaks. She'd showed spirit and courage, and yet she was so deliciously feminine.
    Enough of this, Adrien told himself. Think of your own skin. What's to do while you're in exile from England? Where's the money to come from? William, his half brother, wouldn't send a shilling once he knew Adrien was in disfavor at court. Expenses in France would run high. He had no taste for hiring out as a mercenary. What, then?
    Sometimes he regretted that he hadn't sailed for the East Indies with Lawrence Hughes three years ago. Word had come back that Larry was doing well in Sumatra, despite the Dutch stranglehold on the Indies.
    But when Hughes sailed in 1637, King Charles had seemed to be pulling the country together. Everyone was piling up riches, and even Adrien and William were getting along passably well.
    Adrien