Page 40 of Keeping Kate
“A moment.” Alec fetched the satchel he had earlier deposited on the floor, and reached in to withdraw part of the chain.
“No,” she said warily, backing away.
“You could too easily escape from the public room.” He stood, chain in hand.
She stepped backward again. “I cannot go downstairs chained like a prisoner. I am your—wife, remember. Your bride. Are you such a cad as that?”
“Miss Kate,” he said, stepping forward while she pressed against the door. “You are a prisoner of the crown.”
“I am Mistress Fraser here in this place, so you told them yourself. You would not bring your bride to a public room in chains.”
“Likely not,” he said amiably. “But then, you are not really my bride, are you?” He took her right wrist. She pulled away. “Very well,” he said then. “But as a reminder, these are here, and I will use them if it seems necessary.”
“It is not. I gave you my promise.”
“So you did.”
She watched him in fuming silence as he turned away, dropping the chain and manacles back into the sack. Then he straightened, a length of thin rope in his hand. “We will use this instead. I am sorry, lass,” he said, returning to take her hand, looping the rope around her slender wrist. Then he pulled a simple knot and tied the rest of the length around his own wrist. He tugged down his cuff and pulled her sleeve, long enough to cover it, down over the rope wound about her wrist as well.
“You are a beast,” she said.
“If you cannot escape, you will have no problem keeping your word.”
“I thought you trusted me after I gave my word.” She yanked on the rope.
“I want to. I do,” he said. “Listen to me, my girl, and understand. I have no interest in shaming you. But I need to keep you in one place. We will share the bonds. You hold me as securely as I hold you. How is that?”
“That,” she said, “is horrid.”
He took her hand, rope between them, and wove his fingers with hers. A lover’s grasp, warm and secure—and yet the opposite. “Then tell me why you came to my tent that night, who sent you, and your given name. You might gain more freedom of me.”
“I brought clean linens. The washerwomen in the camp sent me,” she said, leaning close to him, eyes snapping, “and you know my name.”
“I intend to enjoy our meal together, Marie Katherine,” he said, “and our bed should be cozy tonight as well.” He tugged on the rope, aware that he might tug on her spirit a little too. He regretted it. He truly did.
“So soon as you close your eyes tonight, I will untie this bond.”
“My dear girl,” he said, reaching for the door handle. “I am hungry, and I am going downstairs. Which means you will come too.”
She huffed in protest but followed him into the hallway.
