His Lady Mistress

12 His Lady MistressDazed, Verity stared up at her captor, but the moon hadfled and a tall, menacing shadow filled her vision. She triedto speak, but her throat, swollen with crying, seized, and allthat came out was a choking sound.‘Go on! Go and rob another grave!’Her limbs would not move. Helpless, she watched as theshadow leaned down and jerked her to her feet. Both herwrists were imprisoned in a one-handed grip. Another handflung back her hood just as the fickle moon slid out again.She stared up, but the moon was behind him and his faceremained shadowed.‘God in heaven!’ The grip on her wrists slackened at onceand she staggered, only to find herself held in a far morealarming captivity with the stranger’s arm around her waist.‘You’re a girl, a child! What the devil are you doing out here?Who are you?’She forced her voice past the choking terror. ‘I...I’m Verity.Verity Scott. He...he...’ Sobs closed her throat again.‘Verity? Then...you’re his daughter.’ The harshness vanished,replaced by horror and compassion. ‘What were youthinking of? You should never have come here! How old areyou, for God’s sake?’ A shaking hand pushed wet, bedraggledstrands of hair back from her face in clumsy tenderness.‘F...fifteen.’‘Fifteen?! Oh, hell!’She had no will to struggle when he pulled her against himand wrapped his arms around her. Despair and exhaustionsapped her strength and she leaned into him gratefully. Hehad laid her father to rest with all gentleness possible andgiven him part of the Christian burial. He had tried to stopthe brutal laying of any possible ghost. And he had comeback to defend the grave. Unlooked-for comfort seeped intoher very bones.Dimly his voice penetrated. The words didn’t matter. Thevoice was sorrow itself, breaking in its own despair. At last