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whispered urgently in Geoffrey's ear. The young man's expression froze, and he swallowed sickly. No wonder Joanna had been terrified. "Oh my God," he whispered, "strip them and hold them secret and safe." |
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"What of the searchers?" Beorn asked anxiously. |
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An agonized indecision distorted Geoffrey's face for a moment. Then he drew a deep breath. "Whatever he is, he is all we have, " he snarled. "Call off your men." |
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Beorn seemed to be torn between rage and relief, but he said no more, merely nodded and went out again. Geoffrey looked down at his betrothed. He closed his eyes and tightened his grip upon her. It was not her fault she had been born beautiful. This was his fault, all his. She had written to ask for his protection and he had gone off like an idiot to hunt, virtually issuing a public invitation to his uncle to take her by force by asking permission to hunt the royal forest. |
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"Joanna," he said softly, "beloved, come sit here with me." He loosened her grip on him and turned her away to lead her to the bed, only to gasp and cry out, "What did he do? Where are you hurt?" |
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The anguish in Geoffrey's voice steadied Joanna. "Nothing," she forced out. "Only tore my dress." Then her eyes, which had flown to Geoffrey's face followed his and fell upon the blood-stained cloth she still clutched to her bosom with one hand and the blood-smeared flesh beneath it. "It is not my blood," she gasped, and then, "Geoffrey, you are hurt!'' |
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Breath trickled out of him in relief. The shock of seeing blood on Joanna made him forget he had been holding her against his bleeding chest. "Not much," he assured her. |
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"In a moment. Joanna, who was the man?" He saw her eyes widen and stroked her hair and cheek. "Do not be afeared love. It is ended. Over. I will not leave you alone again, I swear it. Not for an hour, not for a minute, until you are safe behind Roselynde's walls. Do not be frightened, but tell me who it was." |
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"I do not know," she whispered. |
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