When Princess Eleanor woke up, late in the evening, the fire had dwindled down to almost nothing and her dinner was lukewarm. Despite her indignation over this—after all, considering how much pleasure Patrick received from her, shouldn't he take better care of her? Garrett was always taking care of her maid. She pushed her own affront to the side and concentrated on her own plans. After all, she wouldn't have to put up with this appalling treatment for much longer if her plans works out. Just this evening she'd deliberately feigned being too worn out for dinner after her bout of pleasure with Patrick. Pleasure and pain. Her buttocks still throbbed from the lash of his belt, and that pulsing ache only served to arouse her all over again as she shifted on the hard wood making up her seat. It hadn't been too hard for her to fall asleep and now she was feeling very awake, just as the men were starting to fade.

It was hard to contain her glee; this was perfect! While she felt well rested, they were obviously wilting, and tonight she'd test how deeply Patrick slept after all their exertions. She even knew what direction to head in, from their conversations today. They weren't far from some Lord's country manor house apparently, although they had neglected to mention exactly how far, she knew that's where they were traveling to. Patrick had talked rather freely about getting her some new garments to dress her up more appropriately as his lady.

Ha. His lady indeed. No matter how he made her body feel there was no way she was staying here and living like this. Of course he was infatuated with her, she was a fine specimen of noble breeding and he was nothing more than a commoner enjoying her lily white flesh. She took it as her due. Although her emotions were sometimes conflicted because she did so enjoy his brutish dominance of her. However, she assumed that once in the hands of her noble husband, there would be even more pleasure to be had, because what commoner could compete with a prince?

"Come, princess," Patrick said, breaking into her thoughts. His eyes glittered in the firelight. Was he going to take her again? Desire stirred in her loins. If he didn't tonight then she'd have to make sure that he did tomorrow in order to wear him out even more. "Time for bed."

She went willingly, following him into the tent. To her disappointment he didn't seem inclined to take her again. Instead he curled up around her possessively and soon fell asleep. Lying in his arms, Eleanor waited until she felt him go rather limp and then she wriggled her way out of his embrace. He didn't wake up. Grinning to herself, she moved freely about the tent, trying to be quiet but not silent. Still he slept. She walked round and round the tent, partly to tire herself out so she would be able to sleep the rest of the night and partly for practice. After all, there was no way she could saddle a horse on her own, so she was going to have to walk.

Tomorrow she'd question Patrick as much as she dared and try to find out how far they were from the nobleman's house. If she were lucky perhaps this would be her last night here and she could soon return to the life that she was meant to lead.

*****

The next morning when Garrett rousted her out of bed, Bridget was very relieved when Samuel didn't even stir. Her body between her legs was very sore and it was hard for her to get her muscles moving. Garrett eyed her stiff gait and put her next to the fire where the heat soothed away some of the morning's chill and she was able to sit and prepare the gruel for breakfast rather than having to move around the campsite. The more small kindnesses he did for her, the more he confused her.

At times, it seemed as though he truly cared about more than her well-being. Their chats during the day not only served to lull him into thinking her content not to try and escape, but they also seemed to make her more complacent around him. Despite herself, she didn't fear he would harm her. In fact, some part of her felt quite sure that he would do what he could to keep her from coming to harm. But why should he care? Other than he would no longer have a woman to pleasure him. But that certainly didn't make Blaine and Samuel treat her better. Not that Blaine was as rough with her as Samuel, but she certainly didn't get the feeling that he would care overmuch if something happened to her.

Was it just because Garrett spent more time with her?

Thinking about his motives was making her crazy. In the end, they didn't truly matter as long as she could get away from here. Yesterday she'd heard the men talking some about a noble's country manor house that they were planning on robbing, which meant that they had to be close to some kind of civilization. The real question was whether or not she'd be able to free herself and the princess. Right now everyone else was sleeping and so far she hadn't seen the princess awake early enough to try and sneak away in the morning.

Perhaps sometime today she would be able to approach the princess and explain her plan and the other woman would be able to wake up early enough for them to try and escape. If they were very lucky then they were a few days away from the noble's house and there would be time enough to set a pattern.

"Here," Garrett said, his low voice breaking through her thoughts. "This will help with any soreness."

Bridget looked up at him, he was holding out a small jar of something to her. "What is it?"

"A salve with lots of herbs. I collected them yesterday. It will helps with your muscles and any... ah... tears in your skin."

Blinking with surprise, Bridget accepting the jar, settling it onto her skirts in her lap. This must be something that he'd learned from the bawdy house that he'd grown up in as well.

"Thank you," she said politely. He stood in front of her almost awkwardly and she couldn't help some resentment from seething up, making her less mindful of watching her mouth. "If you care so much about whether or not I'm hurt, why don't you..." Her voice trailed off as Garrett scowled and she dropped her head. "Never mind."

For a long moment they remained in silence, her stirring the pot of gruel and him standing and watching her.

"Men covet what they can't have if someone equal to them takes it. It’s one thing for a leader, but if one of the rest of us were to try and claim you as his own, the fight would last until he or the others were dead."

Then Garrett walked away, leaving her feeling slightly chilled. So she wasn't worth fighting for, is that what he was saying? Or was he worried he would lose such a fight? Why would she be worth fighting for, for him? Why did she find it so upsetting that he insinuated that she wouldn't be?

Or had she misunderstood him? Was he saying he did want her for his own but he didn't want to have to kill in order to have her? Or risk being killed? It wouldn't be a fair fight if it came down to it, Bridget recognized that. Blaine and Samuel would band together if Garrett had something that they couldn't. Even now the arrangement of sharing her seemed to grate on all the men a little. She wondered whether or not Patrick would have had to share the princess if Bridget had managed to evade capture.

She shuddered. Sating the lust of four men? Even taking turns that would be a daunting task.

To her surprise they got back on the horses today, taking down the camp quickly and efficiently. Unfortunately it also meant that she wasn't able to get anywhere near the princess, because she was kept too busy banking the fire, packing the saddle bags and by then the princess was up on Patrick's horse. Bridget ended up on Garrett's again, her legs pressed against the backs of his thighs and her bosom squashed against his chest. After her activities last night, riding astride made her feel a little sore, but she was too entranced by their surroundings today to take much notice of bodily discomfort.

They seemed to be riding much faster—she supposed in order to get them within striking distance of the nobleman's house, and there was more than forest to look at now. They rode through several large fields, filled with wildflowers, and she couldn't help but gasping in joy at the beauty. She blushed when Garrett looked over his shoulder and grinned at her. When they stopped in one of those fields for a midday meal, he actually went walking with her so that she could collect a bouquet. Samuel mocked him for indulging her womanly pursuits, but Garrett just shrugged.

She tried to question Garrett more about himself, finding herself more curious about him than she probably should be, but she was becoming starved for human interaction. When he wasn't forthcoming, she ended up telling him more about herself and how she came into Princess Eleanor's service, her brothers who were in the army, and her enjoyment of the outdoors. To her surprise, he ended up asking her a few questions and she found herself talking even more. He seemed particularly interested in her experiences traveling, which she was happy to tell him about. If they hadn't been captured this would have been her first trip on a ship, which she had been looking forward to. By the expression on his face, for a moment, she thought that he might actually apologize for being part of depriving her of that experience.

After that, he moved too far away for casual conversation, looking around as if keeping watch, and she finished picking her flowers in silence. They didn't speak on the ride either. When the group stopped for the night they were in the woods again, giving them better cover than any of the meadows. To be truthful, Bridget preferred the woods anyway. It was much more difficult to attend to her feminine needs when in a meadow. To her surprise, and relief, Garrett did not 'prepare' her with the plug. After riding all day, the area between her legs was already somewhat sore and she nurtured the hope that perhaps he would leave that particular hole unfilled this evening and give her some time to recuperate.

Besides, she was still in a bit of a state of shock over her surprising climax when Samuel had had her there the night before.

Unfortunately, she wasn't able to get anywhere near the princess again. Patrick took the other woman into his tent almost as soon as they had it set up after having a word with the other men, far enough away from Bridget that she couldn't hear what they were saying. Blaine and Samuel distracted her at first, using her mouth until she swallowed down their salty fluid, one after the other. But then she spent her dinner blocking out more muffled sounds of feminine cries and slaps of leather and flesh. It was enough to make her shudder and also thank her lucky stars she was with Garrett tonight.

For some strange reason, though, she couldn't help but think the sounds the princess was making were rather... ecstatic. What was happening in that tent? Did she really want to know?

By the time Patrick emerged, everyone else had finished eating and the man looked almost worn to the bone. Like last night, the princess did not accompany him. Bridget offered to bring her food, but Patrick refused, like last night. How on earth was she supposed to get together with Princess Eleanor and explain her plan to escape to the noble's manor when the princess was never accessible?

"Bridget, are you ready?" Garrett's low voice interrupted her thoughts, sending a fission of inappropriate excitement tingling through her. She couldn't help her reaction to him or to the thought of being with him, alone, all night. Not having to focus on anyone else but him. Dinner had washed away the flavor of Blaine and Samuel from her mouth and she found herself ready to indulge in the pleasures that Garrett offered.

"Yes, sir," she murmured, standing. To her surprise he took her by the arm, just above her elbow and began walking with her towards the tent, half-escorting half-leading her.

"Don't call me sir, call me Garrett," he ordered as she preceded him. Turning to face him, his large frame outlined by the fires outsides, Bridget felt her mouth go dry with anticipation. The area between her legs tingled and she could feel her nipples hardening beneath her bodice, her body knew what it wanted even if her mind was conflicted. Feminine instinct told her that saying his name was more important than it seemed.

"Garrett," she repeated, her voice low and husky. All alone in this tent, calling him by his name seemed incredibly intimate and she could see the small shudder that went through him as she said it. Then he stepped forward, his broad shoulders obscuring the muted glow from the fire through the tent's walls, and his head dipped down as his arms went around her, pulling her into a rough kiss. She clung him to him, enjoying the press of his body against hers as he moved her back towards his bedroll.

It occurred to her that, in enjoying her body, he was no different from Samuel or Blaine, but she couldn't help but feel like in some indefinable way there was a difference. Perhaps even a large one. Their conversations made her feel like she knew him a little. The small kindnesses he'd shown her didn't make up for the way her body was constantly being used by the men, but at the same time they truly did make her day brighter. And there was no need for him to be kind, he could just be like Blaine and indifferent, but instead he was kind. Courteous. Gentle. And passionate.

Bridget had kissed young men before and none of them had sent this kind of need coursing through her as Garrett did, his body bearing her down to the ground beneath him. His tongue explored her mouth, leaving her feeling wanton as she kissed him back, sucking his tongue deeper and moving against him in her needy excitement. With his large body pressed between her legs, she found herself wrapping her ankles around the backs of his thighs, her hot sex feeling like it was melting as his hands began to caress her, scooping into her bodice and holding her breasts.

Gasps filled the air as he relinquished her lips and began kissing down her neck, unlacing the front of her top with one hand as the other continued to squeezed and knead her soft flesh. There was something far too arousing about having her breast cupped in his hand, her nipple hard and eager against his palm. Her fingers dug into his shoulders as he popped her other breast free of her garments and his mouth closed around the pink bud topping her creamy mound. Suckling at her nipple, he pushed the top from her body, leaving her bare from the waist up.

Unlike the other two men, Garrett seemed far more interested in her pleasure than in his own. His mouth tormented her flesh, leaving her nipples slick with his saliva as he alternated back and forth between them, hard and wet in the cold air, sizzling heat filling her lower body even though all of his attention was focused on her upper.

Then he began to kiss down her belly, his tongue flicking over her flesh and Bridget found herself writhing for him, almost shocked at her response. If he stopped, she'd beg for him to continue, the burning throbbing at her core was so insistent on being satisfied. It was truly shameful, yet she no longer cared. Her hips bucked as he pushed her skirts down, removing himself long enough to tug them from her body and she whimpered, missing the warmth of him.

Despite the darkness in the tent, she was sure that he grinned down at her as he tugged off his shirt, tossing it aside with her skirts. Then he dropped back down, but not where she expected him. Instead his large hands pushed her thighs apart and he kissed the sensitive inner flesh of her legs, so close to her center that she was horrified, despite the darkness.

"Stop," she whispered desperately, reaching down to put her hands on his head and tug it away from that area. It was so dark he couldn't possibly see her privates, but that didn't stop her mortification. He wasn’t really going to lick her there again was he? "What are you doing?!"

Instead of answering she felt him move his head obligingly upwards, but only about an inch. Hot breath across her sensitive flesh was her only warning and then his mouth was on her again in the most embarrassingly intimate way possible. It felt wonderful. Bridget gasped, her back arching as her fingers clutched at his hair, no longer trying to pull him away but because she needed something firm to hold onto as his tongue slipped between her nether lips, teasing them the same way he did her mouth when they kissed.

Pushing her thighs wider apart, he opened her to his questing mouth, licking her and nibbling at her soft folds. She couldn't stop the rising moans as she moved her hips up and down against his lips, his tongue probing her hole in the most delicious way. Tugging at his hair, she found herself wanting more, wanting him inside of her. Instead his mouth moved upwards slightly and sucked the sensitive pearl of her womanhood into his mouth. Bridget could no longer hold back her impassioned cries as waves of pleasure washed over her, her womanhood flaring with hot bliss as her insides fluttered and expanded, a spreading pool of satisfaction emanating outwards.

Then Garrett's mouth was on hers, even as she trembled in the aftershocks of her climax, his breeches open and the blunt tip of his erection probing her sensitive flesh. Her fingers were still entwined in his hair as he kissed her deeply, the musky taste of her honey spreading through her mouth and arousing her further, as if the smell and taste of herself was an aphrodisiac. With his hands on her hips, Garrett held her in place as he began to push into her body, keeping her from pushing her hips upwards and hurrying his journey to her core. That small act of dominance only flared her need further, her grasping cunt trying to suck him inwards and fill her in the way her body craved.

Greedy to touch him more, Bridget ran her hands down Garrett's muscled back, feeling the weight and heat of him pressing against her, pressing inside of her. She brought her hands down to the small of his back, pulling at him and urging him onwards.

"Little minx," he said, groaning as he broke off the kiss, pulling his mouth away from her swollen lips to land fiery kisses across her collarbone. Bridget writhed beneath him. Her skin felt so much more sensitive in the wake of her release. The sensual urges he'd awoken in her had in no way dwindled after her first climax at his mouth, in the way eating a bite of a pastry only led her to want the whole thing before she could be satisfied.

"Garrett," she murmured, her voice throaty with desire, his name like a caress across his skin as she arched her back upwards, impaling herself further upon him. "Garrett..."

He plunged forward, like a stallion into a gallop, sinking into her to the hilt. The unexpected thrust left Bridget gasping as she was completely filled, her eager walls pulsing against his rod as she adjusted to the sudden intrusion into her body. A shocking sense of power flared over her as she realized that his roughness had been in reaction to her moaning his name, that his passions could be controlled by her. At the same time, once his desires were unleashed, she lost all control as well.

Moving powerfully above her, Garrett began a steady thrusting, almost designed to drive her wild as he slowly slipped out of her almost completely, rubbing just the end of him back and forth until she was nearly frantic to be feel him filling her sheathe again, and then falling forward on top of her, pressing their bodies together and grinding himself erotically against her feminine flesh as she writhed in abject enjoyment of being filled to bursting, before slowly pulling back out of her. Her accompanying whimpers and moans only seemed to entice him to further tortures as he bent forward and nibbled at her breasts, tugging on the ripe cherries of her nipples between his teeth.

Garrett not only ravished her body, he ravaged her sensibilities, her emotions. It was almost as if he was worshiping her body, and she couldn't help but feel beautiful and desirable, even though she knew he was also using her for his own pleasure. Their combined passion felt somehow meaningful, as if she was more than just a vessel for his cock.

Brazenly she let her nails trail up his back, digging in slightly, rewarded as his back arched and his hips plunged forward into her. Bridget wrapped her legs more securely around him, holding him against her even as he tried to pull away and Garrett let out a small chuckle. Grasping her legs, he pulled them apart and hooked his arms underneath them, folding her in half the same way Samuel had when he'd taken her ass, but Garrett's cock stayed firmly encased in her womanhood. This new position allowed him even deeper into her body and she moaned at the incredible sensation of him probing even further into her snug sheathe. It also kept her from being able to wrap her legs around him, even a little, but she no longer needed to.

As she looped her arms around his neck, Garrett began a slow, steady thrusting in and out of her splayed sex, only taking a moment to grind himself against her every time their bodies were joined. Bridget gasped and moaned, twining her hands into his hair as his mouth came down on hers, drinking in her cries as the fire in her belly was stoked higher and higher, no longer teased and tantalized, but fueled with the rhythm of his movements. His tongue delved into her mouth, taking her the same way his cock was plunging into her core. Kissing him back furiously, Bridget moved as much as she was able beneath him, trying to meet him thrust for thrust. Her inner muscles clenched, pleasuring both of them with increased friction as he pummeled her.

The burgeoning explosion in her core coiled and snapped, her screams of ecstasy muffled by his lips and mouth as he rode her through her pleasure, sending her higher and higher as each ripple of pleasure coursed through her spasming body. The walls of her cunt convulsed around his hard length as he moved faster, harder, the rough planes of his groin slamming against her engorged pearl and sending her flying. Bridget was completely at his mercy as the sensations overwhelmed her, unable to stop the incredible waves of rising bliss that were almost too much to bear. She was wind-tossed on the surf, cresting and falling over and over as Garrett slammed into her again and again.

Her nails scored his back, his shoulders, his chest, and she screamed her glory as he expanded inside of her, pulsating jets of cream filling her to the brim as he held himself tightly against her. The sensation of his own release was almost too much for Bridget and she found herself almost sobbing with the aftershocks of intense pleasure as his body slowly came to rest on top of her, tension and energy seeping out of both of them.

Garrett's weight was almost suffocating and then he rolled off of her. Despite the fact that she'd had trouble breathing beneath him, she almost missed him immediately. Then he pulled her into his arms, cradling her, and that strange sense of being comforted and safe returned. The sore, satisfied ache between her legs made her sigh with happiness. This was so different from the aftermath with Blaine and Samuel. It made her want to do something for Garrett.

For a few minutes she allowed herself to lay in sleepy satisfaction in his arms. He stroked her back and murmured soft words that she couldn't quite hear into the top of her head, occasionally brushing his lips over her forehead. Experimentally she rubbed her hand over his chest, finding his nipple, so much smaller than her own, and rubbing it. She could feel the reaction in his body as his stomach and chest muscles tightened, the rumble as he chuckled, and then his lips brushed over her forehead again.

"What are you doing?" he asked, softly still but loud enough that she could hear him.

"Exploring," she said almost matter-of-factly.

He laughed but didn't stop her. Leaning forward she took his nipple into her mouth and enjoyed his soft gasp. Flicking her tongue over the tiny tip, she rubbed her hand down the side of his body, feeling the lean muscles tensing and relaxing under her touch. He muttered something under his breath again and she released his nipple from her mouth.

"Does that feel good?"

"Very. Probably at least as good as when I do it to you," he said, his voice almost teasing.

"Very good indeed," she murmured, and leaned forward to kiss his chest again, not just his nipple this time. The hair on his chest got in her way some, but she found that she liked rubbing her cheek against the rough texture. And that doing so made him laugh at her antics. His laughter was warm and cozy and she enjoyed being the reason for it. He chuckled again when she pushed him onto his back and began exploring his chest with her mouth and hands, wanting to feel more of him.

Slowly she began to kiss down his body, the same way he had to her. Below his chest his hair was much sparser, except for a long line down the center of his lower belly, from his belly button to his groin. The bottom of his ribs, right where the last bone was before he became all hard muscle, was extremely sensitive to her mouth and tongue, and so she even tried nibbling at that area with her teeth. Garrett gasped and groaned as her explorations became more enthusiastic, seeming to enjoy her curiosity.

Eventually she made her way down to his manhood, already half-hard from her ministrations, and she began to clean him with her mouth. The musky, sexy taste of their combined juices was much more palatable than the night before when she'd done this at Samuel's insistence. Bridget licked her way up from the soft sack below his manhood up to the soft, velvety tip of his blunt mushroom shaped cock, enjoying the way he grew against her stroking tongue and inside of her mouth. His fingers stroked back her hair, holding it at the nape of her neck, and she received the impression that he was watching her as she attended to him. Watching her movements at least, at this angle he would be able to see her silhouetted by the glowing campfire. She turned her head slightly so that he could be able to watch her head bobbing up and down on his long shaft, watch the slide of his cock between her lips.

With a low groan, Garrett pulled tighter on her hair and moved her head away from his cock, pulling her up towards him. "Time to go for a ride, little maid."

"A ride?" she asked, confused.

Even in the darkness, although she couldn't see his expression at all, Bridget felt sure that he was grinning. Releasing her hair he grasped her by the hips and lifted her on top of him, one leg on either side of his hips and she gasped as she realized that she was now spread and hovering over his erect cock. One hand slid up to cup her breast as the other went between their bodies, and she felt the head of his cock sliding between her feminine folds, rubbing over sensitive flesh. She moaned as he lined himself up and then put his hand on her thigh, pushing her down on top of him as he pinched her nipple with his other hand. The sensation of sinking onto him was incredible. From this angle he felt even larger than before, filling her up to the brim, and her weight pressed all her most sensitive parts flush against him.

Putting both of his hands on her hips he began to move her up and down, showing her what to do.

"Just like on the horse today, Bridget, ride me." The hoarseness of his voice as he spoke indicated his enjoyment of this new position and Bridget obliged him. She began to move up and down, her hips rocking back and forth, the same movements that she'd made while straddling the horse. No wonder ladies didn't normally ride that way. Even before she'd known this was possible it had seemed unseemly, now it was downright obscene. Would she ever be able to ride a horse astride again without thinking of Garrett between her thighs, his cock pumping upwards into her body as she writhed and rode him? "That's it, little maid."

As his hands slid up her curves to cup her breasts, squeezing them with obvious enjoyment, Bridget leaned forward a little so that she could rest her hands on his chest, giving her better leverage to lift herself up and down on top of him. His cock was splitting her open in the most wonderful way and she was finally able to control their movements, using him for her own pleasure. Rocking on top of him, Bridget moaned and sighed as she bounced up and down, not too fast but not too slow, with a steady rhythm that was sensually pleasing. Excitement trickled through her as she took her time with him, enjoying the way he gasped and groaned beneath her.

With her nails she played with the hair on his chest, massaging his muscles underneath and stroking over the tiny nubbins of his nipples. Garrett let her play with him, responding by imitating her strokes and pinches on her breasts until they were tugging at each other's nipples, his body surging upwards as she ground down on top of him.

"Garrett..." she said, moaning as he pinched and tugged her downwards, the pearl of her womanhood trapped between their bodies and throbbing against their flesh.

"Yes Bridget..." His body pumped upwards as she gasped, the swirling pleasure slicing through her and curling her toes as her muscles tensed and released. "Cum for me... cum for me, little maid."

"Garrett." Her voice became almost a wail as his hands slid back down to her hips, pulling her hard against him as he began to pound at her from beneath, taking back control and moving her on top of him like she weighed nothing at all. Her insides throbbed and she shuddered in ecstasy as molten heat poured forth into her channel, leaning forward until her breasts were pressed against his chest, her face buried in his shoulder as she came hard for him. Ecstasy rolled through her, pressing her down against him as he rubbed and thrust.

Suddenly he turned her and she was on her back again, her legs wrapped around him as he pounded into her, hard and fast. She shrieked as the assault on her sex sent her into throes of rapture, her nails scoring down his back as the pleasure became overwhelming and she screamed his name. Writhing beneath him, her body undulated and twisted, trying to get away from the overload of stimulation as he rocked against her, rubbing his groin over her most sensitive bit until she was sure that she couldn't take any more.

His arms tightened around her, his knees sliding under her thighs and tilting her body up and into him. His last thrust was deep, impaling her on his spear as it expanded inside of her. Trapped in a cage of limbs, Bridget sobbed the last of her climax as he pumped her full of cream, her inner walls tight and shuddering around him. Garrett let out a long sigh as he pressed down on her, keeping his satisfied cock buried inside of Bridget's warmth as he held her tightly. Slowly they broke apart, moving an arm and then a leg, until Garrett was on his side and Bridget was curled up against him, one leg between his thighs, head resting on his bicep and her face pressed against his chest. It was a remarkably intimate arrangement and she felt inexplicably safe cradled in his arms like that.

Murmuring softly, Garrett stroked the back of her head. She wanted to hear what he was saying, but she was so tired that she slipped into sleep without understanding a single word.

******

For once Eleanor had a reason to be grateful to her slut of a maid, not that she'd be thanking her. Her screams of passion were so loud they woke Eleanor up out of a very sound sleep, one which she might not have woken up from in time on her own. Although she'd worked hard to wear Patrick out, she'd worn herself out as well, even more than she'd realized at first. Patrick stumbled back into the tent and Eleanor held herself still, feigning sleep. It was easy to see that he'd been drinking on top of his exhaustion from traveling and then riding her hard, he should sleep very well tonight. It was a struggle to keep a smile from curving her lips, but she managed.

This was the best time she was going to get to escape. Before taking her into the tent Patrick had had a quick word with his men, telling Blaine and Samuel they'd be scouting the noble's house tomorrow. That meant it must be close. If she was going to get there before them and garner the noble's protection, then she had to leave tonight.

The only thing she regretted was not being able to bed Garrett to win him to her side before she escaped. She was quite sure he was the biggest threat when it came to hunting her down. But even that had worked in her favor, seeing as the randy whore who used to be her maid had probably worn him out with her base needs.

As Patrick came to bed down, Eleanor wiped the sneer from her face. She was fairly certain he wasn't paying any attention to her anyway, but she was too smart to be caught over something so silly. He lay down in the blankets, facing away from her, and it didn't take more than a few minutes before he started snoring. But she stayed put, listening for Blaine and Samuel. The fire had been put out when Patrick had come in the tent so they must be on their way to their beds as well. Would they fall asleep as quickly?

Eleanor forced herself to stay awake and not move, waiting. Everything was quiet for a long time before she began moving out of the blankets, already clothed. She'd put them back on after Patrick had gone out to get his dinner. Speaking of which... her stomach rumbled. Very quietly she moved out of the tent, heading to the campfire. Originally she'd planned to leave straight away, but this was better. Now if one of the men heard her she could say that she'd woken from hunger; she'd still have a chance to escape although it would be later in the night than she wanted.

But no one came out of the tents as she quickly ate down the plate of food that had been set to the side, obviously for her. Not that anyone had brought it to her. Thank goodness she was getting out of here tonight. The men could have her whorish maid and she could return to civilization with proper servants.

Belly fully, Eleanor turned in the direction that Patrick had indicated to Blaine earlier and set off into the night, already shedding her thoughts of the motley crew behind her and lamenting the lack of a servant to saddle a horse. But surely whatever nobleman that was soon to be her host would pamper her accordingly once she had arrived and shared her sad tale.