Watching Samuel take the princess off to the tent, he wondered if he should try to stop them... but the princess didn’t seem unhappy. If anything, she looked almost eager. It eased his conscience somewhat, a conscience that hadn't bothered him in far too long before the woman beside him had come into his life.

Even now, obviously drunk, he found her incredibly admirable. She'd ridden all day without complaint and had even had the fortitude and spirit to stand up to him when he'd given her his flask. After the shock of killing a man—he was quite sure it was her first—he figured she'd need a little anesthetic to help her get to sleep. Although he hadn't expected her to drink perhaps quite so much, but he didn't want to deny it to her if she needed it. Not after today.

Stroking her side softly, he wondered how on earth he was going to explain himself to her. What excuse he could make to her that she would find reasonable, justifiable, for the way that she had been treated. Even rescuing her from the situation didn't seem like quite enough. And he was sure that it wouldn’t be enough to convince her to go with him. But he wanted her to. He'd never met another woman like her, and already knowing her had turned him into a better man—or at least started him back on the road toward the good man that he'd used to be.

Somehow all his priorities had changed over the time that he'd come to know her, from the desire to serve his father, king and country, to wanting to settle down on his own piece of land, to take advantage of the promise his father had made him. Of course, he'd meant to take that land eventually anyway, but he'd thought he'd had a few more years left in his current business. At least one or two more assignments, although none of them would have been quite as personal as this one.

"Garrett," murmured the beauty at his side, breaking through his thoughts, and he looked down into her big doe-eyes, glimmering in the campfire light. "Kiss me."

She was definitely drunk... but what could it hurt? And her berry-ripe lips were far too irresistible as she flicked her little pink tongue out at him. Besides, he took it as a good sign that she still wanted his kiss.

Lowering his head he met her lips gently, intending to give her a brief kiss, but her hands came up to his neck and pulled him against her hard, her tongue thrusting into his mouth in the most wanton manner and Garrett groaned as his body responded. She kissed him with an intensity and fervor that she had never displayed before, taking control of his mouth and sucking his tongue into hers. It was a passionate, heady kiss, and it took every ounce of willpower he possessed to break it off, his cock rock hard and pressing against the inside of his breeches.

But Bridget was drunk. More than drunk, she'd killed a man today and he'd died practically on top of her. That kind of adrenaline and near-death experience was often followed by a need for lovemaking, Garrett was feeling it himself, but he didn't want her like this. Tomorrow she would wake... and what if she regretted their joining? He didn't want her filled with regret or shame when he asked her to come with him, because then of course she would say no. So he pulled away, leaving her panting and breathless and himself aching with need for her.

"Come, little maid," he said brusquely, standing quickly. "Time for bed."

The slow seductive smile she gave him as she wobbled to her feet didn't leave him any doubt she wasn’t done trying to get what her body was craving in its inebriated and confused state, but he hoped once he got her to the tent she would lie down and fall asleep. Ushering her to the tent not being used by Samuel and the princess, doing his best to ignore the moans and squeals coming from it, Garrett ducked in behind her just as she began taking off her clothes.

*******

"Bridget, stop, lie down sweetheart," Garrett said, gripping her wrist.

Irritated, Bridget pulled away from him. She wanted her clothes off. "Too hot."

With a sigh Garrett helped her disrobe as she giggled dizzily, her head swirling. Her cunt was damp with arousal, her body pulsing now that he was so close and she was naked, her nipples hard and ready for his mouth and fingers. Stumbling forward, she pressed her naked body against his, wanting to feel the heat and warmth of him, the life and vitality. It helped to press away the memory of Patrick's dying flesh, replacing it with living man. Pressing her lips to his, she tried to thrust her tongue into his mouth, wanting him to blot out the memories, but he pulled away and Bridget made an aggravated noise.

"Sweetheart, lie down, you don't want to do this."

"Don't tell me what I do and don't want," she said, anger flashing in her eyes. She went for him again and as he tried to pull away they became tangled up in each other. Garrett twisted as they fell, arranging it so Bridget landed on top of him, knocking his breath out of him a bit as she giggled and wriggled around, rubbing her body against his. "Mmm... you can't pretend you don't want this." Rubbing her mound against the large bulge at the front of his breeches, Bridget pressed her lips to his again. She could feel the shuddering sigh that went through him as they kissed. Being on top gave her a sense of power, even more so than the last time she'd been on top of him because she could feel his resistance and the way it wavered as she squirmed and kissed.

Heat and need shivered up her spine as she felt him trying to lift her off of him. Angry, she allowed him to push her upwards, and then she shimmied up his body, pressing her shins down over his biceps so that he was trapped. Of course, she knew he could push her off if he really wanted to, but she was going to do her best not to let him. With her cunt splayed open over his face, Bridget reached down and grabbed his hair, pushing his mouth into her wetness.

"Lick me," she whispered. Garrett's arms could bend enough to grasp her thighs, pulling them farther apart as he began to lick her, having decided it would be easier to appease her, give her an orgasm, and then let her fall asleep.

Bridget moaned as she began to ride his face, his mouth suckling at her nether lips and drinking in the sweet honey that had gathered there. She felt wanton and powerful, this strong man trapped between her thighs, beneath her body, pleasuring her with his lips and tongue, nibbling at her with his teeth. Excitement surged through her as she kept one hand on his hair, the other coming up to pinch and toy with her nipples as he laved her sensitive flesh. His tongue thrust up inside of her and she moaned, the grip on his hair tightening.

Was this how the men felt when they had her on her knees and were pushing their cocks into her mouth? Now she could almost understand the appeal and she began to ride Garrett's face harder, liking the idea that she was forcing him to pleasure her, turning the tables on him when he'd so obviously been reluctant. Now she was in charge and he was doing her bidding.

"Oh yes," she cried out as he began to lick and suck at her little pearl, pulling the sensitive nubbin with his teeth and suckling it between his lips. She could feel her climax gathering, like storm clouds at the center of her being, lightning sparks flashing through her core as Garrett masterfully pleasured her. Her thighs trembled with the effort of holding herself above him until she couldn't take it anymore and she leaned forward, weight on her knees and one hand, the other still gripping his hair tightly as she forced his mouth against her. "Oh Garrett... oh... I can't... oh Garrett!”

The sucking sensation on her clit increased as her pussy spasmed, her body rocking on his face as pleasure shuddered through her. He was relentless, lavishing his oral attentions on her as she climaxed, furthering her ecstasy as she moaned and gyrated on his face.

Finally Bridget pulled away, her pussy feeling only partly satisfied, and she realized that she wouldn't be completely satisfied until her cunt was convulsing around hard meat, rather than quivering around emptiness. Scooting down Garrett's body, she attacked the front of his breeches, almost before he knew what she was doing, freeing his hard cock from the tight confines of his pants.

"Bridget, no, stop," he reached for her and Bridget grabbed his hands, twining her fingers through his and pushing his hands down on either side of his head. With her knees on the ground, straddling his groin, she brought her feet up so that they were resting on his thighs, pressing down so that her entire weight was on top of him. Perhaps if he hadn't been wounded and surprised, it wouldn't have been as effective, but she managed to pin him beneath her as she rubbed the head of his cock over her sopping folds.

"Don't worry, Garrett, I'll make you feel good," she crooned, echoing some of his own words that he'd used with her. The thrill she got from holding him down, from knowing that for whatever reason he didn't want to have sex right now and she was going to make him, was shocking to her, even in her inebriated state. But she was too excited to stop.

"Not like this," he said, pressing his hands upwards, but Bridget sat down, taking the entire length of his thick shaft into her body with one hard stroke and he spasmed beneath her, giving her the chance to press his hands down again.

"Yes, just like this." Bridget moaned as his cock flexed inside of her and then she rose upwards until just the tip of his head was inside of her, rocking back and forth with slight movements so that it popped in and out of her hole.

Garrett groaned beneath her, his hips trying to surge upwards only to find himself shockingly stopped by the weight of her feet pressing down on them. Wounded from the earlier fight, exhausted from the night before and the activities of the day, and willpower quickly being drained by Bridget's teasing and her snug wetness, Garrett found himself unable to stop her from taking what she wanted as she slammed her body back down on top of his, grinding her groin into his pelvis.

Bridget began riding him, using him like her own personal toy as she bounced up and down on top of him, swirling her hips and rubbing her clit against the base of his cock. She would rise up and tease his head often as he moaned beneath her, trying to thrust upwards, glorying in her domination over him, before slamming herself back down again and reliving the joy of his thick penetration filling her cunt. Throwing her head back, Bridget rocked on top of him, squeezing his cock with her inner muscles and taking her time as she slowly built her climax, loving the feel of him inside of her and the way he'd succumbed to her drunken fucking, his desire for her overpowering his reluctance.

Truthfully she didn't understand why he was reluctant, but she now understood how erotic it was to coax his body into enjoyment and desire anyway, to feel him go from trying to resist her to trying to pump his cock into her body. His movements beneath her were becoming stronger, making it harder for her to pin him down, but with her legs situated the way they were, all he could do was lift her body up, he couldn't thrust his cock into her, and so she could tease him to her heart's content before taking him fully inside of her again. Every long thrust was bliss, spearing upwards into her grasping channel, filling her so deliciously in exactly the way her body craved.

The warmth of the liquor in her blood made her core feel even wetter, fueling her sensual abandon. She moaned and bounced, wiggled and gasped as she used his cock like a fuck toy, ignoring his own pleas and whimpers as she sensually tormented them both. His cock twitched inside of her, but every time she could feel him beginning to tense beneath her, she would slow her movements, going back to tease his head to keep him from coming. Sometimes she leaned down to take his tiny nipples in her mouth and suck and tug on them with his teeth, making him jerk beneath her. When they kissed he assaulted her mouth as if he could drink in her essence, taking what little control that he could over their passionate kisses.

It was an entirely new experience for Bridget and she gloried in raping him, taking from him the pleasure that she craved, feeding the hot need between her legs with his reluctant body.

"Oh fuck... Bridget... please..." he begged as she teased his head again, rubbing it around her slick opening. They'd been fucking for so long his entire shaft glistened with lubrication, her wet juices matting the hair around its base, and her clit felt like it was twice its usual size.

Hearing him beg sent a jolt of lightning straight through to that sensitive nub and she slammed down on him again, knowing that it was for the last time. The thick knob of his cock rubbed over her g-sport, sinking deep inside of her like a bar of steel as she began to ride him in earnest. Her fast, rough movements were such a change from the teasing, languid pace that she'd been keeping that Garrett heaved beneath her immediately, his cock twitching inside of her.

"Garrett... ohhhh yes... oh that's so good..." Bridget's back arched as he pulsed against her walls, his cock somehow growing thicker, longer, harder, as cum began to boil out of his balls and shove its way up his shaft and into her body. She screamed her elation as she convulsed, the hot fluid of his cum filling her quivering chasm as ecstasy flared from her needy center and flowed throughout her entire body. Bridget's clit was trapped between her body and his pubic bone, the little nubbin pinched and rubbed as she came, her hips rotating back and forth on top of him.

"Fuck... Bridget...." Garrett bellowed as his long awaited climax surged and filled her, his cock bursting inside of her like a geyser, spewing forth hot liquid. He bucked beneath her, groaning with pleasure as they moved with mutual culmination, their bodies feeding off of each other. Bridget's movements continued long after Garrett was spent, his cock still half hard in her grasping tunnel as she wrung him dry, her overstimulated nerves causing her to jerk and flop on top of him until she finally collapsed, her soft breasts pillowed against his chest.

She murmured sleepily as he stroked her hair, the deep rumbling in his chest indicating that he was speaking to her although she couldn't understand any of the words. Drunk and sated, Bridget snuggled into him and slept.

*********

The next morning Garrett awoke at his usual time feeling completely refreshed mentally, although sore and aching from his wounds. The soft bundle of woman in his arms sighed and squirmed closer to his warmth and he held her tight, relishing the feel of her in his arms. Once she woke up she might not be so pleased to see him. It was a little unnerving how easily she'd overtaken his intentions last night, using him for her pleasure. And he'd enjoyed every moment of it, even if he was unsure it had been the best idea. She was a right handful when she wanted to be and he sincerely hoped she'd agree to come with him, that she wouldn't wake up feeling angry over her drunken antics. Because she hadn't been quite in her right mind last night and he'd known so even if she hadn't at the time. It should have been his responsibility to make sure she didn't do anything she'd regret later.

Sighing, Garrett reluctantly pulled himself away from her clinging arms and tucked her in, heading outside to make breakfast and put something together to help with the morning-after head she was sure to have, considering how much liquor she'd put away last night.

By the time the food was almost ready, Samuel had joined him and the two men began to negotiate for what was going to come next.

*******

Voices outside woke the princess and she moaned as she came awake. Mostly out of frustration. That bastard Samuel had none of Patrick's finesse. Not that she'd been entirely sorry to see the former bandit leader die. In fact, she'd snickered to see him brought down by a lowly maid, but he'd certainly known his way around a woman's body and the pain and pleasure that she craved. Samuel wanted something entirely different. While Eleanor wanted to be tied down, tormented and whipped, Samuel wanted her to struggle, he wanted to be rough and he didn't want to take his time about it.

Of course, Eleanor enjoyed the roughness, but what was the point of struggling if he wasn't really hurting her? Being held down had its own appeal, although it wasn't nearly as satisfying as the ropes Patrick had tied her with. And Samuel hadn't been entirely delighted by her performance either, she remembered sourly. It wasn't until he began to force his cock into her ass that she'd truly begun to struggle.

She liked pain and domination, not degradation, and she hated the shameful dirtiness of having a cock in her asshole. Patrick had quickly come to that realization and used it for punishment. Samuel had delighted in degrading her, holding her down over a mound of pillows, her flailing limbs not helping her at all as he thrust at her from behind, ravaging her tiny hole. It had burned and cramped, he was much rougher on that back entryway than Patrick had ever been, forcing his cock in to its full length almost immediately and then pounding her with long, hard strokes that jammed his meat into her bowels. While she'd liked the pain, she'd hated where it was coming from.

Even worse was when she'd climaxed, her abused hole tightening around his thick meat as the pain sent her swirling into ecstasy, her humiliation at his hands complete.

And on top of everything, she wasn't even sure who was the leader now. Was it him or Garrett? She couldn't stand the thought that she might be given over for pleasure to an underling. Too quick pleasure at that. Her body had only been somewhat satisfied by Samuel's rough anal ravishment. She needed a man to take time with her, strap her, hurt her until he finally spent himself in her for her to achieve the culmination that she truly needed. Garrett was certainly the man to do that, she knew from the sounds she'd heard when he'd taken his pleasure with her slut of a maid that he always took his time with a woman, she was sure he could give her what she needed. Plus, she suspected that once they had time to work things out, Garrett would take charge.

Her lips curved into a smile. Of course that would mean she would finally become Garrett's woman and find out exactly what he had been doing to the little whore that made her moan so. Why would any leader, even of a two man bandit group, choose to pleasure himself with anything but the best? With her royal bloodlines and beauty, there was no doubt which of the two women was the more desirable.

Artfully arranging her dress so that a goodly expanse of bosom showed, the princess went outside to see the men.

"Are you sure, my Lord?" Samuel asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Don't call me that," Garrett snapped, lowering his voice and muttering something else that she couldn't quite hear.

Movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention and she could see the little maid looking at the two men in shock. Apparently she had heard as well. Satisfaction ran through Princess Eleanor. No wonder she'd been so interested in Garrett this whole time. He had some kind of noble blood. What was he doing with these ruffians? she wondered. Perhaps he was the black sheep of a family or some such. Or even a spy! How exciting. And satisfying, since she would no longer need to demean herself by finding her pleasure with base men, surely Garrett would pleasure her even more thoroughly than Patrick had.

Princess Eleanor glided forward to accept her breakfast, making sure to dip down low enough that Garrett could see into her gaping top, all the way down her creamy breast to her pink nipple.

*******

Garrett handed the princess her food, watching Bridget from the corner of his eye. From the pale, shocked look on her face after she'd excited the tent, he had to assume she'd heard Samuel's mocking honorific. Damn the man. He might be one of Garrett's father's more valued resources, but sometimes he was just a pain in the ass. Now Garrett would have to talk to Bridget and explain things sooner than he'd meant to. He'd wanted to give her more time to get used to him now that Patrick was gone and he could be himself. Let her get to know who he was as a man. Let her see the man he wanted to be for her, before he told her about his family.

Taking a deep breath he stood, holding Bridget's breakfast in one hand, and walked towards his quarry. The pursed lips and glinting eyes belied her pale cheeks—she was not only shocked, she seemed angry. Because of last night? Because of what Samuel had said? Or was it pain and not anger that tightened her lips? Cursing the timing, Garrett handed her the bowl of food.

"Might we walk? I'd like to talk to you," he said in a low voice

******

Bridget stared up into Garrett's eyes, feeling unsure of whether or not she wanted to go with him. As soon as she'd woken up this morning, memories of the night before had started pouring in. Her wanton behavior, the way she'd pleasured herself with his body, the excitement she'd felt as overcoming him. Shame suffused her and looking at him just seemed to make it worse. He was the only one who knew she was a shameless hussy. The liquor had overcome her inhibitions and she'd become just as greedily pleasure-seeking as any man.

Trying to reconcile that with how she'd always thought of herself was difficult. Even more so was hearing Samuel called Garrett "my Lord." What had he meant by it? And why did Garrett want to talk now?

The man in front of her had confused her emotions horribly when he'd left without a second glance. Then his announcement when he'd returned that he was leaving and he wanted to take her with him had confused her even more. On top of that was her own reaction yesterday to seeing him being put in danger by Patrick and then her shameless behavior last night.

"Yes," she finally answered him, hugging her arms to her waist as though she could keep all of her conflicting emotions from escaping. "We can talk."

He took her elbow in his hand, gently but firmly, and steered her away from the campfire. Was it her imagination or could she feel the other two staring curious daggers into her back? They walked off far enough that it seemed like they were the only two people in the world, to where there was a fallen tree. Garrett sat her down on the tree and began to pace back and forth in front of her, not looking at her. She wanted to break the tense silence but she had no idea what to say to him.

"I'm sorry I had to leave you the other day," he said finally, making her jump and stare at him. Whatever she had expected, an apology wasn't the first thing. "I didn't want to, but I didn't have a choice."

"Because of Patrick?" she asked, somewhat bewildered, considering Garrett hadn't been at all adverse about confronting the leader yesterday.

He laughed, but it was a harsh sound, without any real humor in it. "No. Because... argh. This is harder than I thought." Rubbing his hands through his dark hair, he looked at her, his expression so confused that she almost felt like reaching out and comforting him, but she stopped herself. Instincts like that could get her into trouble. "I said we were going to England. That's my home. My father... I work for the government. Sort of. Unofficially. I go into other countries and gather information... sometimes other things."

"You're a spy?" she asked, incredulously. A spy and possibly an assassin. She hadn't missed the way his voice had darkened when he'd referenced 'other things.' A trickle of fear ran through her as she realized that this was information she probably shouldn't have, that he would and could kill her for if he deemed it necessary.

"Yes. Some of the time. I'm whatever they need me to be." His voice was quiet, reflective.

"Are you really a Lord?"

"No. Not really." He sighed. "My father is a Duke, but I was born on the wrong side of the sheets. He would have acknowledged me, but since he is in charge of gathering information for the King, I ended up doing something much more useful than providing him with another extraneous son. I have three legitimate brothers—had three. Now I have two." His eyes darkened in sorrow and Bridget felt her heart ache for him a little at the obvious grief and anger on his face, even though she was still feeling frightened for herself. "About three and a half years ago my brother, Arden, was murdered on a diplomatic mission to France. We suspected his death was not at the hands of the French alone but was also done as a message to my father about some of the advice he was giving the king. Someone on our side must have colluded with the French to make Arden's death possible. So my father sent me here."

Garrett began pacing again, silent and filled with nervous energy. Despite the fact that he was spilling more information, Bridget felt her fear waning. It certainly didn't seem like this was information he didn't want her to know.

"Why bandits?" she asked, partly because she was curious and partly because she couldn't stand the silence.

"Samuel's one of my father's agents," he said, half-smiling at her aghast look. "He's been in our employ on an irregular basis for years and he has a knack for picking up the most incredible amount of information. Besides, bandits move fast and often and no one is going to think of a bandit as being a spy. Or the son of a Duke posing as a bandit, bastard or not. I've been traveling with him and the others for about three years now, collecting information on who was part of the conspiracy that assassinated Arden on both the French and English side. The nobleman's house we robbed these past two days was the leader on the French side and I needed documents he supposedly had, Samuel heard about them... well... somewhere."

"Did he have them?" Almost against her will, Bridget found herself completely enthralled by this tale of intrigue. Although she'd sometimes suspected there was more to Garrett than met the eye, she certainly hadn't suspected anything like this.

"He did." The look of triumph on his face was both gleeful and vengeful, a terrifying expression that would have had her running if it had been directed at her. His fists clenched and unclenched by his side as if he was already thinking about how he would repay those who had killed his brother. "He had more than we'd hoped for. Not just the names of all those involved, but letters in their own writing, information about other plots, and a detailed accounting of all the information, money, and incidentals some of our supposedly loyal English nobles provided to the French over the past years."

"He kept that all in one place?" Bridget was aghast at the stupidity of the man. Garrett laughed, this time with real amusement behind it.

"Ah, pride goeth before a fall. He thought no one knew who he was or would think to look at his most out of the way house, that he had the perfect hiding place, and no one would ever be able to break into it. And he was wrong on all counts." Grinning, Garrett looked almost like a young man who had just been given his first accolade. "Now I just need to get back to England before he arrives at his manor house and sends out messengers to warn his compatriots. I want them to face the King's justice, not flee with their hides intact." Now his face darkened again, becoming implacable. Bridget shivered and her movement caught his attention. Immediately his expression softened and he walked towards her, uncertainty creeping back into his eyes. "I'd like you to come with me. I'm... I'm not sure what you might think of me considering... I did what I had to do to bring Arden's murderers to justice. I don't have a better excuse than that. I had to fit in with the other men. But... I do care about you." He took a breath, watching her expression which she felt had frozen onto her face. "Deeply. I would like you to come home with me and... and make it your home. Allow me to court you."

The wind seemed to be knocked out of her.

"Are you still going to be a spy?" It was the most innocuous question she could ask under the circumstances. And she wasn't ready to answer him in any way. It seemed that in a matter of minutes her entire world had been turned upside down and she could barely think.

"Not if you were to come with me. It's about time I resigned anyway. I'd like to settle on an estate that my father has settled on me. It's not huge but it's large enough to support me and my family."

The way he was looking at her was so earnest and honest, it completely disarmed her. And so hopeful. But her tongue seemed stuck to the roof of her mouth. After all, how could she forgive him for all the indignities she'd suffered? Not just at the hands of the others, but his as well. He'd been the one to capture her in the first place. And now he wanted her to come home with him, as his wife? Or at least to court...

Her head pounded as if resolving into a terrible headache.

"I can't think," she said finally, rubbing at her temples. Tears had sprung into her eyes and she wasn't entirely sure why.

Immediately Garrett was beside her, taking her hands in his and replacing her fingers with his own. Closing her eyes she allowed him to massage her head, hating the way it felt so comforting. "You don't need to answer me now. I just wanted to tell you. And ask you to think about it. I've never met another woman as strong, who has spirit like yours. I admire everything about you, Bridget."

"Were there other women? In my situation?" She kept her eyes closed not wanting to see his face, but she could feel his hesitation.

"Yes."

"What happened to them?"

"I helped them escape. Patrick had started to suspect, which is why he kept such a close eye on you and the princess. They both spent several days with us, because it was easier to help them get away when we were close to a city or town where someone could hide them. I... will admit that it has grown harder for me in the past few years to be a good man. But you make me want to be one." His voice dropped almost to a whisper. "You're so good, so pure of heart. Even in captivity you view the world with enjoyment and eager eyes, finding the best in every situation. It makes me want to be near you, to protect you." Misery crept into his tone. "I did the best I could. I know it wasn't enough, but I hope one day you'll find it in your heart to forgive me."

Part of her wanted to forgive him right now, after hearing those beautiful words, but she didn't. Instead she opened her eyes and gently removed his hands. "I'll think about it."

Nodding his head, as if he knew that was all he could expect from her, Garrett looked up through the trees at the sun. "We should get back to camp. I don't want to leave the princess alone with Samuel for too long."

"What, you mean he's not a hero in disguise either?" Her voice was slightly bitter, which made him give her a sharp look but he didn't say anything about it.

"No, he's exactly the way he acts, unfortunately. But he's a good agent."

Pursing her lips, not wanting to say anything more on the subject, Bridget followed him in silence.

*******

Garrett resolved to leave Bridget alone for the rest of the day to give her time to think about what he'd said. It wasn't easy though, because he found that he was terrified she wouldn't be interested in coming with him and being afraid didn't sit so well with him. Then again, perhaps it was a kind of retribution for the fear she'd probably felt during the time she'd spent with the bandits.

She sat on a log near the fire, staring out into space and he hoped that she was seriously considering his proposal. While he might not be the man he used to be, if she was willing to come home with him he'd make it his life's goal to return to the honorable, moral man that he'd been ten years ago, and to making her happy. He regretted that his mother had passed away. She would have liked Bridget. Although, if his mother hadn't passed away then his father would have never found out about him, he wouldn't have the job he did now, and wouldn't have met Bridget. And Bridget’s own fate might have been far worse.

Keeping a careful eye on her as she walked down to the river, even though he doubted she'd try to escape right now since she had nowhere to go to, he discussed plans with Samuel. Somehow they needed to get the princess back to some kind of civilization and he wanted to know if Samuel would stay with them long enough to do that. On the other hand, if he did, Samuel would want access to the women. Last night Garrett had been willing to ignore that, today, with his new found resolve to become a man deserving of Bridget, he knew he couldn't let that situation continue.

Fortunately, Samuel had simple needs. Money, women, and alcohol. Give him a bit more money, which Garrett didn't need, even if it would help with traveling back home in comfort, and he felt adequately compensated for the lack of a woman for the night. Although he wasn't willing to stay on longer if there were two women around that he couldn't have.

"I'll stay with you till we reach town tomorrow," Samuel said. "Then I'll be on my way."

"I mean to send the princess into town, if there are any soldiers there, to take her back where she belongs," warned Garrett. "I'll wait until just before suppertime, but you'll want to have left by then."

Sighing, Samuel nodded, scratching his chin. "She's not nearly as much fun as your little maid anyway."

Garrett bristled a little, but he didn't take offense. After all, he was getting what he wanted and he definitely didn't want to start an unnecessary fight with Samuel. It didn't matter what Samuel said anymore, he'd promised to keep his hands off Bridget and the princess and that was that. Tomorrow he wouldn't have to deal with the other man any longer either. He just hoped Bridget would be willing to at least keep traveling with him after tomorrow. He would give her the option of going to the town with the princess. It would be up to her.

*****

Things had gotten boring, Eleanor noted sourly. Her body had become accustomed to pleasure and pain and she was craving it now. Needing it. Especially since there was nothing else to do. Her whore of a maid had wandered down to the river they'd camped near and was just barely visible through the trees. Garrett kept looking down there as if he make sure she was still there. But the slut hadn't had the courage to try an escape in the first place, not like Eleanor, so why would she now? She’d obviously been enjoying herself. Maybe he was worried that if she disappeared then he'd have to share Eleanor with Samuel.

Smiling, she smugly thought about how Samuel had left her alone all day today. It was obviously Garrett's turn with her. And maybe she could convince him to do away with Samuel and the maid and just keep her. He was some kind of nobility, after all. Samuel's voice had only been half in jest when he had called Garrett ‘my Lord’. Perhaps if Garrett was pleasurable enough then she would keep him by her side as a favored courtier once she was installed in her rightful place at court. Even though she hadn't been able to hear everything the men were talking about, she knew Garrett wanted to get her back to where she belonged.

It would be nice to have a husband. Hopefully one that was as attractive as Patrick or Garrett and as skilled at satisfying the needs of her body.

As she mused over the near future, she saw Samuel and Garrett wrapping up their conversation. Samuel ignored her and began sharpening his knife. Garrett looked down at the whore-maid again, still standing by the river, before glancing at her. He gave her a nod and she smiled at him, before he turned away and went to the tent.

A summons! Finally. Excitement welled between her legs. While she'd enjoyed Patrick's heavy handedness and the way he picked her up or dragged her around, the way Garrett had just nodded at her and expected her to follow made her just as excited. The man didn't need to be overbearing physically, he just had the kind of aura that made people want to obey. Even princesses. Licking her lips, she walked toward the tent, slowly undoing the laces on her bodice. Reaching the opening, she walked in to find Garrett with his shirt already off, his impressively muscular chest on display.

He looked up at her and frowned and she smiled, realizing he must want her clothes off immediately. Good thing she'd already loosened them, not that they were in very good condition anyway. Smiling even wider, she let her dress fall.

"I'm ready," she purred, stepping forward.

*******

It was impossible not to feel Garrett's eyes on her, Bridget reflected as she stared at the river. It wasn't very fast moving and there were little minnows swimming in the shallows. Every time she looked up through the trees she could see him standing there, watching. Part of her felt intruded upon, part of her felt safer knowing that he was watching.

Maybe the problem wasn't Garrett, maybe the problem was her. How could she react to him the way that she did? Why did she care so much about whether or not he cared for her? Silly question. But she wasn't ready to admit to the answer yet. Scowling, she threw a rock into the water, watching the ripples that it made in its aftermath. That was how Garrett was with her. Every time she made a decision, every time her feelings settled, he threw in a rock and caused a whole new set of thoughts and possibilities to assail her. It was incredibly frustrating.

Glancing up, she felt as though she could actually see his dark eyes staring down at her. So she stared back at him. Challengingly. After a moment he moved away. She sighed. Was that what she had wanted? Partially. The other part of her had wanted him to come down her and talk her into going with him. Maybe even start courting her. Immediately.

Perhaps she should go and talk to him. She had thought of more questions—like what they would do if she was with child, which after the past few weeks was a distinct possibility—while she was down by the river.

Making her way back up the hill to the campsite, she barely noticed her surroundings, which was unusual for her. In fact, it wasn't until she got closer to Garrett's tent and heard the princess' lilting voice that she realized all three of her companions had disappeared.

"I swear, if you don't do as I say, I will lose my patience and strap your ass until you can't sit for a week," Garrett's voice growled.

"Yes, my Lord," the princess said with a moan.

She didn't know what made her do it, she didn't know why she didn't run just then, or go back down to the river, but it was as if she had to see it with her own two eyes so that she would never, ever be fooled by him again. It wasn't enough to hear the words, she needed to witness. To know, for certain.

"Don't call me that!" snapped Garrett at the same time that Bridget snapped the tent flap open. They were standing in the middle of the tent, Garrett holding the princess' hands above her head, stretching out her naked body so she was up on her tiptoes, her breasts brushing against his naked chest, they were standing so close. The princess had her head tilted back, obviously waiting for a kiss. The marks from Patrick's abuse were clear on her creamy skin, but they didn't detract from her beauty, and obviously Garrett didn't think so either. He turned his head with a snarl on his face, saw Bridget, and the snarl melted from his face. He looked absolutely horrified to see her standing there.

As well he should.

He'd tricked her again. No, she'd tricked herself. After all, she hadn't agreed to go with him and he had never said he wouldn't make the offer to the princess as well. Once again she'd been trapped by her own assumptions, her own wistful desires. Fury and hurt assaulted her like red, jagged streaks into her body, and it was only then that she realized she was running. Running away, through the forest, with no idea of what direction she'd gone in or where she was going to. She only knew she had to get away before she did something stupid, like trusting Garrett again. It was emotional survival. The whipping branches of the trees that she passed, the rocks and roots beneath her feet stung and bit at her skin and the pain felt good. She almost wished Patrick was still around, then he could whip her and hurt her until she didn't feel this great ripping pain in her chest anymore. Garrett's voice still echoed in her ears, calling out her name, and she ran even harder, trying to outrun the emotional pit that she'd fallen into.

********

It was better than watching a play.

First the little maid stood in the doorway of the tent and then all of the sudden she was tearing away and running for all she was worth, straight into the forest. His muscles tensed as his instincts screamed to run after her... if Garrett didn't, but then the other man came bursting out of the tent, wearing nothing but breeches, and looked around frantically. Hiding his smile, Samuel stood so Garrett could see him clearly and pointed to the direction the little maid had gone in. A tracker like Garrett wouldn't need more than that.

With a quick wave of thanks to Samuel, Garrett was off and running after the little maid, not bothering to pause for a shirt or anything else. A moment later the princess stepped out of the tent, completely buck naked and looking furious. Samuel laughed and she turned her head towards him, glaring through the momentary fear he saw flicker across her face.

Well here was one last service he could do for Garrett and the little maid.

Grinning toothily, knowing exactly how people reacted to his cruel smile, he began to walk towards the princess at a slow and steady pace, circling around slightly so that she would go in the direction that he wanted—away from Garrett and the maid.

"Run," he said just loudly enough for her to hear. She started to step towards the tent and he shook his head. "If you don't, I'll tie you up to a horse and send you through town as you are. This is your only chance, princess. Run."

She ran. Away from him, and since he'd angled himself well, away from Garrett and the maid. The sight of her bouncing buttocks, her flashing legs, was enough to get his blood up, especially since he'd already squelched his instinct to run after the little maid. Laughing happily he began to the chase, jogging fast enough that he could keep the out-of-shape woman in his sights, but not so fast it would be over too soon. After all, this time he wanted to completely exhaust her, because he planned on leaving her wherever she fell after he'd had his fun. He'd make sure to catch her close enough to town that she'd be able to make it there on her own, although he smirked to think of how she'd deal with arriving bare as a babe.

Unfortunately, his plans were upset when she ran almost smack dab into a small group of soldiers. Cursing, he faded back and off to the side, not wanting the get too close. They had surrounded her on their horses, talking to the naked woman. And, true to form, the saucy cunt was standing proudly in the center of them, probably demanding her rights as royalty. Samuel's mouth quirked. Not only was she an idiot, but she was in a worse situation than she probably realized. Obviously no one had taught her to recognize uniforms.

Those weren't French or English soldiers, those were Spanish. If she even was a princess, which Samuel had his doubts although he knew Garrett seemed to believe it—mostly because of Bridget—these were not soldiers who were going to be inclined to help her under normal circumstances, much less finding her naked and running through the woods.

Ah well. He'd already planned to leave her to her fate. Chuckling softly to himself, he watched as one of the men hopped down from his horse and bound the fighting woman's wrists behind her back before helping to lift her face down over the leader's saddle, her head and legs hanging off either side. The man's hand rested on her fine rump as they began to ride again, coming down with a hard slap, probably to try and shut up her screeching. Samuel laughed and headed back to the camp.

At least now he could take his time about finding a woman in town, he mused as he packed up his things and his payments. Maybe he could even find one as delightful as the little maid. He'd found he rather liked how excited she got when running from him and fighting him. He had to admit that perhaps Garrett was right about a woman's pleasure increasing a man's. Samuel just had to find the right kind of woman.

Looking around, he didn't see any sign of Garrett and the maid. Hopefully they were working things out. If not maybe he'd find the little maid later and take her for himself. Samuel had grown more attached to her than he ever had to any other woman. In the meantime, he'd look for one like her.

He made a small trail sign, indicating that he'd gone to town, in case Garrett wanted to find him later, and saddled up his horse. With one last glance off in the direction Garrett and the maid had gone in, Samuel headed in the direction of other women and beer.