Not for the first time, Garrett cursed the princess as he ran after Bridget. Fortunately, Samuel had pointed him in the correct direction. At first Garrett hadn't been sure whether or not to trust the other man, but as soon as he'd headed the way Samuel indicated he'd seen signs of quick passage. He was following her as quickly as he could, ignoring the stinging on his chest as he was scratched and whipped in his haste. Broken branches, deep footprints where there was dirt, a thoroughly scuffed path, displaced leaves and plants... she'd made it incredibly easy to follow her, but he didn't fool himself into thinking that it was because she wanted him to. The look on her face... pain pierced his chest like a lance. He never wanted to see that expression on her face, ever.

While watching her down at the river he'd decided he wanted to go join her but he didn't want her to feel pressured to talk to him, so he'd hit upon the excuse of needing to wash his clothes. He'd decided to take off his shirt and wash that too, in order to have as large a bundle of clothing to wash as possible. To spend as much time down there as possible. Instead the princess had followed him into the tent and then dropped her dress, practically throwing her naked body at him.

He thought she was a physically attractive woman, he found her personality repellant, and he was definitely not interested in engaging in any kind of intimacies with her. While he might enjoy a light spanking now and then and mixing just a little bit of pain with his pleasure, the princess' tastes ran so far beyond his that even if he wasn't enamored of Bridget he wouldn't be interested in the princess. He'd managed to push her away, keeping her away from him by trapping her wrists and holding them above her head. For some reason his rejection of her only seemed to make her more insistent until he'd lost his patience and threatened to strap her. Which, of course, had made her eyes light up and he'd been cursing himself for the useless threat when Bridget had opened the flap to the tent and seen them.

Suddenly he had been even more angry at himself for threatening to strap the princess, because Bridget knew the woman's proclivities as well as he did and from the way he'd been restraining the princess in the tent combined with the threat... Well he could understand why Bridget thought what she had. He wished she'd stayed put so he could explain. Now he was running after her through the woods and worrying she might trip and hurt herself or step on a sharp rock or any number of things.

At least she couldn't get lost, because he wouldn't let her. He would find her and bring her back to the camp, but he was quite sure that she was going to choose to go to town and leave him tomorrow. And then he would have to choose between hanging around and trying to get her to change her mind and returning home with the documents so that they could bring the traitorous nobles to justice.

Chasing after her, Garrett called her name until his voice was hoarse. And when he came upon her it was so suddenly that he almost ran right past her. Skidding to a stop, he fell down on all fours onto the ground beside where she was sitting, curled into a ball with her head between her knees.

"Bridget? Bridget, sweetheart, are you alright? Are you hurt?" Frantically, Garrett began checking over her, only to be halted when she slapped him across the face.

"Of course I'm not alright!" She lifted her tear-stained face to his and glared.

"Sweetheart, it wasn't what it looked like, I promise," he said, pleading and ignoring the stinging in his cheek where she'd slapped him. He hadn't known she had such a strong arm. But it didn't matter and he didn't begrudge her the hit. Gathering her into his arms, he held her close to his chest, ignoring the small fist that pounded against his bare skin. The way he was holding her didn't give her much room for leverage so she couldn't get another good hit in. "Please just listen to me. I know what it looked like, but it wasn't. She followed me into the tent and took off her dress before I could stop her, I was holding her away from me and I got so frustrated with how she was behaving that I threatened to strap her, but believe me, I get no pleasure from strapping a woman—even one who wants it—and I have no interest in her."

There was a long moment of silence.

"How do I know that I can believe you?" demanded Bridget. "I can't believe you don't find her attractive. She's beautiful."

Garrett snorted. "Her body and face are fair enough, but she's a viper. And I have no interest in laying with a snake."

Lifting her head, Bridget glared at him. "You had no problem the night Patrick gave her to you."

"To us, you mean," Garrett said, stressing the 'us'. He lifted an eyebrow at her. "I suppose you wouldn't believe me if I said I didn't lay with her that night either? I did my duty to preserve my identity when Patrick ordered me to participate, but beyond what you saw in the tent I didn't touch her. I didn't want to. I sat outside and listened to... well, I wanted to make sure you were safe."

"Did you want her at first?"

He sighed, but he wanted Bridget to trust him and that meant telling the truth. "Of course. As you said, she's beautiful. But the more I got to know the two of you, the less beautiful she became. I was not unhappy Patrick took her for himself, not when we had you—I would have preferred not to share—and after a few days I was relieved we had you and Patrick had her."

Staring up at him, she examined his face as if looking for signs of the truth or lies. Finally she looked away, out into the forest.

"My feet hurt," she said in a small voice.

Part of him wanted to demand to know if she believed him, but he figured she'd already had enough of demands from him. She'd need more time. "Then I will carry you back to the camp."

Standing, he pulled her into his arms with minimal protest, her head nestled against his shoulder, one arm beneath her knees and the other behind her back. She was lighter than she should be and he resolved to get her more food from now on. The way her head lay trustingly against his body gave him hope that perhaps she did believe him.

Doing his best to ignore his automatic reaction to having her soft, warm body in his arms, Garrett began the trek back to camp.

*********

The walk back gave Bridget plenty of time to ponder her actions. Confusion still overwhelmed her. Of course she wanted to believe Garrett, but she wasn't sure if her desire to believe him was negatively affecting her wits. It was as if all the mental and emotional turmoil of her time since her capture was all descending now, as if everything she should have been feeling every day was suddenly tumbling down on her all at once. She didn't know who to trust or what to believe, she only knew that she was confused and upset and she didn't know what was to become of her now.

Going on with the princess was an impossibility. Garrett was right, the woman was a viper. But she didn't know any way of life other than being a maid and she had no idea how to find a position in a strange house without anyone who knew her nearby. Would Garrett give her money to go home? Possibly. Except he wanted to keep her with him, he said. Could she see herself being courted by Garrett, possibly becoming his wife? She made a face into his shoulder. All too easily. At the same time though, she wasn't sure that was truly what he wanted as well.

It all came down to whether or not she could trust him. Events could have happened the way he claimed. Now that her emotions had calmed somewhat, her body too tired to maintain her anger and dismay, logic was slowly reasserting itself. After all, now that she had time to think about it, she'd never noticed Garrett having the same predilections as Patrick, and those activities were obviously what the princess had enjoyed. If Garrett wanted to do those things, wouldn't he have done them with her while he’d had the chance? Samuel certainly hadn't been shy about claiming either woman in his preferred way. Neither had Garrett, supposedly, and his way had been almost pure pleasure for Bridget.

Thinking to the future was muddling with her head. Before, all she'd thought about was escape. Now her options were so much more varied and so much more complex. How could she forgive Garrett for what he'd been party to? On the other hand, she could admire his loyalty to his family. Unless that was all another act. But if she didn't accompany him home to England, would she ever know the truth? She wanted so much to trust him, it would be so easy to believe everything he said because it was what she wanted to hear. Well, most of it anyway.

On the other hand, what reason did he have to lie to her now?

None as far as she knew. Unless he wanted her to accompany him willingly. But why would he try to convince her to accompany him willingly if that would only lead to the revelation of falsehoods? Oh, her thoughts were running around in circles and none of them seemed to make any true sense. So she gave up and leaned into Garrett, enjoying the feel of his smooth, slightly damp skin against her cheek. She'd become very good at living in the moment, not thinking about the future, and for right now it seemed easiest to just fall into that peace again. There'd be time to face the future soon enough.

The immediate future became much more pressing when they returned to the camp and found half of the belongings, Samuel, and the princess gone. Garrett sat Bridget down and made sure she was comfortable before he began to pace around the campsite, muttering under his breath and staring off into the woods. Next to the fire pit there was a small pile of wood and stones that he stared at before growling and cursing.

"We have to go into town," he announced.

"Why?" asked Bridget. While she'd been sitting and watching him pace she'd come to the conclusion that whatever she decided eventually, for now she wanted to know what was going on and why she was doing the things she was doing. Also, questioning Garrett would tell her more about him as a man. Would he be angry? Insulted? Not care?

It seemed the third.

"This is from Samuel," he said with a nod at the little stick and stone pile as he began to gather their things. "It's a trail marker that says he's headed in the direction that I happen to know town is in."

"Is the princess with him?"

"I don't know."

Bridget decided that she would go to town. As soon as she stood up to help, Garrett snapped at her to sit back down.

"I'm fine," she said stoutly. "And I'll have plenty of time to rest my feet while we're riding unless you're planning on making me walk."

He glared at her, but left it alone after that, mumbling under his breath about how he was trying to help her. It wasn't until Bridget went to load a pack onto a horse that she noticed there were three of them instead of four. When Garrett joined her and saw the same thing, his lips tightened and she knew they were both thinking the same thing. Who had the other horse? It must be Samuel, but then where was the princess?

********

For the first time in her life, the Princess Eleanor felt fear. The soldiers around her were speaking in Spanish and she cursed herself for not having recognized their accents before. The captain had her over his lap, which was distinctly uncomfortable and made more so by his caresses. Unfortunately, her body was also aroused by the vulnerability of her situation and the rope around her wrists, which meant that when he pushed his thick fingers into her pussy, she was wet for him. He laughed and showed his glistening fingers to the rest of the troop, who all laughed as well and called her a puta. She hadn't heard the word before, but she didn't need a translator to tell her its meaning.

"I am not!" she twisted her head around to glare at the Captain. "I am Princess Eleanor and you will regret this."

The captain laughed as he smacked her ass, hard enough to make her squeal, and the space between her legs throbbed with need. "Ah yes, a princess who runs naked through the woods. Very convincing."

"I told you, I was captured by bandits and I escaped. What are you, deaf or just an idiot?"

His hand came down again, harder, and she shuddered with delight as the hard smack sent a thrill of excitement through her.

"We will see," he said calmly.

She didn't understand that until they returned to their camp, which was outside of a nearby town. Wistfully she looked at the walls of the town, wishing that she'd made it there. Cursing Samuel, Garrett, and her whore of a maid, all of whom played a part in her current predicament.

What had gone wrong with Garrett? She still wasn't quite sure why he'd rushed out after the maid when they were just starting to get somewhere. He'd been about to strap her, which she had been quite excited about, and then he was running after the other tart. Perhaps an overblown sense of duty to anyone in his care. Although he really should have let Samuel catch the little whore, that was obviously his thing.

When they reached the camp, the captain dumped her off of his saddle and she fell in the dirt, glaring up at him. The captain gestured to a man who looped a rope around her neck and then tugged her to her feet.

"How dare you?" she asked, outraged. "I am a princess!"

The captain stared at her for a long moment, giving her the first really good look she'd had at him. He was swarthy and dark with a long patrician nose, black brows and hair and chocolate colored eyes that looked her over coldly. It was obvious his uniform was not padded in any way, he was extremely muscular with very broad shoulders. If he wasn't a Spaniard she might have thought him wildly attractive.

"Put her in the stocks," he said finally.

Her shrill screams were cut off by the rope around her neck as the other man half-dragged her away. They manhandled her into the uncomfortable wooden stocks so that she was bent over, still naked, her head and hands secured by the heavy wood while her breasts dangled beneath her. The men—there couldn't have been more than ten—had gathered around, laughing and watching, interspersed with a few women. Obviously whores, probably from the nearby town. Heat gathered in her face and chest, the overwhelming urge to cry, and she realized this must be what shame felt like.

Then she saw the captain coming towards her, a long leather strap in his hand and her body quivered. Stepping in front of her, he put the leather strap under her chin and lifted her head.

"You will tell me who you really are, or I will beat it out of you," he said conversationally.

"I am Princess Eleanor, daughter of King Pierre and Queen Maria of France," she said, regaining some of her hauteur. "And you are an imbecile.”

The captain smiled and walked around behind her. She heard the whistling of the strap moving through the air before it slammed into her buttocks and she screamed. He hit hard, so hard, without any warm up as Patrick usually did, and it felt so, so good. If she hadn't been panting through the pain, she would have laughed. The man obviously thought he had the upper hand, but he didn't know Eleanor.

"Who are you?" he asked again, as if one hit would make a difference.

"Princess Eleanor, daughter of—" she cut off with a cry as the strap came down hard across the back of her thighs. Her lower body danced to try and ease the smarting, stinging pain, even as the rest of her gloried in the throbbing ache. Clenching her fists, she bit back a moan as she felt her insides spasm, her hips rocking back and offering up her curvy buttocks for another hit. It came fast and hard and she cried out again.

"I will stop when you tell me the truth," the captain said calmly. And then he began to beat her in earnest. Eleanor screamed and danced, her hips working as she offered up her bottom again and again. It felt like one large throbbing mass of fiery flesh and her pussy clenched in rhythm with the pulsing pain, until suddenly the captain stopped.

"Did she piss herself?" she heard one of the other men ask, his voice cutting through the hazy fog of pleasure mixed with pain that she was wrapped in.

There was a pause and then a bark of laughter. "No, the slut's drenched." Another longer pause and then the captain was kneeling in front of her, his face staring up into hers. Eleanor's eyes were swollen from crying, but she was lost in a haze of pleasure, so close to orgasm that she was ready to start begging him to strap her again. "So you like the pain, do you?" His voice was soft, almost tender. "Then you will enjoy the Spanish. We have many... tools to use on women such as yourself. You will be greatly prized as a whore for us."

"I am the Princess Eleanor," she said and shuddered as she felt a man's hand on her breast, tugging harshly at her nipple.

"You are a whore and you shall be used like one," he said.

Before she could respond, something tight gripped her nipple, crushing the tender bud and Eleanor screamed. For a moment she danced, before realizing that the pain only increased as her breasts flopped around beneath her, and then with a short sob she forced herself to hold still and the pain faded just a little bit. As soon as she was still she looked down into the captain's face, which was grinning at her.

"Ready to tell the truth yet?"

"I am telling you the truth," she said, although she couldn't work up any anger right now. The throbbing pain in her breast had heated her core and all she could think about was how much she wanted to be fucked. Fingers pinched at her other nipple and she moaned, her body trembling. This time she knew what to expect and she held still, breathing through the pain, her eyes glazing as she teetered on the edge of climax.

The captain stood and walked back around behind her. Only a moment later, his cock was thrusting roughly into her overheated tunnel, filling her completely and she screamed in ecstasy as her body spasmed around the rutting captain. He fucked her hard and fast, his hand coming down hard on her already bruised buttocks and sending her into new heights of pleasure as her orgasm went on and on.

With every hard thrust her breasts flopped, her nipples protesting the abuse, sharp pains shooting through her, and her pussy only clasped the captain tighter, the hot friction bringing her even more pleasure as he rutted her hard. By the time she felt him shooting his seed inside of her she'd lost track of her orgasms.

Another hard cock replaced his, pushing into her as soon as she was empty, and she moaned. Behind her a line had formed, all ten of the men with this particular troop. The captain came back around to stand in front of her, watching as she was fucked by each of his men.

Halfway through they took off whatever was on her nipples and she screamed again as blood flowed back into the tender buds. They felt swollen to twice their size and the men took great pleasure in tugging and twisting the sensitive nubbins. The entire time, the captain directed the entire flow of men, standing over her with his arms crossed on his chest, so that every time she looked up he filled her vision.

Once the last man was through with her, she was taken down from the stocks, her pussy gaping and overflowing with seed. It spilled down her legs and dropped to the ground beneath her. She felt muzzy and drained from overuse and too many climaxes. Two men, one holding each of her arms, helped her to kneel in front of the captain. The captain put his fingers beneath her chin and tilted her head back to look up at him, his dark eyes cold and calculating. It sent a shiver down her spine. She couldn't take much more of this, not without food or water or sleep. Her body was exhausted, begging for rest, and her pussy felt swollen and chafed from the amount of cocks that she'd serviced.

Patrick had given her a taste of being a common whore when she had tried to escape, but he had known her true worth. This man in front of her, he denied her heritage and gave her over to common soldiers without a second thought. There was none of the special treatment, no acknowledgment of her status. Because to this man she wasn't a princess.

"What is your name?" he asked.

She licked her lips.

"What is your name?"

"Eleanor," she said softly.

His lips twitched, as if he wanted to smile.

"Good girl. Eleanor, I now claim you as my own personal whore." He stood again, undoing his breeches and shoving his cock in her face. It was half hard and still smelled of her sex juices. Gripping her hair, he pushed his cock into her mouth and it began to thicken and lengthen as he continued to speak, his hips thrusting in as he fucked her mouth. "Your only duty will be to please me, whether that be by sucking my cock or fucking all of my men, that will be what you will do. I am now your Lord and Master."

The soft noises she made might have been an attempt to speak or they might have just been an attempt to remove him from where he was lodged in her throat. With the other two men holding her arms, she had no way of controlling the rough treatment of her mouth. Her new Lord and Master eyed the two men that were holding her.

"In fact, once I'm done with your mouth, you will suck these two off to show my gratitude for their current assistance." Eleanor gargled around the cock in her throat as he smiled down at her, looking pleased. "And then we will eat and retire."

Five years later the 'Lady' Eleanor was one of the most greatly admired and coveted mistresses of the Spanish military officers, but her favors could only be acquired through the permission of her Lord and Master. She no longer thought of herself as a princess at all, indeed, she found she was far happier being her Master's whore.

**********

Blaine awoke to an aching head and body. He felt as if someone had pummeled him. Which, someone had. What the hell had happened? The tension between Garrett and Patrick would have been obvious to a blind man, but he hadn't expected Samuel to take Garrett's side. Personally, Blaine hadn't had any fondness for any of them, but he had been willing to continue following Patrick. After all, following Patrick had made him rich.

Rolling onto his side, Blaine forced himself to his feet, finding his flask at his side. He took a long pull of it, letting the alcohol burn off some of the fuzziness that he still felt. Grappling with Samuel was not an experience that he ever wanted to repeat. Wincing, he rotated his shoulder, feeling the ache in the joint from where Samuel had wrenched his arm. Damn the man.

Looking around, Blaine was surprised to see he hadn't been completely deserted. The horses and tents were gone, but there was some food left, some packs with his clothes, and—most shockingly of all—his share of the booty that they'd collected. In fact, his things hadn't been touched at all. For a long moment Blaine just stood there, staring.

They had left him with everything he needed to survive. Not just that, but they hadn't stolen from him. Frowning, he began to gather his things, mulling over events in his head. By the time he was completely packed he had come to several decisions. There was no point in chasing after them. After all, they'd hardly trust him now, and with them on horses and him on foot he'd never catch them. There was also no point in trying to get any kind of revenge. He didn't feel any particular loyalty to Patrick, especially now the man was a corpse.

Wincing again, Blaine began walking, figuring he'd get as far as he could before nightfall. Perhaps it was time to retire from this game. The reason he'd begun this career was because it was a quick and easy way to get rich, but it was also a gamble, and any good card player knew when it was time to leave the table. And Blaine considered himself a very good card player.

With the booty that he'd collected he could easily return to his hometown, laden with 'treasure' from his travels, and set himself up in a house. Maybe even get a wife. He wouldn't mind having a woman around to fuck on a regular basis, as long as she was quiet and didn't bother him. The little maid had been nearly perfect like that. Too bad they hadn't left her behind. Part of the appeal of offing Garrett had been knowing there would be one less person to share her with.

But what would he do?

Well, with the money he had, perhaps he could buy that inn he’d once dreamed of having. And then hire others to run it for him. Reap the rewards without having to run his fingers to the bone with work. That was the whole point of amassing the amount of money he had anyway.

Plus, then he could hire some wenches, for serving and extras. And, of course, as owner, he would be able to avail himself of those extras when he wanted. A whole inn full of compliant wenches. Hmm. He liked this idea. Maybe he wouldn't need a wife after all.

Happy now, knowing what he wanted, Blaine trudged through the forest, away from his life of crime and into the future.

*******

They found Samuel in one of the three taverns in town, drinking and dicing. Garrett nodded to him, but led Bridget to a table off to the side, away from the gaming. He grinned when he saw them, finishing out his game and coming to join them at their table.

"Found the little maid I see," he said.

"I did, where's the princess?" Garrett responded abruptly. And then wished he hadn't because next to him Bridget winced. Despite his reassurances, he could tell she was jealous of the other woman, and it wasn't that he didn't understand exactly... it was just he knew very well she had no reason to be and so her lack of trust in him grated.

"Captured."

"What?"

"She ran off through the woods towards town. I followed her but she got picked up by a troop of soldiers. Looked like the Spanish." Samuel shrugged. "The odds were bad, so I let her go. If nothing else they'll probably ransom her off."

Garrett chewed his lip. Some part of him insisted he should go after the princess. Although by now the marriage negotiations must have fallen apart considering she hadn't arrived the way she was supposed to. Royalty could move awfully fast when it came to making and breaking alliances, especially when one of the parties to an arranged marriage didn't show up. His main duty, however, was to get the documents home.

While he wanted to be a better man for her, it was hard to in these circumstances. Besides, he couldn't really think of what he could do against a troop of soldiers, especially since he'd have two women with him. And there was no way he was putting Bridget in danger. The only other option would be to leave her here in town while he went to rescue the princess on his own, which would leave Bridget unguarded and he might not even succeed. Besides, his priority was Bridget now, period. The princess had already shown she could survive—even flourish—in captivity.

Finally he nodded.

"Alright then." Both Samuel and Bridget eyed him, Samuel curiously and Bridget suspiciously. "So what will you do now?"

Samuel shrugged and glanced at Bridget. "A little of this and that."

"She knows," Garrett said and Samuel gave a start of surprise.

"Ah. Well then. Still this and that until I get a contact from your father or pick up some information on my own that might be of interest to someone. I was thinking I might go to Paris, see what happens there. I'll be able to let you know when—if—a ransom for the Princess comes in."

"Paris?" Garrett mused. "Yes, that might be best."

"You're off to England?"

Garrett glanced at Bridget, but her face was blank. "Yes, tomorrow morning. I need to beat any messengers Lord Navarre might send back to England.”

"Best of luck to you then," said Samuel. "Tell your father I'll be headed towards Paris eventually. I'll send him messages as I need to." The men shook hands and Samuel smiled at Bridget. "A kiss for the road, little maid?"

Growling, Garrett pulled her back and Samuel laughed before sauntering back off toward the games.

Deciding he didn't want to stay in the same inn as Samuel, even if the man was marginally trustworthy, Garrett escorted Bridget back out into the street, leading her down to the nicer of the other two inns.

"We'll stay here for the night," he said.

Bridget finally spoke up. "Oh will we?" Her voice was sarcastic and uncooperative, and she crossed her arms in front of her, halting them in the common room of the inn.

"Please Bridget," he pleaded in a low voice, turning his back to the room so that no one there could overhear or see what was happening. Bridget was an attractive woman and he didn't want anyone to think that she was without protection. "Let me get a room and we'll talk. Or not. Whatever you want for tonight. But I do have to leave tomorrow and I do really hope that you come with me."