“He wasn’t fast enough to completely escape the thrust of the nobleman’s hunting knife. The tip of Lord Humphrey’s weapon gouged his leather vest at waist level. Rafe stumbled under the assault. The old man pursued, his teeth bared. Bagot’s next blow was low and fast but not fast enough. Catching Lord Humphrey’s wrist, Rafe gave the smaller nobleman, a man thirty years older and two stones lighter, a goodly shove. Hissing in frustration, Bagot fell back, grabbing a handful of Rafe’s clothing as ...he went. It was a strange, panting dance they did, one attacking, the other retreating, while both fought for footing. A woman screamed. Kate? From all across the glade, men shouted. Relief shot through Rafe. Their voices were the sound of aid coming his way. Again Lord Humphrey tried to drive his knife into his enemy’s gut. Rafe’s fingers tightened on the old man’s wrist to hold him at bay. It was all the defense he dared. Thief or not, Bagot was still his better. Only a man with a death wish struck his better.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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