In the end, she could only lie there, rocking with the movement of the horse walking wherever Hugo was taking her. Her mind spun—Hugo Beauford had appeared and kidnapped her. It was like a horrible dream hearkening back to the days when she’d dreamed about running into either of the Beauford brothers. Saying that, Hugo Beauford looked nothing like she would have expected, although he was recognisable, having grown from the lanky fourteen-year-old boy she associated with him. He was a man now, and a knight by the looks of him; although that was not a surprise. His father had been as well. "This is completely ridiculous," she said. "You cannot mean to take me back to England, cross the whole world because 'he' wants to have a word. I won't stand for it." But he ignored her. She could hear him walking. "Release me now, Hugo Beauford, or I'll … " "You'll what? Scream? You haven't changed a bit." He had though. His voice wasn't the high, cracking ear-sore it had been.
