“Perhaps that’s what you want after all, innit?” he said. “A strong man to take you in hand and show you what’s proper? I vow I’m that man. You’ll be—” He slowed his advance, and his gaze went to the woods behind her. “Who the bloody hell is that?”
“Ha. Nice try,” Finley said with a smirk and let her final missile fly. The smooth, heavy rock struck him squarely in his long, undulating nose, and Eachann Todde made a slow descent onto his back on the bridge.
But then the sound of hooves in the thick detritus of the forest floor emerged over the rush of blood in her ears and Finley felt her eyes widen and her mouth draw down in a grimace. She turned slowly, slowly, to look behind her and, indeed, there was a black-clad stranger approaching on the bridge path, astride a magnificent, inky horse.
“Oh nae,” she breathed.
The stranger was at the ingress of the bridge in but a moment, reining his mount to an obedient halt. He was striking in appearance, pale, tall, his costume exquisite and perfect, as if he’d just ridden out of a true bard’s own heroic song. He barely glanced at the bridge behind Finley before addressing her.
“Bonsoir, mademoiselle. Is this the bridge that leads into Carson Town?”
Finley swallowed, thinking of the body of Eachann Todde lying on the planks in plain sight, and how both she and the man astride were patently ignoring the fact of him. “Aye. It is. Who are you to be asking?”
The man gave a bow from his saddle. “Sir Lucan Montague, Knight of the Most Noble Order of the Garter of His Majesty, King Henry of England, at your service.”
Finley’s knees went watery.
Thankfully, the man continued to speak. “I’m surprised to find such accommodating passage. My intelligence informed me that I would scarce be able to bring my horse into the town with me; I was much concerned for Agrios’s welfare.”
“The bridge is new. I mean, it’s been here about ten years,” Finley said, the words bursting from her mouth as her tongue seemed to have caught up with her brain at last. “The Blairs built it for when the salmon run. It was little more than a plank and a rope up against the falls before that,” she assured him.
The knight seemed intrigued. “I see. Well, I’ve an important message from London to deliver to the Carson elders. Will you allow me to pass, or am I fated to end up like that poor fellow dare I attempt it? It appears as though he’s had a swim as well.”
“Oh, I’m nae—” Finley stammered, gesturing behind her awkwardly, just as Eachann Todde began to groan. “He was—we were…” She looked back up at Lucan Montague, could feel the tips of her ears tingling. “Please, go on. I’m afraid I canna move him, though.”
“May I assist you in that endeavor?” the knight inquired. “I could easily carry him to the town across my saddle. My horse is trained to transport the wounded.”
Now Finley’s entire face felt afire. “I’m sure he’ll be fine.” Behind her, Eachann groaned again. “This happens all the time.”
“To him, or to you?” The knight stared at her without any expression whatsoever.
Finley wanted to shrivel away to nothing. “I’ll manage. Thank you.”
Lucan Montague’s thin lips quirked. “As you wish, mademoiselle.” He gave her another bow from his saddle. “Au revoir.”
Finley stood aside as the English knight clucked to his mount and urged the fine beast onto the bridge. She held her breath as horse and rider came to the sprawled body of Eachann Todde, but the magnificent Agrios lifted each hoof as daintily as a woman holding her skirts aloft to tread a muddied street, and a moment later, Lucan Montague was trotting around the bend of the trail and disappeared into the wood.
The man on the bridge was rousing in earnest now, and as her temper had cooled, Finley was not at all interested in reviving her row with the toady man. Let him run to the elders and tell them all how mean and ungrateful she had been to him. Finley was sure no one would be surprised, and the sooner Eachann Todde was on his own way, the sooner she could follow the intriguing English knight to find out what sort of message would needs come to the Carson fine all the way from London.
Finley gathered her skirts and turned back to the woods, ducking behind a wide oak tree just as Eachann pulled himself up into a seated position. She peeked around the trunk, watching him raise his hand to his face, gingerly testing his nose with his fingers. She ducked down further as he raised his gaze and looked about him.
“Finley Carson!” he bellowed, and then winced and clutched his head.
Finley rested her back against the trunk and closed her eyes with a sigh. All bravado aside, she would hear about this from the elders. Probably for weeks. Not a word would be said against Eachann Todde for his vulgarity and familiarity with her, of that she was certain.
She opened her eyes and turned her face slightly to the right, listening intently for footsteps on the bridge, indicating that Eachann Todde had given up and was on his way back to the town. But her eyes caught a flash of white against the tree directly across from her.
There crouched a man wearing a Blair shawl about his head and shoulders, staring at her. He raised his forefinger to his lips in silent plea in the same moment as she, and Finley opened her fingers to stifle her incredulous giggle.
In all the twenty years of her life, Finley could not recall traders venturing to this remote part of the Highlands, nor merchants by ship into their tiny bay. But in the past hour, she had met two strangers just outside town.
At last, the echoing sound of erratic stomps could be heard on the bridge, and Finley dared to lean around the trunk of the tree just as the man across from her moved slowly at a crouch to watch for himself Eachann Todde weaving down the path toward Carson Town. In a moment, there was nothing on the air but the evening cries of the birds calling their mates home.
Finley looked back to the man and was shocked to see that he was already halfway across the distance separating them. Her heart knew a moment’s fear.
“You’re nae supposed to be here,” he said, looking down at her sternly.
“I’m nae supposed to be here?” Finley scrambled to her feet and backed away a pair of steps but then stopped; he wasn’t going to get away with trying to intimidate her. “Sure, you’re violating the treaty just as much as I.”
