She felt a sharp jolt of fear at the thought of being out in the middle of nowhere, alone in the dark. Were there bandits? Dangerous wild animals? Gypsies? Why hadn’t she considered the possible dangers before? Her father had always accused her of being rash, of not thinking things through.
With a strangled sob, she touched her heels to Daisy’s sides. There had to be a town nearby, she thought desperately. There just had to be.
It was going on dusk when an owl flew in front of the mare. Startled, Daisy reared and Bryony went tumbling over the mare’s rump. She landed hard, her left arm scraping against a jagged rock protruding from the ground. For a moment, she lay there, too stunned to move. And then she noticed a sudden wetness on her arm. Afraid to look, she glanced at her left arm, felt her stomach churn at the long, shallow gash visible through the rip in her sleeve. It ran from her elbow to her wrist.
Tears welled in her eyes. She was lost, helpless, bleeding. Running away had seemed like such a good idea in the safetyof her room. Now, her back and shoulders and thighs ached from hours in the saddle. Her arm throbbed. At least Daisy hadn’t run off.
Struggling to her feet, Bryony opened the basket, removed the large napkin and wrapped it around her arm. It immediately turned red with blood. Fear curdled in the pit of her stomach. She might bleed to death out here. Scavengers would feast on her when she died and no one would ever know what had happened to her.
Darkness flowed across the land. Curling into a tight ball, the reins clutched in one hand, she closed her eyes and prayed that someone would find her before it was too late.
Stefan rose with the setting of the sun and knew with his first breath that Bryony wasn’t in the house. He dressed hastily, stomped into his boots, and went to question the maids and then Mrs. Mulgrew, who informed him that Bryony had gone riding in the morning and hadn’t returned.
He stormed out to the barn, his fear and his rage growing when he learned she had ridden out alone. Damn! Foolish girl, to ride off into the countryside unaccompanied. In spite of her strong desire to go home, he had credited her with better sense than to try to run away when she was unfamiliar with the territory. He stood there, nostrils flared, searching for the mare’s scent. He found it quickly enough, cursed again when he saw the direction Bryony had taken. Where the hell did she think she was going? There wasn’t a town for more than seventy miles in the direction she had chosen.
With preternatural speed, he followed the mare’s trail, stopping where Bryony had stopped for lunch, taking a quick look around, and then moving on.
Fear coiled in the pit of his stomach when he caught the scent of fresh blood. Bryony’s blood.
He found her curled on the ground in a tight ball, shivering from the cold and loss of blood, her pale cheeks tracked with tears. Daisy stood hipshot near her mistress. She snorted softly when Stefan materialized beside her and patted her neck.
Kneeling beside Bryony, he smoothed the hair from her brow. Gently, he peeled the cloth from around her arm. The fabric was covered with dried blood. When he removed it, he noticed drops of fresh blood oozing from where the cut was the deepest. Lowering his head, he ran his tongue the length of her arm, licking away the blood while his saliva healed the long, shallow gash.
She woke abruptly, a startled cry on her lips.
“All is well,” he said quietly. “Do not be afraid.”
She stared up at him, relief in her eyes when she recognized him, even though it meant he would take her back to his house. She sat up, her hands tightly clasped in her lap.
“What am I going to do with you, fair Bryony?” he murmured. “I know you are afraid of me now. I know you want to go home, back to your family. But how can I let you go? My life had no meaning until you stumbled into my lair.”
She had no answer, merely looked at him. Her first thought on seeing him had been to throw her arms around him. But then she remembered his hellish red eyes and the wordvampireechoed in her mind. He had fangs. He had bitten her. Drank her blood. She frowned when she realized her arm no longer hurt. She risked a quick glance, her eyes widening when there was no sign of an injury. How was that possible? She slid a glance at Stefan. Had he used some kind of magic to heal the injury?
“Do you want to stay here?” he asked. “Or go back with me?”
She stared at him, eyes wide. Would he really leave her out here, alone in the dark, if that was what she wanted?
“The nearest town is a day’s ride away.”
She glowered at him, anger dissolving her fear. He had no intention of letting her stay there, just as he knew that she wouldn’t remain out here, alone, with no food and no water and no idea where the town was. “Are you going to make me say it?” she snapped, surging to her feet.
He nodded.
“Fine! I want to go back with you.”
With a faint smile, he lifted Bryony onto the mare’s back and swung effortlessly up behind her, his arm circling her waist. Bryony frowned. Did he really mean for them to ride double all the way back to his house?
“Fear not,” he whispered, his breath caressing her neck. “A bit of magic will see us home in no time at all.”
She gasped as the world spun out of focus. There was a ringing in her ears, the sense of floating through space. When she opened her eyes again, they were in the yard near the barn.
He slid off the mare’s back, then lifted Bryony from the saddle and into his arms.
Not meeting Stefan’s eyes, Hawkins came forward, took Daisy’s reins, and led the mare into the barn.
“You can put me down now,” Bryony said.
“I think not. I like holding you.”
