Kenna proddedher mount to follow. She had the horse she needed. If she weren’t around to tie up, she wouldn’t need a knife, and the fools were riding away.
Behind her lay freedom.
The last man looked back to check her progress, so she kicked her horse into a gallop. That seemed to please him enough to return his attention to the road. After he and the others crested the hill, she reined in her horse and turned in the opposite direction.
Apologizing to the poor confused animal, she slapped it with the reins until they were flying down the road. She only had a short time to gain a lead before they realized she was not the broken spirit they assumed her to be.
The sun was long gone. It would be full dark in moments, and she still had one major problem. She was wearing the equivalent of a ship’s sail while trying to escape into the night. The blasted gown would fairly glow in the dark.
But the shift she wore beneath her clothes was deep blue!
Relying on childhood riding skills taught by her brother, she instinctively shed her precious boots to gain more control. She put the leads between her teeth then, leaning forward, she pressed her hands down on the rim of the seat and cautiously shifted her weight to them as she lifted her body into the air. Hoping the blessedly dark beast beneath her would cooperate, she placed her feet in the saddle, one ahead of the other, and slowly rested her weight back on them and stood.
So far, so good.
While talking soothingly to the horse, she fell into the rocking rhythm of its gait. She twice tested her balance thendragged her hated gown up over her head. She stripped it off her arms and encouraged the animal again. Although the wind against her was no longer warmed by the sun, the feeling of near-flight was exhilarating and it took a moment before she could force herself to ease down onto the saddle once more. The beacon of her dress was forgotten on the road behind her, and she held her cooled legs against the deliciously warmed leather of the saddle.
Freedom was going to be wonderful.
She tried to anticipate what the men would do next. Though she knew they were much more fatigued than she, she expected that her commander was just as diligent as she was determined. It would not be easy besting him, and though his men may wish it, he would hardly bid her good riddance after fighting so hard to keep her.
No. He would anticipate exactly what she had done—try to outrun them.
If she left the road now, in the welcome dark, they would hopefully charge right past her.
She slowed her mount and urged it to the left, barely hesitating before plunging into the darkness beyond. Deep into the trees, she decided she had gone far enough. She dismounted and laid her head against that of her horse, the hard skull a familiar anchor in the unfamiliar world. Patting its nose, that soft smooth fur that gave every horse its charm, she discouraged any nickering…
Moments before…
Tearloch and Duncan stopped their horses at the top of the rise. Outrage had spurred them back this far, only to have theirseething dissipate like so much steam as they watched the sight before them.
Their prey, this vexing fairy disguised as a woman, was clad in white and standing atop a galloping horse, stripping her clothes off in the gloaming. By the time they watched the garment drift to earth, they were both bewitched. Only when they noticed how she was vanishing into the night did they shake themselves free of the spell and move on.
Duncan shook his head. “Do ye reckon Malcolm taught her that trick?”
Tearloch shouted over his shoulder, “Or she taught him!”
They rode hard. Duncan only slowed to scoop up boots and again to gather the discarded gown while Tearloch continued to keep the woman in sight. He expected her to leave the road soon and he didn’t want to chance losing her.
He gave her due credit for choosing to return on her own the first time, but he had yet to discover why. She’d come very close to slipping away! He should be proud to have earned the hand of one so clever and brave, but at the moment, it only terrified him. Indeed, the likelihood of reaching Lochahearn with her still in his grasp grew less and less by the minute!
She rode like the devil had taken the spurs to her horse, and her commotion was enough to drown out their own. Her mount slowed suddenly and with a quick motion to Duncan, the two of them sprang off the road. They slid silently to the ground and left their horses in the shadows to edge back to the roadside to take a look.
She was gone.
“She’s left the road on this side,” Tearloch whispered.
“Agreed.”
“I doubt myself she will go far. These woods are dark enough to scare even the likes of her.”
“Surely.”
He snorted. “Possibly.”
They never took their gaze off the road as they spoke.
Tearloch mused. “Shall I just run her down and beat her?”
