"Wait!" she heard him yell, as the cool, green darkness of the forest swallowed her up. "Wait, ye wee fool!"
Paisley kept going. She had no other choice, really. Was he following her? Paisley thought she'd heard the crash of somebody plowing through the undergrowth behind her, but it was hard to hear over the pounding of blood in her own ears, and her own hoarse breathing.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, a voice was warning her that this was a bad,badidea. You could get lost in these woods, people had said. Easily. How far had she gone in?
She'd run in a straight line, so surely all she had to do was turn and retrace her steps. Easy. She would be fine, just fine. People said that it was MacLennan land, whatever that meant, and they said it somberly and seriously.
"Dark and dangerous, like him," somebody had said, and she hadn't bothered to ask for any clarification.
It was a mistake, of course. Thorny branches snatched at her skirts, and she heard the shrill sound of fabric tearing. That would be hours hunched over the material by the light of a single candle, fingertips stinging as she tried to darn up the tear.
Paisley had always had people to mend her torn clothes. It was so easy. If she needed a repair done to a garment, a maid would arrive and fix it, with stitches so neat Paisley could never find them again.
Now, she found herself forced to make her own repairs, laboring for far too long over things as simple as sewing back on a button. Ava laughed at her, and Paisley was too proud to ask for help.
A low-hanging branch with vicious thorns swept towards her, and Paisley ducked automatically, narrowly avoiding being blinded. She forced herself to run on, skirts hitched up as far as she could.
It was too dark to see her own feet, or even very far ahead of her, and she could feel her toes catching on raised tree roots and knots of weeds. She could break an ankle out here and nobody would ever know.
Would anyone tell my brother and sister that I was dead?she thought.What about Mama and Papa?
She could imagine it now, almost hear her mother's muffled sobs echoing around the silent halls, her father sitting beside his wife, face ashen with grief.
Maybe it would be better if I were dead. Then they could shrug off the shame of having me as a daughter,Paisley thought bitterly.
Abruptly, the earth fell out from underneath her. She shrieked, arms windmilling to keep herself balanced, but it was no good. She'd gone past the point of no return and toppled forward into the dark abyss below.
Well, almost.
An iron grip closed around her wrist, hauling her round and back to solid ground. Paisley's own momentum carried her along, and she would have sprawled out on the ground if she hadn't hit a firm, solid body with athud.
"Ouch," she gasped, trying to steady herself.
Time seemed to slow down for a moment, and Paisley held her breath.
It was, of course, the grim-faced barkeep, who'd followed her out here. She would admit to feeling a twinge of relief that it wasn't the bald man who was so convinced that she was a cheat, or any of his vile friends.
Still, the man had no business following her out here.Chasingher. If Paisley had been at home, her papa would have had him whipped for his insolence.
Probably, anyway. It was hard to imagine the austere barkeep allowing anyone to whip him, under any circumstances. Those five men had fled before him like scolded dogs, tails tucked between their legs. Obviously, the man's reputation was not exaggerated.
He was looking down at her with a strange expression that she couldn't quite read, partly because of the darkness, and partly because he just had one of those hard-to-read faces.
Paisley was conscious that she was pressed right up against him, his hand loosely coiled around her wrist, her other hand flat against his chest. She could feel tight, corded muscles rising and falling under her palm with every breath he took, and it was easy to wonder what those well-formed muscles might look like without the layers of cloth and linen covering them.
A flush rose to her cheeks that had nothing to do with her recent mad dash.
You are a lady,Paisley told herself fiercely.You don't have such thoughts about gentlemen.
She cleared her throat, pointedly stepping back. She could see now that the abyss she'd nearly fallen into was in fact a small cliff, dropping away into a pit about twenty feet deep. She mighthave survived the drop, but it was unlikely she would have escaped without at least a broken bone.
"Ye ought to be careful in these parts," the man said, still staring at her with those odd, pale eyes. "Never leave the path. The woods are treacherous. Lots of sudden drops, like this." He indicated the cliff that Paisley had nearly tumbled off. She blushed, feeling silly.
"Yes, well, I was being chased. I told you to leave me alone," she responded acidly. "Not that I'm ungrateful," she added. "That's the second time you've saved my life tonight, I think."
"Don't exaggerate," he responded tartly.
He doesn't like me,Paisley thought, not entirely sure why that idea made her feel so cold and disappointed.
