Page 4 of Almost a Countess

She replaced the stopper on thevial—it took her three tries she was shaking so badly from hisabrupt awakening—and slid it back into her pocket, then stoodgawking at him. Trying to make sense of the fact there was anescaped prisoner not three feet from her.

He frowned, his gaze narrowing. “I kenye understand who I am, dae ye no’?”

Heart in her throat, Dora managed ashort nod.

“Ye seem tae be acompassionate person, so I’ll dare tae ask ye tae help me, lass.”The menacing look had disappeared, replaced by anguish. “I cannalet them take me again. They mean tae dae me grave harm before theytake me tae the authorities. If they take me.”

“What did you do?” Dorabacked up another step. Was he dangerous? It made a big differenceif the man was a murderer or merely a thief. She glanced toward herhorse. How quickly could she reach Gretchen, who stood quietlycropping grass nearby? Though how she planned to get up on thehorse, should she reach her first, she had no idea. Perhaps sheshould simply make a run for it. If his leg was truly injured, sheshould be able to outdistance him quickly.

“No’ what they accuse meo’. I did a foolish thing, no’ a treasonable one. But thelieutenant disna see it that way and wants tae make me pay forsomething I dinna dae.”

It sounded reasonable, but wouldn’tall prisoners say such things? This was the thanks she got fortrying to do a good deed. Dora sighed. She needed to find out howserious a threat this man was to her. “What did youdo?”

“I wore thisglaikit kilt is what I did.” His anger seemed pointed athimself, not her. “And in their thirst for my blood, they dinnacare that I hold a title, or that my father fought for the bloodyBritish.”

“They arrested you forwearing a piece of clothing?” Surely he was having her on. “Ihardly think—”

“Lass, I dinna think itwise tae bandy words here when Lieutenant Scarlet and his men couldride up on us at any moment. If ye’ve no’ met the lieutenant, Isuggest ye no’ dae it alone in a field with an escaped prisoner atyer side. I guarantee the man will no’ be pleased with ye, andye’ll feel his displeasure keenly.” He touched the cut on hisforehead. “Ye can trust me in that if nothing else.”

Suddenly more afraid of the soldiersthan the prisoner, Dora scanned the fields for any movement. ThankGod all was still. Returning her gaze to the man before her, shetook in his appearance once more. On closer inspection, his shirt,though torn, was of excellent quality, as was the fabric of hisbright kilt. And his boots, though muddy, were expensive. He’dclaimed to have a title. Was he indeed a gentleman? Could she trusthim? Overwhelmed with the decision she needed to make, Dora simplystared at the man before her, not knowing what to do.

A look of resignation came over hisface. “I canna blame ye, lass, if ye dinna wish tae trust me.” Hepointed to Gretchen. “If ye’ll call yer wee beastie, I’ll give ye aleg up. I dinna wish yer blood on my hands should Scarlet and hismen find us here.”

The earnest concern in his face saidhe told the truth—he’d allow her to leave him here to the merciesof the soldiers. And she’d have his blood on her hands if she did.How exasperating. “Are you too hurt to sit a horse?”

“I’m no’ hurt sae bad Icanna ride,” he said cautiously.

There seemed no other way around it.He must go with her. Dora sighed, hoping she was doing the rightthing. “Come on, then.”

His shoulders slumped in relief thatwas short-lived as he cast a doubtful look at Gretchen. “Will thewee beastie bear us both?”

“She will if I ask herto.” Dora paused, head up, gazing over the field one more time.“Wait.” If the soldiers appeared now, they’d be in a pinch forsure.

The man had ducked back down,flattened himself along the embankment. Almost melted into theweeds and grasses, scarcely visible save his bright kilt. “Are theycoming?”

“No,” Dora tugged on hergloves, “but they’ve been seen in the village and out at one of thetenant cottages. We need to get you to my father’s estate, asquickly as possible.” She peered down at him, and her stomachflipped alarmingly. His piercing eyes seemed to bore right throughher. She shook the strange feeling off. All that mattered now wasescaping undetected. She offered him her hand. “Do you need myhelp?”

He ignored it and struggled to hisfeet, wincing as he put weight on his left leg. “I’ll mount firstthen pull ye up behind me.”

Not the answer she’d been expecting.Dora narrowed her eyes. If she relinquished the reins to this man,he could take Gretchen and strand her here to walk all the way backhome. She couldn’t chance it. “I’m riding sidesaddle, so I need tomount first. I won’t be able to mount without your assistance.Besides,” she looked pointedly at him, “I hardly think you want towrap your leg around the pommel.”

Looking her up and down, he grinnedwickedly, bringing out dimples in each of his cheeks. “A kilt ismost accommodating for such things, lass.” He took a step forwardand winced.

“Is it your leg that’shurt?” Dora peered frankly at the man’s legs, quite on display fromthe knees down. Muddy, but well-shaped. “Or is it yourknee?”

“Ankle. I landed wrongwhen my horse threw me.” He eased onto the leg gingerly. “I can putsome weight on it, sae I dinna think it broken. However, if I treadfull on it, the pain is excruciating.” He tried to ease up besideGretchen, but the horse shied away. “Ye’d best claim yer beastie. Icanna catch her in my present condition.”

Giving him a long-suffering look, Doraclucked to Gretchen and the well-trained horse trotted up toher.

“Impressive.” The man’seyes held new respect for her.

“Which ankle isinjured?”

“The left.”

She looked at him dubiously. “Are youable to mount?”

“I’ll manage, lassie.” Hesmiled broadly. “If ye’ll bring yer beastie t’Muhammad,please?”