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“Help me” was all she managed. It was far from the eloquent speech she’d practiced, and it conveyed none of the information she’d hoped would appeal to the honor which she knew he had in abundance. Clarissa had planned to quickly explain that she needed his escort, without which her father would either cast her out as her husband had done or promptly promise her to another equally wretched potential husband.

But no other words came out.

Luckily, it seemed she did not need them. Whether it was the fear in her eyes or something else that had moved him, Clarissa didn’t have time to guess. In the swiftest of movements, he reached down and lifted her up as easily as if she were a small lad. He didn’t speak, but instead pulled her toward him, reaching around to twist the reins about his hand.

As quickly as they had stopped, he and his companion were once again moving.

The shock of being in Aidan de Sowlis’s arms again was barely tempered by her terror of being recognized by her father’s guards.

Dipping her head down, Clarissa closed her eyes and prayed. She pleaded with God to allow them to pass, promising to devote her life to him in exchange for safe passage and to never again disobey him. She apologized for cursing him when she’d been led to the altar to marry Lord Stanley.

“Please, please, please . . .”

She hadn’t even realized she’d said the words aloud until a low voice from behind her broke her fervent prayer.

“You can stop now, lass.”

Clarissa opened her eyes. The drawbridge had been lowered before they approached, as was the custom at this time of the day, and they rode across it now. The gatehouse was already behind them. They rode past a merchant who traveled in the opposite direction in a covered wagon. Otherwise, they saw no one ahead of them. Just open fields and grassy knolls.

She’d done it!

“And I’ll be wanting an explanation as well.”

Clarissa didn’t dare look back. Where to even begin?

“Greetings, Aidan,” she said instead.

“That, my lady, best be the beginning of a very detailed account of what the hell just happened.”

* * *

Keeping his voice as even as possible given the circumstances, Aidan attempted to put as much distance as possible between himself and the woman whose backside was currently wedged against him. He’d asked for an explanation, but really he wanted much, much more.

“’Tis a long story,” she began hesitantly.

Though he couldn’t see her face, Aidan could sense her unease. Despite the fact that Theffield Castle was her family home, Aidan had scarcely believed it was her standing there, waving her satchel. It had taken his mind a moment to reconcile what his eyes told him. Not only was Clarissa standing before him, but he knew at once the lady was desperate. The terrified look on her face had been enough to cut through his shock, and he hadn’t hesitated to scoop her up. But that shock had begun to ease, giving way to so many other emotions he could hardly keep track of them. He needed to understand why he’d just abducted her from Theffield.

“Aidan, what in God’s name—”

He shot Lawrence a look and then glanced back at the others. His friend understood the silent request and dropped back to ride with the other men. He could only imagine what Lawrence must be thinking.

“You were saying?”

She turned her head then, and God help him, Aidan’s breath caught. Though the hood covered the top portion of her head, dipping over her eyebrows, every other feature was on full display, as if he’d not already memorized them. A perfectly oval face, smooth cheeks and full lips. Though he couldn’t see it, Aidan imagined her brown hair, parted down the middle and pulled off her face as it had been each time he’d seen her. And though she quickly looked away, turning her head back toward the road in front of them, her eyes haunted him. Just like that first time, the liquid amber shone with a brightness he’d not expect in the Earl of Theffield’s daughter.

“I beg you give me escort to Sutworth Manor.”

Aidan thought she would continue, but his riding companion offered no further explanation. Ignoring his body’s response to her, one he had no right to have toward a married woman, he said, “I will need more than that, as I’m sure you understand, Lady Clarissa.”

“I will explain all, of course. But please say you’ll do it. I would never ask such a thing if I were not desperate.”

Of course she would not. Lady Clarissa was the only daughter of one of the most powerful English border lords. She could call upon any number of men for assistance, if she so chose, but was asking him for escort. A man whom she’d brought to his knees, twice.

“An odd request, I’m sure you will admit?”

Her shoulders stiffened. If that insulted her, then Lady Clarissa would not want to hear his opinions on how they’d parted two years earlier. He had no difficulty conjuring that moment, the one that had left him alone on the shores of Lake Litmere, waiting for hours, while his forfeited match was awarded to another participant. He’d assumed something had kept her away, but he’d returned to the tents to find her gone. No trace of the Earl of Theffield’s daughter.

She didn’t answer him now, and Aidan had nothing more to say. He could refuse to go any further without an explanation. He could demand, as he’d wanted to do for years, to know what had happened that day, and why she had torn his heart from his very chest.