by Tarah Scott
A strand of hair flew across her face. Had she really set off without her hat? She laughed. No matter, most likely, she would have lost it in the wind of Archangel’s gallop. A sliver of guilt niggled. While her father hadn’t expressly forbidden her from riding Archangel, he most likely wouldn’t have allowed her. Though, surely, such a denial would be unfair. The horse was fast and high-spirited, but nothing she couldn’t control.
Mackenzie turned her face toward the scant sun and drank in what warmth seeped through the fast-moving clouds. The afternoon was glorious—even if it wasn’t quite going according to plan.
After a time, and with her temper finally cooling, she pulled back on the reins. The beast tossed his head and snorted, but he slowed.
She’d been a bit of a ninny in expecting to ride Freya, but Liam didn’t have to allow his thoughts on the matter to be known. A gentleman wouldn’t have…but then, she suspected Lord Liam didn’t always behave as a gentleman should. To her chagrin, the idea sent a thrill through her.
The gentlemen she knew bored her. Lord Gilford, in particular. Her thoughts chilled. Her parents obviously wished her to announce her engagement at the upcoming party. If she were forced to accept Lord Gilford, the party would be the beginning of her prison sentence instead of the opening of the happiest chapter in her life.
She closed her eyes.
If only she could get Lord Liam to fall in love with her before then. If only she could announce him as her future husband.
Mackenzie opened her eyes and scowled. She certainly wasn’t off to an auspicious beginning.
***
Liam watched Lady Mackenzie break into a gallop astride the spirited Friesian. At least she’d had the good sense to forego the sidesaddle. Did Dunn really allow her to run so wild? The wee fool would break her neck.
The wind whipped the hem of her dress, allowing him a fine view of her slim calf. He clamped his jaw. While she deserved whatever lesson she might learn by riding off alone, some men went wild upon the sight of such an ankle.
“Bloody hell,” he swore as he removed the Arabian’s lead. He set off for the stables at a run, shouting, “Joseph, where are you?”
The young man met him at the stable doors, shovel in hand. “Aye, my lord?”
“Where is Lady Mackenzie off to?” he demanded.
“A morning ride, she said.”
“You let her go on that horse and alone?” Liam grated.
The lad’s eyes widened. “I told her Lord Dunn wouldnae like her riding Archangel.”
“Archangel?” Liam blurted. “Aptly named, I wager. She’ll likely break her neck. Where is my horse?”
“The last stall on the right.” Joseph pointed.
Liam strode toward the stall. “Bring my saddle.”
Five minutes later, Liam set out in the direction Mackenzie had gone. Seeing no sign of her in the open fields, he urged his mount toward the woodlands at a gallop. Riding that horse in the woods was simply asking for trouble, and the fact she’d reached the line of trees so quickly meant she’d galloped across the field at an obscene speed.
He approached the edge of the forest, slowed, and scanned for signs of the direction she’d taken. With Blackstone Abbey to the east and Redview to the west, she’d most likely headed north where she wouldn’t encounter another home for at least five miles.
Was she really accustomed to riding alone off her father’s land? At least before, she’d ridden with a friend.
Liam spotted horse prints, massive ones, and dismounted to examine them. They were fresh and, as suspected, headed north. He vaulted back into the saddle and urged his mount into the trees. When he found her, he was sorely tempted to bend her over his knee and paddle her pretty bottom. What would she think of that? His blood stirred at the thought.
The woods soon thinned to provide a view of open country with no sign of the lass. Perhaps he’d erred. He started to wheel his horse around when he caught a movement to the east. Three riders. If Mackenzie had ridden in that direction, she would have met them.
He kicked his horse into a gallop across the open country. The men vanished into the forest. Minutes later, Liam reached the trees and slowed as he entered the forest. The lowing of cattle filtered through the trees. Liam brought his horse to a halt. Who had cattle in these parts? Angus McPhee owned two hundred acres, but his land was another mile to the west. Had some of his cattle strayed too far?
He caught the murmur of voices. Liam dismounted, tied his horse securely to the nearest tree, then crept toward the voices. He spied a small clearing ahead with cattle roped in the center of the clearing. Four men were engaged in an angry exchange of words. Liam eased closer behind a wide oak. Here were the cattle rustlers, and foolish ones, to have not immediately driven their ill-gotten gains a safe distance away.
He scrutinized the men, but to his surprise, Mallatratt wasn’t among them. Perhaps he and Ewan had erred in judgement. What would Pettigrew think when he learned the rustlers were camped right under his nose? Liam imagined the look on Pettigrew’s face when he learned that Liam had discovered the true rustlers.
At least Lady Mackenzie hadn’t ridden this far. She was likely headed back to Newborne. Still, when he got his hands on her, he would give her a good spanking.
The cool barrel of a revolver suddenly dug into the back of his neck. He froze for several heartbeats. Then the barrel withdrew and leaves rustled. Liam slowly turned.
Mallatratt stood five feet away, the revolver pointed at him.
“What do you want,” Liam asked.
Mallatratt laughed. “By tonight, all will believe the Beasts of Blackstone Abbey are nothing but common thieves.”
“You plan on driving the cattle onto our land, under cover of darkness?”
“The constable will see the evidence with his own eyes.” The man surveyed Liam with a speculative eye. “Or perhaps, we’ll just bring the constable here and show him your dead body next to the cows you stole. Who could blame us for having to shoot you?”
“You won’t live long, then,” Liam replied in a mild tone. “My brother will hunt you down.”
Mallatratt shrugged. “I wager the newly wed Lord Fraser won’t want to risk his life now that he has a pretty young wife.”
Liam gave him a cool smile. “With Ewan, there will be no risk. He will find you. He will kill you. Then, he will return to his pretty wife with no one the wiser.” That wasn’t quite true. Ewan would hunt him down and kill him, then turn himself in to the authorities.
Uncertainty flickered in the man’s eyes. His muttonchop whiskers quivered. “I dinnae take kindly to being threatened.”
“ ‘Tis no threat.”
“Then you leave me no choice.” Mallatratt waved his gun toward the clearing. “We will bury your body where Lord Fraser won’t look.”
“Do no’ be a fool—” Liam began. The rustle of leaves behind him registered and he started to turn when pain sliced through his skull.
With a gasp, he stumbled forward then sank to one knee.
“Fall, ye bastard,” Mallatratt grunted.
Something struck him on the back of the head and his world went black.
Chapter Five
Mackenzie had but one shot in the pistol. One shot. She had to make it count. She forced back the tears that threatened.
Liam isn’t dead, she told herself for the dozenth time. It was hard to reconcile that knowledge with the fear roaring through her as she watched the men drag him into the clearing.
Steady, she ordered herself.
She crouched lower behind the clump of alders as the men dropped Liam at the edge of the clearing and the man with the muttonchops raised his weapon.
She had no more time.
Mackenzie cupped the hand gripping her father’s pistol and aimed at the muttonchop whiskered man who leveled his revolver at Liam’s head. She squeezed the trigger as her father had taught her to do.
The gun roared. The man jerked and fell to the ground. She’d hit
him! The other men scattered. The sheep bleated, and the cows mooed as they stampeded. The largest cow headed after one of the retreating men, trampling him underfoot as the remaining brigands leapt on their horses and raced away.
Thank God they are cowards.
Mackenzie rushed forward, letting her tears fall as she dropped to her knees at Liam’s side. The man she’d shot lay five feet away. Had she killed him? Despite her bravado, her hands shook as she laid her pistol on the ground and fumbled with Liam’s bonds. At last, she loosened the rope, then crawled around to face him. His head lolled to one side. How hard had they hit him? She pressed her ear to his chest. The powerful thump of his heartbeat released a fresh onslaught of tears.
He lived.
She straightened. It was far too dangerous to leave him alone and ride for help. The brigands might return. She had to wake him. To her right, the man she’d shot groaned. Mackenzie snapped her head in his direction. So, he wasn’t dead. She spotted his revolver still in his grasp. Her heart raced. She had to take the weapon before he awoke.
Still on her knees, she inched closer, stomach churning. He stirred. Mackenzie lunged for the revolver, seized the weapon, and pushed to her feet. The weapon felt heavy compared to the small pistol she’d used. Trembling, she stumbled back a pace, willing Liam to wake as the man groaned again.
Something rustled behind her. She spun to face the sound and glimpsed a rider among the trees. Had the brigands returned? The urge to cry rushed to the surface, again. Nae, that would show a weakness that would get her and Liam killed. She hurried back to Liam. If only he’d wake and—
Suddenly, the man rolled over and sat up. Blood stained his left shoulder. She really had shot him. Bile rose in her throat.
“What the bloody hell happened?” He frowned in confusion.
Mackenzie drew a shaking breath. “I shot you,” she said in a steadier voice than she thought herself capable.
“The devil you did,” the man objected, then looked at his shoulder. With furrowed brows, he looked at her again. “Why did ye shoot me?”
“Because you were going to shoot Lord Liam.”
“Why should you care?” He attempted to rise.
“Do not move,” Mackenzie ordered.
God help her, when was Liam going to wake up?
The man snorted. “Do you plan to finish the job?”
“I will if you get up,” she snapped.
He shifted onto his knees. “Why don’t you run along home, girl, and leave these matters to us men?” With a grunt, he lurched unsteadily to his feet.
Mackenzie retreated a step before she could stop herself.
“You’d best not let me catch you, lass,” he threatened as he stumbled forward.
Mackenzie raised her shaking hands and pointed the gun once more.
He unexpectedly pitched forward. Liam shoved to his knees as the man hit the ground. With a roar, Liam struck the brigand a vicious, bone-cracking blow. The man’s legs went limp.
Mackenzie burst into tears. Liam yanked her to the ground and seized her revolver. She cried out as he swung the gun toward the forest behind her and onto the rider who burst through the trees. She jerked in unison with the thunder of the weapon. The man dropped from his horse ten feet away and the animal raced past them.
Mackenzie stared, unable to tear her gaze from the man. “Is he dead?”
Liam caught her by the wrist. “What the bloody hell are you doing here?”
She snapped her gaze onto him. “I-I saw them. They were going to kill you.”
He grimaced and rubbed the back of his neck. “Why didn’t you ride for help? You nearly got yourself killed.”
Was he chiding her? Anger rose, but with one look at the haunted expression on his face, her fury faded. “I am a tolerable shot, sir.”
“Where did you get a gun?”
“I never ride alone without a weapon.”
He stared at her as if she’d sprouted horns. “Your father allows you to carry a weapon?”
“Indeed. It is he who taught me to shoot.” At straw targets. Without a doubt, he would be furious with her involvement in catching the cattle thieves.
Liam stood, took two steps to the man with the whiskers, and nudged him with a booted toe. At the sight of blood seeping from his nose, Mackenzie averted her eyes.
“Where is your horse?” Liam demanded.
Without answering, Mackenzie rose and stumbled in the direction she’d left the animal. She suddenly wanted to be safe in her chambers, away from the stench of blood. Battling nausea, she willed her roiling stomach into submission and hurried to where she’d left Archangel. The tree she’d tied him to came into sight, but Archangel was gone.
She rushed to the tree. “I tied him here. He-he cannot be gone!”
“Are you certain?” Liam asked.
She pointing to the hoofmarks in the moist ground. “He must have been startled by the noise.”
God help her. She’d lost Archangel.
His mouth thinned. “You will ride with me.”
“Father will be furious.” About so very many, many things.
“This way.” Liam gripped her shoulder.
Mackenzie tensed, startled from her worries.
“We’ll ride back together.”
“Together?”
He lifted a brow as he guided her forward. “You shoot a man, but are squeamish about sharing a saddle with one?”
Squeamish wasn’t what she felt, but she could hardly correct him. He guided her through the woods. Less than a minute later, his horse came into view.
Silently, he grasped the horse’s reins, swung himself into the saddle, then reached for her. She gasped as he dragged her across his lap. Her heart began to thunder. Were his thighs made of stone? He hugged her close and urged the horse forward. This was much different than when he’d scooped her up into his arms after she’d fallen from her horse. With every step of the horse, she bounced just a little on his lap. She found the movement strangely compelling. The sudden urge to cry caught her off guard and she choked back a sob. Liam’s arms tightened around her and she was surprised at the sense of security that engulfed her.
After some minutes, they left the trees and Liam drew rein.
“What is it?” Mackenzie asked.
“There,” he murmured.
She followed the line of his gaze to two distant riders.
The brigands had returned.
Chapter Six
“Hold tight,” Liam warned, and snapped the reins across the horse’s flanks.
Mackenzie threw her arms about his waist and pressed her temple against his chest as they galloped across open ground. He urged his horse faster, until they fairly flew over the field.
Liam glanced over his shoulder. The bloody brigands still pursued. He faced forward and hunkered down. At last, they crested the incline that bordered the road. He glanced back as they started down the hill and saw no riders. Still, Liam didn’t slow until they reached the forest bordering Newborne.
“Are they gone?” Mackenzie whispered after the horse slowed to a walk through the scant trees.
She held onto him so tightly, she stood in danger of cracking his ribs.
“They are gone,” he assured.
She exhaled, and he became aware of the soft crush of her breasts against him. An unexpected surge of protectiveness startled him with its intensity. Memory flashed of her pointing the revolver at Mallatratt. Rage swept through him anew.
“Do you think the men are dead?” she asked.
He hoped Mallatratt still lived so he could see the look in the man’s eye when the hangman slipped the noose around his throat, but said, “Aye, lass. I do.”
She shivered. Ewan looked down at her. She tilted her head up and before he realized his own intent, he tugged on the reins as he lowered his head and brushed his lips against hers. She gave a small cry and grasped his neck.
She arched and his cock hardened painfully. Liam imagined carrying her from t
he horse and laying her beneath one of the alders. His fingers ached to cup her breast. He started when she traced his bottom lip with her tongue. Liam thrust his tongue inside her mouth. Her tongue tangled with his and he wondered if it were possible to lift her onto his erection right there in the saddle. He cupped a breast.
“Liam,” she gasped.
He froze.
Several heartbeats passed before he pulled back and looked down at her. She stared, her parted lips swollen from his kiss, but already, her lashes began to lower once again. The wee hoyden was ripe for a man’s touch. Surely, she could feel how hard he was. Did she even know what that meant? What did it matter? He couldn’t sate his need with Lord Dunn’s daughter, no matter how much he desired to sheathe himself in her slick heat.
“We must go.”
He urged the horse into a fast walk. Liam ignored the hurt in her eyes and returned his attention to the forest.
Mackenzie remained quiet until they started down the front drive. “The stables,” she said.
He followed her gaze to the carriage standing before the front door.
“Why?” he asked.
“I would rather not see any guests.”
Any guests? Or this guest in particular?
“I must speak with your father about—”
“—my wrongdoing?” she cut in.
“I know who the cattle thieves are,” he said.
“But you will tell him what I did.”
“Lass, I dinnae think we can hide it from him—even if I thought it would be right to do so.” She didn’t reply, and he added, “Ye did not understand the danger. He will see that.”
“On the contrary, I understood the danger quite well,” she retorted. “How could I let them shoot you?”
He couldn’t prevent a small smile. “For that, I owe you my thanks.”
She looked up at him in surprise. “Truly?”
He hardened his gaze. “That does not mean I want you taking such risks again.”
They stopped at the front door.
“The stables—” she insisted.
The front door flew open and Lord Dunn rushed out, a tall, thin young man with a jutting chin, close upon his heels.
