by Rebecca King
When Rose reached a small stream, Barnaby knew it was time to draw a halt to this particular part of their adventure and nudged his horse forward until he could look into her face. She appeared to be utterly miserably, cold, wet, but she still refused to give in.
“Why don’t you just admit it, Rose? This is too difficult a situation for you to handle alone. Why, you are more adept at handling skilful manoeuvres in the ballroom. This countryside malarkey is likely to be the death of you.”
Rose listened to his words in outrage.
“That does it,” she snapped. Before Barnaby could say a single word, she covered the narrow distance to the horse and slapped it mightily on the backside.
Any satisfaction she would have had was lost when the horse suddenly reared up in protest. She watched in horror as, unprepared for the shifting weight, Barnaby rolled backward and landed on the ground with a heavy thud - straight into a cow pat.
The stench of manure and straw was putrid as it slammed into Barnaby’s nostrils, and made his eyes water. When he looked up, his teared eyes watched his horse vault the fence at the end of the field like a thoroughbred at the races and disappear from sight without once pausing for breath.
“What the Hell did you do that for?” Barnaby growled, outraged at the goo that was now seeping through his shirt.
“You annoy me,” Rose informed him primly. She didn’t feel so gauche and stupid now that he looked as bad as she did.
“What was that?” Barnaby thundered as he pushed to his feet only to slip on the mud and slam into the ground again. “I annoy you?”
“Yes,” Rose replied dourly. Rather than wait for him to lambast her further, she turned around and stormed off, leaving Barnaby to climb to his feet by himself. She refused to acknowledge the slight twinge of guilt that settled over her as she left him behind. As far as she was concerned, given what he had drawn her into, a little indignity himself wouldn’t go amiss.
“Wait one minute,” Barnaby demanded when he finally caught up with her. When she didn’t stop he yanked her by the elbow, forcing her to face him. Planting his fists on his hips, he towered over her until she deigned to look up at him. “Listen up, Princess, I have been with the Star Elite for nigh on eight years. I have been shot at, stabbed, robbed, threatened, challenged, and beaten but I have never, in all of my born days, met anybody as annoying, as stubborn, as argumentative and downright irritating as you.”
“Thank you,” Rose replied calmly, her face betraying no sign of the hurt that slammed into her as she listened to his words.
“I didn’t mean that as a bloody compliment,” Barnaby swore. “I would rather face Chadwick and nine of his men single handed without a gun than spend another minute in the wilds of – of – where the hell are we?” he thundered.
Rose shrugged. “Well, seeing as you seem to know so much about everything you should know where you are shouldn’t you?”
Ignoring his low growl, she continued to walk toward the village up ahead.
“I should leave you here all by yourself to be chased by the wildlife,” Barnaby thundered.
“Alright,” Rose replied unconcernedly.
“I would rather face Chadwick and ten of his men single handed than spend another minute here with you,” he continued as he followed her.
“Nine,” she replied.
“What?” He thundered.
“You said you would rather face Chadwick and nine of his men not ten,” she corrected.
He glared at her. “I should bloody well hand you over to Chadwick and let him have at you.”
“You don’t even know where you are so how could you possibly find Chadwick?” she replied logically.
His temper growing by the second, Barnaby stalked forward, spun around and slammed to a stop in front of her forcing her to stop and look at him. The urge to unnerve her was rife, but there was nothing around them for him to provoke her with. Instead, he leaned forward until they were practically nose-to-nose.
“I am a professional, so I will stick to what I do and will, in spite of you, get you to safety although God knows why. Chadwick is no more of a threat to you than you are to yourself.” He frowned when he realised he was babbling.
He hated the way she seemed to turn him on his head and ravel him up without even trying. His irritation grew further when she merely lifted her brows at him and sidled around him without saying a word before continuing on her journey. He wanted an argument damn it, so they could clear the air and hopefully ease the tension between them.
Before she could go far, Rose found a large, warm palm planted firmly in the centre of her abdomen, stopping her from moving anywhere. She turned her head and looked straight into Barnaby’s furious eyes.
“You will damned well do as you are told now. As soon as we get to Portsmouth, I will hand you over to my colleagues and be glad of it. Until then, you are valuable to the Star Elite, and you will be kept safe by the Star Elite, in spite of your best efforts to destroy yourself.” Barnaby knew it was hypocritical to make reference to her dire state when he looked and smelled just a bad but if he didn’t say something he was apt to do something foolish like kiss her.
“I am not a pawn on a chess board, here to be pushed and shoved about by you,” Rose replied. “I am a person, a woman in my own right.”
“But you live with your parents,” Barnaby reminded her.
“Yes, but that is a circumstance beyond my control,” Rose protested.
“But so is this,” Barnaby argued. “Chadwick isn’t going to do as he is told by you any more than that bull will.”
He pointed to the field behind them with a shaking finger, enraged at the memory of her flight across the field that could have resulted in her death if Rufus hadn’t been hungry.
“I know but I have no intention of being caught by him.” Rose waved to the surrounding fields. “Look at this. We are out here in the middle of nowhere. If we stay out of the way, Chadwick isn’t going to find us. There are miles upon miles of open countryside. The last time Chadwick saw us we were in a town. He is going to continue to search the roads. If I can get to that village I can ask somebody which way to go to get to Portsmouth. Once there, I can change clothes, assure my parents I am alright, and figure out a way to get home. There is no reason for Chadwick to even attempt to look for me. He is looking for you!”
“It isn’t that simple, Rose,” Barnaby sighed.
“It is the way it is going to be,” Rose replied firmly.
She didn’t know why but something deep within her wanted to retain some semblance of control over her wild situation. Barnaby and Chadwick had propelled her into a world of uncertainty she didn’t know how to deal with. She was scared; terrified even, alone, confused, and frustrated, and not only about Chadwick and what she had witnessed last night, but by Barnaby as well. He was an enigma; someone who always seemed to be so unflappable and in control that being with him made her feel more gauche and stupid than ever. It wasn’t a situation she could correct now after what had happened in the field. Her dignity and self-esteem had been stolen, and she suspected that she wouldn’t get them back while Barnaby was around.
“You cannot go to the village dressed like that,” Barnaby protested.
It was then that Rose realised she had temporarily forgotten about the hole in her breeches. She would never admit it aloud to anybody but he was right. She couldn’t go into the village as she was. She looked at the spot where the horse had disappeared. There was no way she was going back through the bull’s field again, not after what had happened last time. She had to carry on, and hope that she could find some other clothing from somewhere.
Barnaby swore and shook his head as he glared at the gathering storm clouds high above. It looked very much like the emotions coursing through him right now, tumultuous, unsteady, forewarning of a deluge yet to come that would leave everyone miserable, but he was powerless to stop it. There was nothing he could do about the helpless wave of desire he felt whenever he l
ooked at her, especially when she had her delightfully luscious backside on display. Even covered from head to foot in nature’s glory, she was a stunning sight to behold. In all of his years he had never met anyone like Rose. The women he usually came into contact with were either doxy’s at the tavern who would offer him whatever he wanted as long as he paid for it, or stiff and formally polite young women in ballrooms who wanted a ring on their finger and a fortune in their hands before they would even permit a dance. Barnaby had never been attracted to either. He just wasn’t the matrimonial kind yet turning away from Rose, ignoring her, and keeping his distance was impossible. In fact, after this morning he wasn’t sure he would even be able to hand her over to the capable care of one of his colleagues. He suspected he would fret, worry, and curiosity would damned near kill him until he had to see for himself that she really was alright.
“Damn it all to Hell,” he swore. When Rose glared at him he sighed. “I need to go and find that horse and retrieve your new breeches.”
Rose looked at equine beast munching hungrily on the grassy riverbank. Barnaby sighed when he saw the breeches still hanging from the saddle and went to fetch them.
“Here put these on. I am going to go back and ask the farmer if there is another form of transport we can use.” He paused long enough to wash his face in the stream before he quickly mounted the horse and rode away.
“Get changed. I won’t be long,” he called to her as he turned his horse around and started to make his way toward the gate. He didn’t need to speak with the farmer at all. He already had a change of clothing waiting for him in the barn. He just needed some time to himself, even if it was only a couple of minutes. Somehow he had to find a way to get his mind back onto what he was there to do, and off the tormenting thoughts of Rose’s delectable temptation.
“Take your time,” Rose muttered beneath her breath as she knelt beside the stream and began to wash her face. She didn’t bother to look back, but listened to the pounding of his horse’s steady hoof beats as she was left alone with her tumultuous thoughts.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Once he had gone, a sense of abandonment unlike no other she had ever experienced settled over her shoulders. Everything within her was screaming at her to go after him but she didn’t. Her pride wouldn’t allow her to reveal to him just how essential he had become to her very existence, especially when he had made it clear that he wanted to get rid of her the first chance he got.
“Insufferable oaf,” she muttered when she watched him stop and glance back. In that one glance he seemed to confirm her worst fears. He knew exactly how intrigued she was by him and was revelling in the hold that gave him over her.
Turn around and keep walking. It is the least you can do, a small voice instructed her.
Rose heaved a sigh and tried to do just that. Her intentions were good, but it was impossible to carry through. He was her only connection to the outside world, and the only barrier between her and Chadwick. Losing him was like being cut off from the rest of the world. Now that her anger had diminished to vague annoyance, being out in the middle of nowhere was not such a good idea after all. She glanced warily around the empty field and suddenly felt very frightened.
Barnaby looked back at her just to check she was alright without even realising he was doing so. His curse was fluid when he saw her standing oh so lost and forlorn, solemnly watching him abandon her.
“Damn it all to Hell,” he sighed. He had to go and fetch some clothing to change into because he stank. She needed some time to change. He wouldn’t be able to resist temptation for long if she went about barely covered. That said he still couldn’t leave her. The strength he needed to nudge his horse into a walk, turn around, and head in the opposite direction was beyond him. He couldn’t do it.
“I am nothing more than a God damned babysitter,” he grumbled as he turned his horse around.
In spite of her bravado, Rose heaved a sigh of relief when Barnaby began to make his way back down the hill. The tension riding her vanished in one hugely relieving whoosh of air but she dare not show him how pleased she was. Instead, she plastered a bland, vaguely disinterested expression on her face and stood perfectly still while she waited for him to reach her.
He didn’t even bother to wait for the horse to stop before he dismounted and stalked toward her. Hauling her into his arms he covered her mouth with his and plundered. A moment ago he had intended to abandon her. Now, she was wrapped fiercely in his arms as though he would never let her go. He couldn’t make sense of it, but didn’t know if he should even try. This felt right.
Something deep within Rose sighed. It was a sigh of longing and with that rush of warm air went all of her willpower and stoic determination to remain disaffected by him. She was affected by everything he did, especially now, and it was useless to try to pretend otherwise.
Unsure which one of them moaned, Barnaby held her even tighter. This was no mere kiss; this was a mating; a ritual; a hint of what was yet to come. It was unnerving; deeply so because it was as unwanted as it was wanted. He shouldn’t feel anything for this woman but he did. The contrast in the differing facets of her personality captivated him and made him want uncover all of her secrets no matter what the cost to his heart. There was something in her inherent gentleness that defined the resilience he repeatedly witnessed and it intrigued him to know which facet of her was truly her.
“Rose,” he whispered when he finally lifted his head and began to trail a string of hot kisses down the side of her neck.
He looked down into her slumberous eyes and immediately felt himself drawn deeper. Eyes like Rose’s were pools of luscious temptation a man could get lost in. Not just any man; him. He didn’t struggle to find a way to break free of the sensual hold of that steady regard. Instead, he leaned toward it, testing the depths to see how far he could go. When it didn’t worry him as much as he thought it would, he dipped his head once again and kissed her in earnest. It was only when he found himself starting to lower her to the cold hard ground that he lifted his head and slowly stood up taking her with him. He kept his arms around her until she had regained her balance and then reluctantly yet determinedly released her.
As soon as Barnaby put some distance between them cold air swamped Rose and took with it the warm glow of contentment that had suffused her.
“Just stay here, Rose. Change into those clean breeches while I have gone. They will be a bit too big I am afraid but it can’t be helped. I need fetch the clothing the farmer gave me to wear. If we go anywhere as we are we will draw attention to ourselves purely because of the smell,” he said gently as he went to fetch his horse.
The reluctance in his voice at the mention of leaving her was thrilling. She worked hard to prevent the soft smile of satisfaction from curving her lips but it was there and came straight from her heart. Awed at the thought that this man might feel something for her in return, Rose meekly nodded and watched him ride away, this time a little more contentedly. After that kiss she was happy to do whatever he wanted. Her smile still curved her lips when she climbed over the gate at the end of the field and quickly changed her torn breeches. When she was suitably covered, she sat down to wait for him to return to her.
“Barnaby,” she whispered as she touched her tingling lips with gentle fingers.
The gentle sounds of nature all around her were the only noises that interrupted the silence. It gave her the opportunity she needed to gather her thoughts and emotions and contemplate what had happened. Suddenly, the distant sound of horses’ hooves began to infiltrate the bird-song and discordant rustling of leaves in the trees. She frowned and immediately looked at the spot where she had last seen Barnaby but there was no sign of him. Her heart began to increase in tempo as she stood and scoured the surrounding fields.
“Barnaby, where are you?” she whispered when she caught sight of several riders travelling along what she suspected was a lane three fields away.
Thankfully, at that moment Barnaby reappeared
with a second horse in tow. Rose waved at him and pointed to the riders who were, thankfully, heading toward the small village on the horizon and riding away from them.
“Who are they?” she whispered when Barnaby handed her an armful of clothing and dismounted.
Barnaby studied the riders and suspected they were Chadwick’s men. He tried not to show any trace of emotion and shook his head unconcernedly at her.
“I don’t know but we are going to avoid them.” Barnaby looked her up and down, his gaze lingering only fractionally on the deep shadow of her surprisingly buxom cleavage barely hidden by the straining laces of her shirt. “Please get covered up.”
His voice was part-plea, part-scolding. Helpfully, he held out a large cloak for her to wear. Thankfully, Rose quickly put it on. He knew she had missed the true reason behind his request, but Barnaby didn’t explain. He was just grateful she was now engulfed in the billowing material of the heavy cloak the farmer had given him and her delectable curves were hidden from view.
Once he had tugged his cloak over his clean, white shirt, Barnaby turned his attention back to the men on the road. There were five of them; one of which was undoubtedly Chadwick. They were searching the area as they travelled but had yet to look behind them. Barnaby knew it was only a matter of time before they did, and would invariably see both him and Rose.
“We need to get out of sight,” Barnaby sighed, nudging her behind a hedge. “Here, put this on.”
Before Rose could see what he had in his hand, Barnaby placed a flat cap on her head. “Tuck your hair up into it so nobody can see how long it is,” he ordered. When he was satisfied that she was as disguised, Barnaby nodded to their horses. “Let’s go.”
Later that morning, Barnaby and Rose finally reached Portsmouth. Rose didn’t know whether she should weep or shout for joy. Exhaustion pulled at her, urging her to rest her head for a while but she knew she couldn’t settle. They still weren’t safe. Strangely, she took no comfort in watching the people travelling up and down the busy main street. Having people around was more of a threat now she didn’t know who she should trust. The longer she and Barnaby stood hidden in the trees watching people go about their business, the more Rose found herself studying each person in turn, desperately searching for Chadwick.
