Chapter 10

They had traveled all night, stopping only to give their legs a chance to remember how to work or to find food and water for the horses. Mariah knew they were making good progress, and if they continued in this fashion, they would definitely reach London before dark.

She was relieved when Jeb pointed out landmarks that were familiar to him. That meant they were nearing their destination.

“There’s an inn up ahead. We can’t go any longer without food. We’ll travel past the inn, then I’ll double back and get something for us to eat.”

Mariah nodded. She was so hungry she was surprised Jeb couldn’t hear her stomach complaining. And if she was hungry, she couldn’t imagine how hungry he was.

They rode on until Mariah saw the inn in the distance. She breathed in the evidence of bread baking. “It smells wonderful,” she said when Jeb led her to a secluded spot deep in a grove of trees.

“Barney Pluckett and his wife own the Golden Goose. Mrs. Pluckett is one of the best cooks outside London.”

“I’m so hungry she wouldn’t even have to be good for me to sing her praises.”

“I’d best hurry, then,” he said smiling at her. He made sure she was settled before mounting his horse. “Do you have a weapon?”

She nodded, even though a stabbing of worry clenched in the pit of her stomach. “Do you think Father’s men might be close?”

He shook his head. “But it doesn’t hurt to be cautious.”

Mariah reached inside the cloak she wore and pulled out a pistol.

“Use it if you have to.”

She nodded, then watched as he rode away. She led Milly to the brook, then washed as thoroughly as she could. How eager she was to reach Jeb’s father’s house. Perhaps she could ask for a bath. It would be like heaven.

When she finished, she returned to the spot where Jeb had left her to wait and was surprised when he arrived just moments later.

He swung off his horse and came toward her with a grin that made her heart burst. It skipped a beat, then shifted inside her breast. He was happy to see her, and she feasted her eyes on the gloriously handsome man that strode toward her. As striking as he was in full evening dress, the picture he made in rough, road-weary traveling clothes, holding forth his trophy of bread fresh from the oven, was beyond description.

“Mrs. Pluckett sends her best,” he beamed, handing her a small sack.

Mariah held the sack to her nose and breathed deeply before opening it and selecting one of the pastries nestled alongside the warm loaf. She took a bite, then moaned in pleasure. She took another bite, then handed the sack to Jeb. He exchanged it for a flask, and she drank. Then coughed.

“Ale for breakfast?”

“Well, it flows from an underground spring. Just like water. Folks around here drink it morning noon and night.”

“An underground spring, you say.”

“Mm-hm.” He grinned at her even as he tore off a chunk of bread.

“Guarded by pixies, no doubt?”

“How did you know that!”

“Well,” she sighed, “I would expect no less of the revered homeland of a man such as yourself.”

She smiled, and watched Jeb’s face break into a glorious grin. To be teased by a man with a smile like that was a sheer bit of heaven. She felt her pulse slowing, her mind finding its balance after the frenzied pace of the past few days.

But just as her eyes began to close and her head began to nod toward her chest, Jeb broke the moment by offering her the flask for a final drink.

“Oh!” She jerked fully awake. “No, thank you. I don’t dare take any more ale, or you’ll be pulling me from my horse, not because I’m falling asleep, but because I’m foxed.”

“I can think of worse things than having to ride with you in my arms.”

Mariah let her gaze rest on his smile. “So can I,” she whispered, then looked away from him before he saw how embarrassed she was. It was the ale talking. She knew it was. Hopefully, so did he.

“You mentioned you have an aunt in London. That’s where you’ll stay?”

“Yes, she’s my mother’s sister. Lady Margaret Harmsworth, Dowager Countess of Harmsworth.”

“Lady Harmsworth is your aunt?”

“Yes. Are you acquainted with her?”

“She’s the kind of woman who'll be glad to share her home with you.”

“I don’t need her to take me in forever,” Mariah said. “Just long enough to make sure the estate Mother’s will left me is livable.”

“You have an estate?”

“Yes. Willow Brooks. Are you familiar with it?”

“My whole family knows Willow Brooks. Just below Lavenham?”

“Yes, that’s it. It’s not an overly large estate but perfectly suited for my needs. My mother’s parents always hoped she would return to England, and they wanted to make sure she had a place to live if she ever decided to come back.”

“Have you ever seen it?”

“Once. I visited England with my mother. I was no more than ten or eleven and don’t remember much of it, other than that I fell in love with it the moment I saw it.”

“Then you will love it still..”

Jeb’s assurances warmed her heart. Before she could tell him how much she appreciated what he’d said, he rose and held out his hand.

“You know you can’t go to either place yet, don’t you? Not until—”

“I know,” she said quietly. “Those are the two places they’ll expect me to run to. So I mustn’t put them in danger. Not until—”

The rest of the thought lay between them, each hoping the outcome would not be as dire as they suspected it might be.

Jeb cleared his throat.

“It’s time we got back on the road. We won’t stop again until we reach London.”

Mariah felt herself lifted atop Milly, distracted by the thought that they were almost at the end of this perilous journey. She couldn’t believe she had successfully escaped her father or that she may just have helped prevent bloodshed between Scotland and England.

She caught Jeb’s shoulder as he turned toward Goliath.

“You can’t possibly know what you’ve done for me, Jeb. I—”

He stopped her with one finger against her lips. “And I’d do it again,” he whispered. She could tell he wanted to say more, but his face was so near, his eyes so full of tenderness, and there was nothing she could do but draw his face to her.

He smiled as his lips brushed hers. Each kiss was light, a scarce meeting, but the messages passed from heart to heart could not be mistaken. They were about to arrive in London, poised on the brink of a love that both knew now was undeniable.

. . .

Jeb wasn’t sure if it was just because they were so close to London and they’d evaded MacFarlane’s men or if it was because of the time he’d spent in Her Majesty’s service, but every nerve in his body warned him that something wasn’t right.

He reached for the pistol in his pocket, then slowed his horse until he was even with Mariah.

“Keep your weapon handy.”

She reached inside the cloak she wore and pulled out her pistol. “Do you see something?”

He shook his head. “It’s just a feeling. But it doesn’t hurt to be cautious.”

They rode a little farther, and the hairs at the nape of his neck stood in warning. “If I yell,” he said, “take off as fast as you can, and don’t look back. Follow this road. It will lead you into London. Ask for directions to Upper Berkeley Street, and tell my father what’s happened.”

“Upper Berkeley Street,” she repeated. “What about you?”

“I’ll be right behind you.”

Jeb pulled slightly ahead of Mariah and continued down the road. Perhaps he was being overly cautious. Perhaps there was nothing to worry about. The war was history now, and he wasn’t as sharp as he used to be. Nor could he trust his instincts as he once had.

He studied the area. That’s when he saw it. A small movement to the side. Two men on horseback were taking a position behind them. No doubt there were more ahead of them. They would want to surround him to cut off any opportunity for escape. Mariah’s only chance was for Jeb to stop the men ahead so she could break through and make it to London. And if he were lucky, so could he.

He lifted his gun and yelled, “Go!”

Jeb took off as fast as he could. Mariah was beside him, and together they raced over the hard-packed road.

“Don’t look back,” Jeb yelled when two men rode up from the shallow roadside ditch. He didn’t have time to watch to make sure she followed his orders, but turned his mount around to face MacFarlane’s men.

Jeb fired, and one man fell to the ground. The second man fired at Jeb but missed. That gave Jeb the time he needed to aim and hit the second man.

The man fell to the ground, and Jeb turned his horse to follow Mariah. If he could catch up with her, their chances of reaching safety would increase greatly. But he’d barely gone any distance before he heard the thunder of hooves behind him.

Jeb looked and saw two more of MacFarlane’s men closing in on him. He fired and heard one of the men yelp in pain, but when he turned, the man was still astride his horse. Jeb fired again.

MacFarlane’s men both fired at the same time.

Jeb felt a stinging pain in his shoulder, but it wasn’t so severe that he couldn’t stay on his horse. Jeb turned, then fired again. His bullet struck its target this time, and one of the men fell to the ground.

There was only one man left, and for the first time, Jeb was hopeful he would survive this skirmish. For the first time, he thought he stood a chance of getting to London.

He turn and aimed. He had to make this shot count. The pain in his shoulder was becoming more intense, and he knew he’d lost enough blood that he could lose consciousness. He tried to lift his arm, but it felt like a lead weight. He knew if he didn’t fire soon, MacFarlane’s man would have time to get off one more shot. And that would be the only shot he needed.

Jeb wheeled Goliath around to face the attacker, making the horse rear. Before he could settle his horse, a shot echoed from behind him, and MacFarlane’s man fell to the ground.

Jeb turned. Mariah stood at the side of the road, her hair streaming in the wind and a pistol in her hand.

“Jeb,” she called out, then ran toward him.

“Get to . . . safety,” he said, fighting to keep his balance in the saddle. He righted himself but knew he was losing the strength he needed to keep from falling.

He felt her hands push him upright. “Stay awake, Jeb. I won’t be able to help you if you fall to the ground.”

Jeb struggled to remain conscious but knew it wouldn’t be long before he lost the battle.

“Hang on, Jeb. I’ll get you to London.” She let out a piercing whistle. “Milly! Follow!”

Milly trotted out of the ditch and came alongside them. Mariah used Milly’s stirrup to launch herself up and astride Goliath. Jeb gave an alarming jolt but grabbed hold and stayed astride right behind her. When she was in place, she reached for his hands. “This is going to hurt,” she said, then brought his arms over her shoulders. “Now lock your hands together, and don’t let go,” she ordered.

And he heard no more.