At first, Clarissa couldn’t breathe. When Eda had told her Aidan de Sowlis was in her father’s solar in Theffield, she had not believed it. To say his presence was unexpected would be too mild. It was as shocking as it would be to wake up to a loving smile from her father. Besides which, Eda had never actually met Aidan. Though she’d been at Sutworth Manor when Aidan visited with his brother and father, she’d taken ill that morn and had only heard of the incident from Clarissa herself.

Poor Eda used to lament how many times she’d been forced to listen to the tale of the two handsome Scotsmen. In particular, Clarissa had talked about the younger son, the one who’d looked at her with a mixture of awe and pity. The one she’d continued staring at from afar after she was reprimanded for being in the hall despite having been ordered to stay away from visitors.

And, of course, Eda had not been present at the tournament. It was a wonder Clarissa had been allowed to attend. No amount of begging ever convinced her father to relent, but that time, a stroke of pure luck—or perhaps fickle fate—had sent her uncle and cousin to Theffield just before the tournament. Her cousin, the eldest son of her father’s only brother, did the begging for her. When her father agreed to allow her to accompany them, Clarissa had never been so happy in her life.

Nay, that was not true.

Her happiest day came later in the week when she shared her first kiss with the man who had haunted her dreams for years after his visit to Theffield.

Careful not to be seen by her father, Clarissa peered inside her father’s solar. Despite the danger of being caught, she hadn’t been able to stay away. She bit back a gasp. Though she could only see the back of his head, it was enough to know it was indeed Aidan de Sowlis. She’d recognize him anywhere.

But why was he here? And who was he with? She couldn’t discern whether it was Aidan’s brother, but she was not daft enough to remain in the doorway and risk getting caught by her father. Instead, she fled to her bedchamber, looking for Eda along the way, but the maid was nowhere to be found.

Perhaps it was better this way. If Eda knew what she was planning, the maid would be forced to lie when asked about her whereabouts. This way, Eda would be telling the truth. Though she knew the abbey was Clarissa’s intended destination, by way of Sutworth, she didn’t know anything about her escape plan.

Without time to do more than gather a sack with a few garments stuffed inside, Clarissa walked as quickly as possible without garnering undue attention, finally exiting a side door that led to the inner bailey. There were very few loyal to her father, but those who were would not hesitate to tell him his daughter had been sneaking around the castle clutching a satchel to her chest.

With her heart hammering at the thought of what she was about to do, Clarissa avoided notice as best she could and waited. Of all her foolhardy plans, this was by far the riskiest. If her father caught her attempting to leave with the Scotsman . . .

But what worried her most was Aidan’s reaction.

Clarissa managed to make her way to the outer bailey without raising suspicion. However, assuming Aidan did agree to escort her to Sutworth Manor, she could not simply ride out through the main gatehouse with him and his companion. At least not without risking that her father’s men would recognize her and drag her back inside. Thankfully, this April day was cool enough to warrant a hooded cape, which she’d managed to secure before leaving. Slipping it on and tugging the hood as low on her face as possible, Clarissa waited in a small alcove along the inner curtain wall.

Only an empty, grassy courtyard, a gatehouse full of watchmen, and the man she’d once spurned stood between her and freedom.

Or temporary freedom, at least.

Even if she did manage to reach Sutworth, so much could still go wrong. Just one member of the household with enough loyalty to her father would alert him to her presence at Sutworth. And there was still the matter of getting to Dunburg Abbey. One did not simply arrive at an abbey and ask to be offered admission. Though she carried with her enough jewelry to offer as a dowry, she would still need to find a sponsor. Ideally, the sponsor would be her father, but he had no idea she’d been cast aside by her husband, let alone that she planned to join the order of Benedictine nuns at Dunburg. Nor would he ever allow it. Father Patrick, Sutworth’s kindly priest, would be the man to decide her fate.

When Clarissa thought of all that could go wrong, she began to worry. But she’d needed a miracle for her plan to work, and it would seem she had one. Best that she take advantage of it.

Unfortunately, as the Scotsman and his companion rode through the inner gatehouse, fierce and foreboding, they looked less like angels than they did the devil’s henchman. As they rode toward her position, followed at a short distance by their men, Clarissa nearly changed her mind. This was madness. After everything that had passed between them, it was unthinkable to ask a favor of him. One that might put him in a great deal of danger.

But she had no choice.

As the hoofbeats thundered closer, Clarissa clutched her satchel, using the material gathered between her fingers to steady her shaking hands. Staring in shock—his hair was much shorter but still curled in waves atop his head—Clarissa moved as if her feet were stuck in the mud beneath them. Slowly making her way to a position that would force them to stop, she released her grip on the satchel with one hand and raised it into the air.

Just as she’d planned, the men slowed, and then stopped, their mounts in front of her. She had precious little time, the risk of being recognized by her father’s people very real. Watching as his eyes widened in recognition, Clarissa was brought back to the second time they’d seen each other. He’d caught her staring at him on the jousting field. Embarrassed, she had looked away. Only when he’d later rode up to the stands to ask for her favor had Clarissa allowed herself another glance.

That time, his square jaw and kindly smile had taken her breath away. But he was certainly not smiling now. Quite the opposite, in fact. Aidan de Sowlis looked at her as if she were the last person in the world he wanted to be looking at. Lifting her chin and attempting to keep her voice from quavering, she spoke quickly.

“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.

Instead, he fell silent.He would not deny a woman who pleaded for help. Even this woman.

Especially this woman.

When a pair of Galloways appeared atop the ridge in front of them, Aidan raised a fist in the air. His men quickly caught up with him, and Lawrence appeared at his side.

“Do you recognize them?” Lawrence asked.

Their distinct ponies marked them as reivers, but as the men approached, Aidan shook his head. He had not come across these two before. “Nay, but there appears to be only the pair of them.”

It was unusual for border reivers to travel in small numbers, so they waited, and watched, to see if others would appear. When they did not, and the reivers rode by them, a nod and wave their only greeting, Aidan took his hand from the dirk at his side.

“Two,” Lawrence said. “Most unusual.”

Though he agreed, he did not wish to further alarm Clarissa. “They don’t appear to pose a threat,” he said.

Lawrence looked over at them, the question in his eyes one Aidan couldn’t yet fully answer. He knew of Clarissa, of course, but never met her before. His friend had not attended the Tournament of the North that year. The chief of Clan Karyn, Lawrence’s father, had taken ill. Though he had recovered, Lawrence had missed the one opportunity each year for Scottish warriors and English knights to come together and fight, as peaceably as possible. Deaths still occurred each year, as they did at all tournaments, but it was a tradition that brought people together across the border—one that would be jeopardized by a breakdown of the peace.

Unless her father deemed it in his interest to help them. An unlikely event if he discovered Aidan had absconded with his daughter.

Pushing the disturbing thought aside, he indicated for the men to keep moving. They hadn’t traveled very far when he heard the faintest of whispers.

“I’m sorry.”

She’d not turned around, but Aidan heard the words distinctly.

He didn’t want to know, he told himself. It mattered naught. She was married. And he would never be. So when he blurted out, “Why?” it was a surprise even to himself.

She wiggled forward, Aidan swallowing hard at the movement, and reached up to remove her hood. The moment she did, a mass of straight brown hair was revealed. He didn’t mean to inhale, but the scent of roses assaulted him.

She turned to him then, and if a band of fifty reivers had come at them in that moment, Aidan wouldn’t have had the composure to reach for his sword. He did not know what he’d done to deserve this. But God was punishing him, to be sure.

“I wanted to come that day,” she began. “To meet you . . .”

He thought, for the briefest of moments, he wanted to hear this. But he simply couldn’t bear it.

“Lawrence,” he called. His friend appeared by their side moments later. Aidan slowed to a stop, lifted Clarissa from her position nearly on his lap, and lowered her to the ground. As soon as she realized what he was about, she eagerly assisted him. It seemed he wasn’t the only one anxious to put distance between them.

Then perhaps you should have asked another for assistance.

Just as he was about to tell Lawrence to take her, Aidan changed his mind.

“Tell the men to get off the road.”

There was nothing to recommend this as a good place to stop. No water for the horses or even cover for the men. But he could not simply keep riding toward the border without knowing what the hell was happening with Clarissa.

Handing his reins to his confused companion, Aidan walked a short distance away, turning back to Clarissa, who lifted her gown and followed.

“I will know. Now.”

She swallowed. “I made a grave mistake,” she said, her voice shaky. “Instead of keeping it secret, as we agreed—”

“Not that.” His voice had a hard edge he scarcely recognized. Aidan had always been able to command attention without raising his volume. He was respected despite it, or maybe because of it. But she had the ability, it seemed, to bring out a part of him that he wasn’t sure he liked.

“This.” He gestured around them.

“As I said, I will explain—”

“You will explain now.”

Did she really expect him to bring her to Sutworth Manor without so much as a hint of explanation?

“But we must not tarry. If my father—”

“If your father learns the very man who just begged him to oust Lord Caxton as warden has made off with his only daughter, there will be bigger troubles than this region has seen in years.”

Her eyes went as wide as two round trenchers. “He would never . . .”

“He would never what?”

Aidan didn’t like where her thoughts seemed to be headed.

“Never mind.”

Clasping her hands in front of her, Clarissa continued. “Lord Stanley appealed for an annulment. He cast me out, and my father does not yet know. I came home only because I had nowhere else to go. In order for my plan to work, I must get to Sutworth Manor. I didn’t know how I’d manage such a feat, but then you arrived—”

He heard the words, but could not believe them.

“Lord Stanley what?”

“He appealed for annulment. I know not how long these things take, but apparently it has already been—”

“I don’t believe it.”

Blood pounded in his ears, the words coming from her mouth . . .

Nay, it could not be.

“Why would he—”

“Aidan, please. I know you must be angry with me—”

“I stopped being angry with you a long time ago.”

It was not true, of course. But he felt as if he should say it anyway.

“If my father finds me here . . .”

Panic. Fear. Of course she was afraid. Better men than him shook at the very mention of the Earl of Theffield. That bastard was Lady Clarissa’s father, though Aidan had never quite reconciled himself to that fact.

Annulled.

Pushing aside the implications of that word, Aidan reached out and grabbed Clarissa’s hand, wishing immediately he’d not done so. When they touched, a warmth spread through him, the same jolt he’d felt the last time her skin was pressed to his own.

Ignoring the dangerous thought, he guided her back to the men. But just as he was about to lift her onto his mount, Aidan remembered the torture he’d been through since Theffield Castle. He gently pushed her toward Lawrence, who didn’t need to be told what to do. As he helped her mount, pulling his hands from her waist as if they were on fire, he cursed himself for the musings that danced through his mind.

It didn’t matter if she would no longer be a married woman. She’d abandoned him without so much as a goodbye. She was the daughter of the only man remaining who had the power to bring peace to the border. One who would surely be enraged to find his daughter missing.

An annulment did not matter.

Except that it did.