Chapter 9

Mariah had been kissed before. Not often, and never like Jeb had just kissed her. Nor had any kiss affected her the way his kiss had.

She was exhausted from the ride, from telling her difficult story, and from trying to remember to keep from leaning into the man whose arms kept inviting her to snuggle closer.

She closed her eyes as she splashed water from the stream over her face, and her mind relived the kiss. Bright lights exploded behind her eyelids, and blood thundered in her head.

She took as much time as she dared, then returned to where he waited for her. While she ate, he led the horses to the stream.

“Are you ready to leave?” he asked when he returned. “I’d like to give you more time to rest, but that’s not possible.”

Mariah looked up, and her gaze caught his. She didn’t want to feel like this. She didn’t want to fight this attraction to him. But she couldn’t afford to be attracted to anyone. Not when the possibility was so great that her father would follow her no matter where she went and kill her for stealing the jewels. As well as anyone with her.

Mariah cleared her throat. “Yes, I’m ready to leave.”

She walked to where he held Milly and prepared herself for his touch. She thought the effect might not be as strong this time when he lifted her, and it wasn’t. It was stronger.

When she was seated, she gathered her reins and followed Jeb when he mounted and urged his horse to a steady walk.

For the next few hours, she tried to convince herself that she’d imagined the effect his touch had on her. But it was impossible for her to focus on anything other than his broad shoulders and the natural fit of his body as he rode Goliath. As if he’d grown up in a saddle.

If she hadn’t been so absorbed in watching his every move, she might have missed the lift of his hand as he motioned for her to follow him off the road and into a thick copse of trees.

Mariah followed him deep into the underbrush. That’s when she heard it. The sound of horses racing on the road toward them.

The horses could belong to travelers making their way to any of a hundred different destinations. Or young squires out racing on the road. Or highwaymen bent on some misadventure.

Or they could be her father’s men.

Mariah closed her eyes to block out the terror that pressed against her chest.

The pounding of the horses on the road grew louder as the riders neared. She leaned forward and ran her hand over Milly’s neck to calm her. The last thing they needed was for their horses to give away their position.

The thundering in Mariah’s ears grew louder as the pounding of the horses slowed. It was as if the riders knew where they were hiding.

Jeb slowly leaned down and pulled a knife from his boot. Then he looked over his shoulder until his gaze met hers. He held out his hand to silently tell her not to move.

As if in slow motion, he swung from his horse and lowered himself to the ground. He looped the reins over a tree branch and stepped nearer to where the men had come to a halt.

“She can’t have gotten much farther than this,” one of the men said. “Unless she left the castle in the middle of the night.”

Mariah’s heart clenched in her breast. The men weren’t simply travelers making their way south. They were her father’s men. Which meant he knew she’d escaped. And that she had the jewels.

“What should we do?” the second man asked.

“Let’s get off the main road and make our way through the brush. You take that side, and I’ll take this one. Look for signs of a camp.”

Mariah kept her eyes focused on Jeb. He moved silently through the brush, then turned to her and held up one finger. She knew he was telling her not to move or make any noise. She nodded that she understood what he was saying, then watched him disappear into the trees.

Mariah closed her eyes and listened. She barely breathed, straining to hear any sound, any sign that her father’s men had found them. And then she heard it.

There was a muffled grunt, then the rustling of dry brush.

“Bart. Did you find anything?”

Mariah waited, but the man called Bart didn’t answer.

“Bart!”

Silence.

Heavy footsteps trod across the road, and then she heard the crunch of dry leaves and branches.

“Bart, where the hell are you?”

The crunch of more leaves, then “Oomph.”

Mariah held her breath while she listened. But all she heard was silence. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, Jeb appeared. He rushed to his horse, took the reins from the branch, and mounted in one fluid motion.

“Stay close,” he said, and took off through the trees.

Mariah kept her eyes on his back as he pushed his horse as fast as was possible through the thick underbrush. She tried not to concentrate on what he’d done to her father’s men. But she couldn’t block what had happened from her mind.

He might have killed them.

To protect her.

. . .

Jeb rode at top speed with Mariah at his side. Her instincts were as keen as his as they navigated the rough terrain. But at last he felt it safe to return to the road.

He hadn’t thought MacFarlane’s men would catch up with them already. In fact, he’d thought the real danger would come later, in London.

A cold sweat consumed him. He wasn’t sure how far they’d gone before he looked at her, but with one glance he realized how hard he’d pushed her. And she hadn’t complained.

He slowed, then turned into a rock-strewn gully off the side of the road. When he was sure they couldn’t be seen, he stopped. He dismounted, then walked to where she’d stopped behind him and held up his hands to assist her to the ground.

She looked at him with a relieved expression on her face, then placed her hands on his shoulders.

He took her by the waist to lift her from her horse, but the moment his hands touched her, something strange rushed through him—a sensation he’d never experienced before. It was as if a connection ran hot and forceful through his body. An awareness that bound her to him and charged him with her safety. A mandate that commanded him to protect her with his life.

Their gazes locked and held. Then he slowly lowered her to the ground. “I apologize for forcing you to travel at such a speed,” he said when he was able to drop his hands from her waist and take a step from her.

“You did what would keep us safe,” she answered. “I can hardly complain.”

“We can’t rest long. Just long enough for me to water the horses.”

She nodded her understanding and sat on the ground.

“We’ll leave when I return. As soon as your father finds his men, he’ll know he’s on the right track. We need to get as far away from them as possible before that happens.”

Jeb led the horses to the stream. What he really wanted to do was gather Mariah in his arms and hold her. What he really wanted to do was press her to him and assure her that he would keep her safe. But he’d learned from experience that one couldn’t always keep such promises.

When he returned, he helped Mariah onto her mount. He felt awkward. Rough. Like a boy who didn’t know where to put his hands. She looked at him, surprised at the change she sensed. But then her face softened.

“Did you have to kill many of the enemy during the war?” she asked before they continued on their way.

“Too many.”

“I won’t ask if it bothered you, because I know it did. It has to. You are too kindhearted for it not to.”

“How can you say I’m kindhearted? I just mortally wounded two of your father’s men.”

“Because you had to. They would have killed us if you hadn’t.”

He was struck by how Mariah looked at things. Perhaps that was because she had felt unsafe for so long.

“Are you ready to go on?”

“Yes. It will be dark soon. And you’ve said it’s important that we get as close to London as we can.”

Jeb looked over his shoulder and smiled. “If we can keep up this pace, it’s possible that we’ll reach London by late afternoon tomorrow.”

“Where will you take me?”

“I think to my father first. He’ll be able to help us.” Jeb looked over his shoulder and found her smiling at him. An open, genuine, trusting, courageous smile. His high opinion of her soared. Her courage and spirit were staggering.

She was a truly exceptional young lady.