Amanda Scott(6)

“That’s Hodge Law,” he said. “He only looks like a bear, lassie. He’ll be gey gentle with you. I’m going to turn now and hand you across to him.”

“I’ve me cloak ready for her, m’lord,” Hodge said, reaching to take the child as Simon leaned out as far as he could and handed her across to him.

Turning back to the woman, Simon saw that she had begun to ease her way to the end of the log. “Be careful, mistress,” he warned. “That current is deadly.”

“You need not tell me that, sir,” she said in a harsh, croaking voice. “I’ve been its captive now for what seems like hours.”

“Not as long as that,” he replied. “I saw you fall, and I’d wager you were in no more than five minutes, mayhap ten by now.”

She gave him a sour look, and the sense of familiarity increased. He had been wrong about her being from a tenant family, though. Her manner of speech revealed considerably higher birth. In any event, he wanted her out of the water.

Hodge was trying to shift wee Kit under his cloak without letting go of the log, and Simon realized with growing concern that they had no idea how long the child had been in the water before they had heard her scream.

The log tipped precariously, making the woman gasp. Simon said, “I’m getting off, Hodge. I’ll hold the log whilst you wrap that bairn up. As thin as she is, it will amaze me if she does not sicken from this ordeal.”

“Aye, sir,” Hodge said, firming his grip on the branch he held until Simon was ashore and then relinquishing it to give his full attention to warming the child.

That they had not seen the second child go by gave Simon hope that his lads had plucked it from the water, too. It occurred to him that although Kit had said “us,” revealing knowledge that the villains had thrown someone in besides herself, she seemed unconcerned about the fate of her companion.

As these thoughts teased him, he watched the woman, who was managing deftly now that she no longer had to worry about Kit. When she had made her way around the end of the log, he extended a hand to help her from the water.

Her exit was not graceful. She had lost her shoes, the bank was nearly vertical, and she kept tripping on her soaked skirts. How she had swum, let alone held on to the child, he could not imagine.

By the time he got her out, Hodge had wee Kit swaddled tight in his voluminous cloak and was holding Simon’s out in his free hand.

Taking it from him, Simon wrapped it around the woman and pulled the fur-lined hood up to cover her head. As he did, he saw that her eyes were not muddy brown but a clear, reflective gray. He said, “The sooner we get you to a fire and see you both well warmed, mistress, the less likely you are to—”

He broke off in consternation as she gave him a bewildered look, lost what remained of her color, and fainted. Had he not been tying the strings of the cloak, she’d have fallen flat. As it was, he barely caught her before she hit the ground.

“Sakes, m’lord,” Hodge said. “What do we do now?” Simon did not reply. He was staring at the woman in his arms.

As he’d caught her, he had scooped her up into his arms so abruptly that the hood had fallen off and the strands of loose hair that had hidden her face had fallen back, too, giving him a clear view of her features.

He had met her only two or three times before, but he recognized her easily.

“Ye look as if ye’d seen a boggart, m’lord. D’ye ken the lass then?”

“Aye,” Simon said curtly.

Although he saw Hodge raise an eyebrow, clearly expecting explanation, Simon said no more but strode off with her toward the horses instead.

He was hardly going to tell Hodge Law what even his own family did not know, that just three years before, he had nearly married the woman.

Slowly becoming aware of hoofbeats and motion, Sibylla realized she was on horseback and that someone was holding her in front of him on his saddle. His hardened, muscular body supported her securely and moved easily with the animal.

She had no doubt who he was.

Perhaps this will teach you, the next time you try to drown yourself, to do a proper job of it, she told herself with a touch of amusement, doubtless born of exhaustion or incipient hysteria.

Of all the people who might have rescued her, the one who had was the would-be bridegroom she had humiliated in Selkirk three years before, the man who had fiercely warned her afterward that he would someday see that she got her just desserts.

To be sure, due to her service with the princess Isabel and his with Isabel’s brother the Earl of Fife, now Governor of the Realm, they had met a few times since then but always in company, where he had behaved with chilly civility.