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Binding Vows(13)



The man opened his mouth to give an explanation, shut it, then opened it again. “I never had the opportunity to apologize for last night for your injuries. Today I can’t get near ye, ah, you without one of those men blocking my way.”

Suspicious, she creased her brows. Her eyes peered deep inside him to see if he spoke the truth.

“In that case, apology accepted.”

35



Catherine Bybee



He gave a timid smile. “I’m sorry to sneak in on you. I hope I didn’t startle you too much.”

“You scared the hell out of me.”

“Then I must apologize again.” He bowed. “I’m very sorry.”

“Don’t do it again.”

“As you wish.”

Slowly the hair on Tara’s arms started to return to normal. The massive man standing before her felt less like a threat than the guard at her door. “What I wish doesn’t seem to be what anyone around here is thinking of.”

“Perhaps I should leave the same way I came.

No one will know I was here.” He turned away.

“Wait.” Tara scanned the tent. “How did you get in here?”

“There’s a hole in the canvas.” He moved to the opening and lifted the folds, showing her the daylight. “Look for yourself.”

Hope springs eternal. I have an out! I can breathe a bit of summer air, without Bruno breathing down my shoulders. Peace, tranquility.

She shuffled for a few seconds, almost giddy with the possibility of getting away. “Hey, you wouldn’t mind helping me get out of here for a while would you? This whole royalty thing is making me nuts.”

He sent her a puzzling look and a slightly wicked grin. “Aye, I’ll help you escape.”

Her words came on a thankful sigh. “Great. Let me just leave Cassy a note.” She scribbled a message and placed it on the mirror where it would be noticed.

“Here, you’ll need this.” He took off the cape he wore and draped it around her shoulders. It was dreadfully hot, but Tara knew she would be spotted the minute she showed her face. She tucked her hair down her back and pulled the hood over her head.

36



Binding Vows



“How’s this?” she asked.

“Good, follow me.” He took her hand and led her to freedom.

No one saw them leave. They moved quickly, skirting the parameter of the campground. Tara wasn’t sure where they were headed, and frankly didn’t care. She was just happy to get away from all the people.

His horse was settled and grazing beyond the makeshift village. He mounted in one fluid motion, like a dancer. Hesitating when she noticed the size of the horse, Tara stood with her feet firmly on the ground.

“Are ye coming, lass?” He held out a hand.

She stared at his hand and then the horse. “This is crazy!” She grabbed her gallant stranger’s hand and felt her weight being tossed on the back of the horse.

He didn’t give her time to get comfortable before yelling a command. “Hold on.”

The horse took off in a full gallop. She clenched his waist to keep from being thrown off.

Once the camp was no longer in sight, Tara tossed the hood of the cape back, and let her hair flow through the wind. “Yee Haw!” she yelled at the top of her lungs. “Freedom... at last!”



****

They stopped when they found a stream. Enough water flowed to make a soft gentle whisper.

Trees held back the afternoon sun and wild flowers bloomed on the stream banks.

He dismounted before lightly plucking her off his horse.

“Hot damn, we ditched them.” Tara did a little dance. “That was great.”

“I’m glad to be of service, my lady.” After removing a pack from his horse, he led him to a patch of grass to graze.

37



Catherine Bybee



“You can drop the act. My name is Tara. Not, my lady.” Tara took off the cape and handed it back.

“Aye. I mean yes. I know your name.”

“Then why say, my lady?” She watched as he draped the cape on the ground so they had a place to sit. “It’s hard to address you as anything else, dressed as you are.”

“Your accent... It isn’t fake is it?”

“Nay, it isn’t.”

“You’re originally from Scotland?” Tara sat down and crossed her legs.

“Aye.”

“I suppose all the women in Scotland dressed like this. And you call them all, ‘my lady’?”

“Not all the women. But, those who are, I give them their due respect and title.”

He’s kind of strange. Drop dead gorgeous, but strange. Who comes to a different country to visit a Renaissance fair?

His accent liquefied more than her knees. She was having a hard time concentrating on his words instead of the twinge that tickled her thighs when he talked. If she didn’t know better she would think he was chivalrous.