The air escaped his lungs, and he leaned his head on his forearm against the doorway. “Bloody hell.”
Thirteen
T he hand mirror. The one he’d forced her to clean up.
She’d taken the heavy silver-plated frame and hammered it against the equally heavy hairbrush handle to chisel away the bottom pins of the shutters. Yes, they were locked. Yes, they were thick.
But now they opened from the bottom.
He stormed from the room bellowing, “Liam, saddle up my horse.”
Just then, Liam lurched inside from the stable, eyes unfocused, hand on his head. “She’s—”
“Aye, I know,” Court snapped, shoving his pistol in his trouser waist. As he rushed to saddle his mount, he thought about the scene in her room. He’d never forget it for all his days. She’d propped up her battered tools, carefully arranging them, to let him know the extent of her trickery. Gloating…
Since there was only one route back to Pascal’s, Court knew how to follow. But she must’ve ridden like hell was at her heels, because he didn’t catch up with her for nearly half an hour. Just as he got his first glimpse of her, she disappeared. Once he rode to the spot where he’d last seen her, he understood why and didn’t even have time to tense before he and his horse went charging down a steep drop-off covered in slate. She’d taken it without even pausing.
Even now, toward the bottom, she hadn’t slowed her breakneck pace. Daft woman! His own horse was having difficulty flying down the terrain. He could hear the hooves fracturing the stone.
After this, the land twisted into canyons and wider coulees, and soon he was able to pull alongside her, yet every time he neared she veered away. Her riding was impressive, but in the end it was only a matter of time. His hand shot out to snag her reins, and in seconds he had them stopped and her swooped from her horse.
“Let—me—go!” She slapped at him, sounding like she was on the verge of real violence. Which she’d proved she didn’t mind using.
“Riding like this at night?” He set her down but took her shoulders. “On slate? You’re lucky you dinna break your neck.”
“You rode like that, too. Yet I’m the one who’s supposed to be considered fortunate?”
His hands tightened on her. “Why will you no’ listen to reason, lass? Your brother’s gone and you’d sacrifice yourself for nothing. If you’d cooperate with me, I’ll get you to safety. You ken we will no’ hurt you.”
She narrowed her eyes accusingly. In the stark moonlight he could clearly see the abraded skin on her chin.
“That will no’ happen again,” he said, but she still fought to break his grip.
She kicked out, connecting with his leg, too high and too close for comfort. “Annalía, do you want a graphic lesson on exactly why it is you should no’ kick a man like that?” Bloody hell if she didn’t do it again and closer. “One more time and I swear tae you I’ll snatch up your skirts and turn you over—” He went silent, and drew her to him, her back to his chest, covering her mouth with his hand. A sound nearby put him on edge.
Her teeth found his skin, of course, sinking deep, and he clenched his jaw. Something rustled in the bushes, getting closer. “Who’s out there?” he called, as he pulled his pistol free.
After several tense moments, they heard, “We’re here to return Annalía Llorente to Pascal.”
“My arse,” he muttered, cocking his gun. Had to be the Rechazados. No one else could have found them here. “Listen to me, Anna. These men are no’ here to collect you—they’re the Rechazados. Have you heard of them?”
She nodded, releasing her teeth.
“So you know they’re assassins, no’ escorts. Now will you cooperate with me?”
She said a muffled, “Yes.”
He eased his hand away, shaking it to regain some feeling in the skin she’d chewed. “Now we need to get—”
“Help me!” she screamed, lunging forward when he caught her waist. “I’ve been captured!”
One shot rang out, the sound blasting through the arroyo like a cannon, then more rained down, pitting the earth all around them. Court shoved her behind him, keeping his grip on her wrist as he fired twice.
Too many of them. Too close. He clasped her in his arms and dove behind a hill.
The horses shrieked and reared, galloping away. Bloody hell. His ammunition was in his saddlebag.
“Help me!” she screamed again, struggling against his grip.
“Shut your mouth, woman. They’re shooting at us, and you want to give them a bead?”