“He will come for you…”
Bonnie’s words echoed through her mind as one man broke away from the others. His hair was as dark as midnight and his eyes dark blue. His shirt sleeves were tied up at the shoulder, displaying how powerful his arms were. He looked like a Roman statue, all muscle.
“I am Brodick McJames.”
Philipa lowered herself, tugging on Anne’s wrist to ensure that she followed suit.
“Welcome to Warwickshire, my lord. Please accept our hospitality.” Philipa curtsied lower and more meekly than Anne had ever witnessed. But the Scot wasn’t interested in her show of deference, his gaze looked past the mistress of the manor to settle on Anne’s silent form.
He studied her lowered head, trying to see past the veil. She secretly prayed that the man would take Philipa’s offer and linger a few nights. That might undo Philipa’s foul scheme before it got a start.
“I regret that I dinnae have time to enjoy your kind invitation. I must return to my land.”
“I understand.” Philipa spoke almost too quickly but she covered up her glee with a loud sniffle. “Truly I do.”
He looked surprised but shook off the emotion quickly. “Good.”
His voice was rich and deep, his tone showing he was no stranger to commanding. “I give you my word that your daughter will have safe escort.” He climbed the front steps, growing larger with each one. When he stood even with them, his shoulders were above her nose.
“Thank you, sir.”
In all her life Anne had never heard Philipa sound so meek. She turned her head to stare at the woman, stunned to see such deception being played out. Philipa’s eyebrows rose slightly. “Now, Mary, mind your duty and greet your lord respectfully.” A flicker of temper appeared in her eyes. Anne knew that look well.
“My lord.”
Keeping her voice low, Anne lowered her head, remaining there for a long moment.
“My lady.”
He held out his hand, the palm facing up. A quiver went through her as she stared at it.
Eve must have felt the same quiver when she faced the serpent.
Philipa gave her a pinch and she placed her hand into his. With controlled strength, his fingers engulfed her hand. His large hand completely capturing her smaller one, he pulled her toward him, his eyes trying to peer through her veil. The fact that he could not seemed not to be a reason to linger. He turned, leading her down the steps. One of his men stood with a mare, holding it firmly as the earl walked her to it. Grabbing her skirts in order to lift her foot to the stirrup, Anne gasped when his hands unexpectedly grasped her waist. Her feet quickly left the ground as he tossed her up onto the back of the mare. His men sent out a cheer, their voices chuckling in the morning air. The earl flashed her a grin that transformed his face into that of a boy for a moment before it faded back to the confidence of a man. He watched her grip the front of the saddle and adjust her hips so that she was balanced on the horse side fashion.
“Mount.”
He bellowed the command as he swung up on his own mount. The horse was coal black, its eyes flashing.
“I saw him on a black steed…”
Anne lifted her eyes to the man on the horse. He wrapped the reins around one powerful hand, commanding the horse expertly. His eyes were focused on her, trying to penetrate her veil as his kilt rose up to show his legs. They were just as sculpted as his arms as he clasped the horse between his thighs. Wheeling about, she stared at the sword strapped to his back. Bonnie’s words sent a shaft of apprehension through her.
“You’ll have a baby before next harvest moon.”
She mustn’t.
There had to be a way to avoid it. The man holding her reins kept them, mounting his own horse and pulling hers along. She shivered as the household waved good-bye to her, calling out good wishes. She stared at the wide backs of the men in front of her, each one powerful. Their leader radiated strength as he rode back through the gates. Her mare followed, gaining speed as they cleared the outer wall.
Stiffening her resolve, Anne didn’t look back. Instead she looked straight at the wide back of the man she had to outwit. Where there was a will, there was a way.
That was the only thing she had time to think about. Bonnie’s dream would have to pass away this time.
She would make it so
There were not enough saints.
Anne gripped the saddle horn tighter, lamenting the lack of heavenly ears to lay her pleas on. Considering her plight, she needed more holy patrons to intercede on her behalf. Her gaze wandered over the shoulders of the earl. He was so powerfully built, she might not have believed it without seeing it herself. She wasn’t even sure that it was natural for men to grow so broad.