Chapter 17

In hindsight, she should never have stepped out of the tavern. As the curfew bell sounded, it should have been Lissie"s cue to go back to the warm confines of the George"s Inne. But with the pleasant summer around, the last rays of the sun dipping below the golden fields, Lissie felt an urge to walk. The fresh, clear air contrasted sharply with that of the London streets. Over the last weeks, the choked, pungent fumes had overwhelmed her. It was a blessed relief to be breathing in clean air once again.

Lissie paused by the small brook to admire the scene. Across the fields was London, its fug spreading deep. Lissie sighed.

This would be the last time she saw it. Or anyone in it. Lissie"s heart faltered. She could not bring herself to leave it entirely.

Glancing backward, she saw a spiral of smoke coming from the Inn. The hostelry was warm and welcoming, but every footstep closer was one away from him.

Will.

Dissatisfied, she fiddled with Florentine"s reins. Together, they held like stone, gazing into the summer skies. She was not supposed to be here. She had told Malcolm that she was at the inn. But she had grown restless. And before she knew it, she was here, watching out.

Staring back at London, Lissie thought about all she had left behind. Malcolm was there, somewhere, with all the bags. He had not been happy about her going ahead, but she had gone anyway.

And then there was Annice.

She had been unexpectedly generous, bestowing a gift of gold and silver upon her as a leaving present. This alone would make it worth the trip, and hopefully mean that she might avoid being married to Donald on her return.

Annice had also graciously invited her to stay anytime. Lissie had fought back the tears as she bade her farewell. But there was one person she had not said goodbye to, the one who occupied center space in her head.

It had been three whole days since she had heard from him. And even then, he had barely looked her in the eye. Holding on to Florentine, Lissie let the tears well up in her eyes. She could not help it. Everything had gone so wrong, and looking back at London only confirmed it. It was not for her. And neither was he. Dabbing at her eyes, Lissie"s fingers curled around the monogrammed linen handkerchief. Bringing it closer, she scrutinized the embroidery.

W.R.

It smelled of Will, which was distressing. Just about to pack it away, Lissie paused. All this time and he had never realized it was her he met that first day in London. Clutching the hankie close, Lissie sighed deeply. This was all she would ever have of him.

Just as she was sinking into solitude, from behind, a hand grabbed her. A thickset arm muffled her, wrapping around her throat.

Terrified, she froze as a man"s voice rang out, "One word an" I rip it out!"

* * *

Where was she?

Despondent, Will sat on a log and looked about. He was about a mile out of London but had paused by the roadside to rest his horse. In truth, he probably did not need a rest yet, but Will had spied a fresh running stream and hoped he might take a drink.

Patting the horse, Will gazed thoughtfully.

"Hope you"re ready for a long ride," he said, nuzzling the silver-gray charger his brother had lent him.

As his horse grazed softly on the undergrowth, Will glanced back to the city and sighed. He hoped he was on the right road. This was the only realistic route out north, and it seemed likely Lissie would have come this way, past Smithfield and along the Fleet.

Early on, he had thought he hit gold with a group of travelers claiming sight of her. But since then, nothing. Not a sight, and as the sun"s rays dipped below the fields, Will was beginning to despair he would ever see her.

Mounting Quicksilver with a heavy heart, Will set course for the Great North Road. If he picked up enough speed now, hopefully he would find an inn on the road ahead.

But he was not far down the road when a bloodcurdling squeal stopped him straight in his tracks.

There, a few dozen yards from his horse, were three men with a young woman held tight in their grasp.

Without a single thought, he rode, charging at top speed toward the golden field where the three men stood.

"Stop!"

He heard her cries carried on the wind from the hillock beyond. The wheat field was just out of reach, and getting to it was tough. Suddenly, every obstacle in the world sprung forth. There were logs, stones, twigs, branches, holes. Traversing the gaps in the road was tough. But Will went at it as fast as he could. Because as he did, the woman"s screams got louder.

"Get off me!" she cried.

And although he could barely see, it was clear there was some kind of struggle.

It was only as he came closer he saw the scene: three brigands—giant, unclean, rough brutes—had backed up the unknown woman against a wall. The wall formed a barrier alongside which the river flowed. Will watched as the three robbers pushed her against the wall.

"Halt!" cried Will, chivying on his charger.

But there was only so fast he could go. And he could only watch in horror as she was pushed up against the wall and frisked by the men.

"By the Lord"s bones, I will kill you!" swore Will as he raced his hardest to get close. But the brigands could not hear him. In fact, they did not even know he was there. They were too caught up in their own madness. One by one, they ripped at the young girl.

Then, one of them shouted, "Found it!"

In triumph, a dusty-haired brigand pulled out a pocket on a string from somewhere in the girl"s clothing.

Will"s heart sped up.

They were beasts, but he was too far to reach.

"Nay, I beg ye!" cried the girl, her voice carrying sparsely on the wind.

Will was forced to watch as the girl was dragged, then flipped unceremoniously into the icy cold of the river Fleet. Laughing, the brigands gathered their spoils—a tidy haul of jewels and gold. Then they left her face-down in the fast-flowing river.

His heart freezing, Will leaped from Quicksilver and plunged instantly into the water.

Splash!

The ice-cold river drenched him, nearly stopping his heart in shock. But there was no time to think about that. He had to get to her. In front of him, bobbing about, the young woman was flailing.

"Here," he said, offering his arm. She was a hair"s breadth away, but every time he came close, she drifted a little further.

In the noise and the fright, it was hard for Will to see her properly. Her slight form flailed around, and her dark hair shone in the water.

"Help me!" she gasped hoarsely. Then, without any warning, she dropped.

"N-Nay!" the woman screamed. She was sinking like a stone. Will dived again, struggling his hardest against the pull of the current.

Finally, he had her. Tucking her arms around his head, he waded out of the river, pulling her up onto the bank. It was only there he noticed the dress, hood, and kirtle. But most of all, her hair. Her long black hair covered her like a halo, and something about her shone like a charm. Her skin was so clear. Even this close up, it was translucent. Gently, he rested her perfectly proportioned body down on the ground. There, her glistening flesh enticed him in.

Her skin was smooth, with not one single line on her brow, and her cheeks were plumped and fresh. Even without seeing her face, she was perfect.

But when he did, he gasped out loud.

Lissie.

* * *

Strugglingfrom the depths of the water, Lissie battled to be free. But it was hard, so hard. Water streamed on top of her, keeping her down. She could not breathe.

It was deep.

She was buried down there. It was dark. Panicking, Lissie tried to get free. However, her limbs flailed. She could not fight it. It would get her. Much better to let her lie back and just let it happen.

So she plunged, lying still. But all was not as expected. Someone"s arms were around her, caressing, wrenching her out. And his lips, they were on her, locking deep. Stroking her face, he teased away a curl.

Then he leaned in and kissed her, again. A twinge spread from one end of her cheek to the other. And with it, a sweetness which rippled.

"Well then," he rasped. He sounded amused. But Lissie just lay there. She did not know where she was but wanted to see his face. Then, he kissed her, this time on the lips, with a satisfying rush.

Lissie closed her eyes as a voice shook her.

"Hoo Lissie! Lissie, it"s me! It"s Will!"

Will?

She opened her eyes. Blinking, she looked around.

Except she could not quite move her head. Just her eyes. So Lissie"s eyes darted from side to side. Then, straight ahead.

Will.

Hazily, his face came into view—the thick black hair, the smooth, pink skin, and of course, the sparkling blue eyes. Lissie felt instantly happy when she saw him; then, there was unease.

"Will?" She began sitting up, or at least trying to, before a spluttering fit took her. With no warning, she could not breathe. It was as if the river were still within her. Which it was, really.

Unable to do anything but gurgle, Lissie floundered, wretched on the ground, as Will swooped over her.

"Lissie?" he called, his voice only just reaching her. Time was running out.

Suddenly, Lissie was falling in deep. But this time, into herself. The water still in her lungs began to choke her.

Will!she tried to scream, but the coughing took her. Now unable to breathe, she did the only thing she could and stared hard.

Taking her, Will turned her around sideways and offered a good tap on the back. Finally, Lissie coughed up deeply. Gently, Will placed his arm around her back and pulled her up gently.

"Better?" he asked.

"Better," she said, coming around. Inside, everything felt faint. All she wanted to do was lie there. And let him kiss her again. Then, she turned swiftly toward him.

"Dinnae fash, lad. Ye"re going to do that wee thing again!" Her eyebrows raised. "And then, maybe I can get up."

"What wee thing?" said Will. He was looking at her with such hopeless confusion. How like an Englishman!

But Lissie just grinned. "This wee thing," she said, fingering him and bringing him closer. Then, she remembered something.

"Nay," she said, pushing him aside. "I cannae."

Will, who had been looking hopeful, now was uncertain.

"I mean, I cannae," she said, pouting. "Besides, I am nae a typical English lass. And I can nae be of any use to ye."

It was growing dark. All around, the night air thickened, bringing with it the chill of autumn. But watching her on the ground, Will just chuckled.

"Who says ye have to be of use?" he said unsurely. Then, he caressed her oval face with a comely smile. "And I am not the same man as I was before I met you. Lissie, you have changed me for the best."

Lissie just stared up at him, his eyes filling with tears.

"Aye," said Lissie uncertainly. "But I cannae be a proper Sassenach breed. Nor can I fit in that world. Will, London is nae me. But perchance, we can meet again."

"Lissie," said Will, solemnly taking her hand. As the light faded, the two of them carried on. "I don"t want a perfect London bride. I want you. I always did. Even from the start."

Lissie"s heart began erupting. She was not sure what was happening. This must be madness.

"Will," she said, trying again. She was still propped up on him. "Will, I cannae marry ye."

Raising her up, Will sniggered beneath his breath. "Well, if you cannot, you cannot, but I can wed thee, and we can do it in Scotland if you prefer. But I will tell you one thing: I am not leaving until you say you do!"

Eyes widening, Lissie gazed at the mess all around.

"Will," she said uncertainly as the lad pressed near. The specter of his kiss was just hanging close. Almost enough to see by. Like a light.

Then he did it. He delved closer and spiraled down to her, kissing her on the mouth. Wrapped in joy, Lissie gave into the moment.

"I love you, Lissie," whispered Will, "and I am going to be with you. Whatever you say, you cannot let them keep us apart!"