Chapter 2

" M y husband is not here," Martha Landfield said, scowling at the two men through the crack in the door. "You will have to come back tomorrow."

"I'll be halfway to Scotland tomorrow," Robert explained. "Give me his direction so that I may seek him out."

"I'm not sure where he is," she told him. "What is your business?"

"My business is with your husband." The woman's rudeness irritated Robert. Everything about this blasted affair irritated him. He and Gavin had traveled at full speed from London in an icy downpour, Gavin looked pale and weak as a newborn kitten, and now to be kept standing on the doorstep in the rain by this surly harridan was an annoyance not to be borne. "And I must see the vicar today. My friend is not well—may I leave him here while I seek your husband?"

The woman started to close the door.

Robert muttered a curse and thrust out a booted foot to prevent it from shutting. With an arm he hurled the door open wide. "Madam, perhaps you did not understand," he said with soft menace. "I will see your husband, and my friend will stay here until I return."

Gavin grimaced. "I think I'd rather go with you, Robert."

Robert ignored him. "You'll give him a chair by the fire and a hot drink. And if he asks any service, you will give it with a smile."

"A smile?" Gavin gave the woman's flushed, enraged face a skeptical glance. "She'll probably poison me. Yes, I definitely think I'm well enough to go with you."

"Be quiet." Robert shoved him into the foyer as he fixed his eyes on the woman. "You understand?"

"You cannot make me—" She stopped, her expression becoming wary as she met his gaze. Grudgingly, she said, "I suppose he may stay."

"And you have in your care a Mistress Kathryn Kentyre. While I'm gone, have her pack her bags and ready herself for a journey."

"Kathryn?" She repeated the name in bewilderment. "Why should you have …?" She paused. "You come from the lady?"

"Lady?"

"The queen. You have come on orders from the queen?"

Robert smiled bitterly. "You might say I'm under orders."

"And you're to take the girl away?"

Robert nodded.

The news appeared to dissolve the woman's rage. "My husband…he will not like it. But," she rushed on, "he'll have to obey the queen, won't he?"

"It appears we all have to obey Her Majesty," Robert said sardonically. "Prepare the girl."

"She's not here," she said, her brow furrowed in thought. "He went after her."

"What?"

"It was the horse," the woman muttered. "That old plug of a horse. I told him it was a mistake to give it to her."

"Horse?"

She made an impatient gesture. "What difference does it make? The willful girl has been gone two days."

Willful. A meek, virtuous girl, the queen had described her, Robert remembered sourly. Meek and virtuous young women did not leave their homes and venture forth into the world alone. Elizabeth had obviously saddled him with a chit as spoiled and wild as her mother.

"Where is your husband searching for the girl?"

"The forest. He thinks she's hiding in the forest. She tried the road last time she ran away, and he doesn't believe she'll go that way again. Caird is too slow." She smiled in satisfaction. "And he'll find her. Sebastian grew up here and knows every inch of that wood."

"What part of the forest is he searching today?"

She shrugged.

"What does the vicar look like?"

"Thin, white hair…he was wearing his warm gray cape."

"Pack the girl's garments." He turned away and mounted his horse.

"Tell me where he is," Sebastian coaxed as he roped Kate's wrists together in front of her. "You know I'll find him eventually. Why should you make us both suffer like this? You're shaking with cold, and you must be hungry."

She did not answer. Stupid, she had been so stupid. She should not have stopped to rest. She had known her only chance to escape someone who knew these woods as well as Sebastian was to keep moving. No matter how exhausted she had been, she should have kept on.

"A horse is such a large, cumbersome creature. It's not easy to hide one even in the forest. You know how determined I am. I'll find him, Kate."

"You won't find him. You'll never find him."

"And if I don't, the beasts of the forest will. Caird's old and unable to defend himself. Isn't it better to let me put him to death than have them feed on him?"

The thought sent a shudder through her. She had not considered the woodland predators. How clever of Sebastian to strike at her weakest point. But she had hidden Caird well and had left enough grass to last him for a while. She would have to rely on fortune to protect him until she could get back to him. "He's safe. He's not going to die."

"So stubborn. So strong in your corruption." He mounted his horse and tied the rope to the saddle. "Tell me when you change your mind."

He nudged his horse forward, and the rope tightened as the animal started slowly down the path. She plodded after him, knowing the ropes would bite into her wrists if she did not keep the pace. One foot after the other. The trees were shifting around her, but she would not faint. It was only a little more than three miles to the cottage, and she could surely stay on her feet that long. She knew if she fainted, he would not stop. He would pull her after him through the forest until they reached the cottage.

"You're wrong, you know." Sebastian turned in the saddle to look at her. "So wrong and full of sin." He kicked the horse into a trot. The rope drew more tightly, jerking her forward.

She had to remain on her feet. She must not fall.

She stumbled forward, lurching from side to side as she tried to keep up.

"Tell me where you've hidden the horse."

She dimly heard the words through a haze of pain. Her wrists were starting to bleed.

One foot after the other.

She must not fall.

White hair. Gray cloak. A tight, ascetic expression that was an unpleasant reminder to Robert of the priests in Don Diego's castle in Santanella. Sebastian Landfield. It had not been as difficult a task as he had feared to locate the vicar.

"Master Landfield?" He spurred ahead toward the man coming down the trail. As he drew closer, he noticed the man was dragging something behind him that looked like a small muddy tree or branch.

Sebastian Landfield tensed as he reined in the horse at Robert's approach. His glance raked over Robert. "Yes, I am Sebastian Landfield. Who are you?"

"Robert MacDarren, earl of Craighdhu. I have a letter to you from Her Majesty."

"You came from the queen?" He darted an uneasy glance at the burden pulled by the horse. "I was not expecting a message."

"I was not expecting to deliver it." As Robert drew even with him on the trail, he reached beneath his cloak for the envelope and then thrust it at Landfield. "And I was certainly not expecting to have to chase you through the—"

The muddy object on the trail behind Landfield stirred. It was not a tree.

"God's blood!" Robert got down from his horse. "What the devil is this?"

"The girl isn't hurt," the vicar said quickly.

"Girl?" He knelt down and turned over the now inert form. She looked little more than a child, slight and frail, her bound wrists chafed and bleeding. He brushed aside the long, wet strands of hair clinging to her cheeks. Aside from a faint bruise on her temple, the portion of her face not covered by the mud of the trail was undamaged. She appeared to be in a faint.

"She was merely being punished for her transgressions," Landfield said calmly, then hesitated before continuing. "However, the queen may not understand. It might be better not to tell her of—"

"I have no intention of telling her anything." Robert drew his dirk and cut the ropes that bound the girl's wrists. "I assume this is the girl under your guardianship? Kathryn Kentyre?"

"It is."

He lifted the girl into his arms and rose to his feet. Even with the heavy mud clinging to the skirts of her gown, she weighed almost nothing. He felt another flare of anger. He was not above violence himself but he hated cruelty to the helpless. No matter what the girl had done, she couldn't have deserved this. "You'll be relieved to know she's no longer in your gentle care."

"What?" The vicar's eyes widened in alarm. "Because of this small incident? All young girls must be punished. Their natures are—"

"Read the letter." Robert strode back to his horse, mounted with some difficulty, and cradled the girl in front of him. "I'll see you back at your cottage."

"Who …?" It was only a breath of sound, but it came from the girl in his arms.

He glanced down at her.

Huge eyes that appeared more gold than brown stared up at him.

"Don't be afraid. I'm taking you home."

"I don't…have a home." The words were spoken with stark desolation. Her lids slowly closed again. "Not afraid. You're not—" She was once more in a faint.

Not what? he wondered. Not Sebastian Landfield? It appeared any man, any stranger, was acceptable, as long as it wasn't the man who had brutalized her, he thought savagely.

As he spurred his horse into a gallop, his arms tightened around her with instinctive possession.

"Where can I put her?" Robert demanded as he strode into the cottage.

"Where is my husband?" Martha Landfield asked.

"Following. Where?"

She pointed to the staircase. "Her room is at the top of the stairs."

"Heat water, and then come up to change her garments," he ordered as he started up the steps.

"This is the bride?" Gavin strolled into the hall and stood at the bottom of the stairs looking up at him. "Is she hurt?"

"Landfield assures me she's not," Robert answered, continuing up the steps. "How can being dragged through the forest at the end of a rope hurt a person?"

Gavin followed him. "I take it the good vicar is as pleasant as his charming wife."

Robert didn't answer as he placed the girl on the narrow bed in her room.

"We're staying the night?" Gavin asked.

"It's already late afternoon, and I can hardly take her away from here until she can ride. We'll start early tomorrow morning."

Gavin looked critically at the girl's face. "It may be more than one day. She doesn't look well. Are you sure she doesn't need a physician?"

"She has no broken bones, and she woke for a moment on the trail." Robert took off her muddy slippers and soggy stockings and tossed them on the floor. "Let's hope she's resilient."

Gavin was still staring at Kate's face. "Do you think she looks like Mary Stuart?"

"How do I know? I've never seen Mary."

"I saw a painting once, and we've both heard her described.…" His gaze went over the small nose, the mouth with its fuller lower lip, the arched brows. "What color are her eyes?"

Golden-brown eyes staring up at him without fear .

"Brown."

"Well, that's the same, but her features have no regularity. She's certainly not as comely as Mary."

"Maybe she takes after her father. Shrewsbury is no Adonis." Where the hell was that woman with the hot water? The girl's feet were ice cold.

"Maybe." Gavin's eyes began to twinkle. "I was hoping for something better for you. However, the lass is scarce more than a child. Perhaps she'll improve with age. I'd hate to have you saddled with an ugly wife."

Robert gave him a quelling glance. "Go back downstairs and sit by the fire."

"You'd send me back to that dragon?" He sighed and moved toward the door. "Very well."

"And keep Landfield from coming up here," Robert called.

"It's doubtful he would try to hurt her while you're here," Gavin said as he pulled the door closed.

That wasn't what Robert was worried about. He wasn't certain if he could keep himself from skewering the man if he came within striking distance. He knew the anger he was feeling was all out of proportion. Though the punishment appeared extreme, custom gave guardians the full right to punish their wards in any way they saw fit. The girl was not hurt badly, and she was nothing to him.

No, not nothing. She was going to be his wife. He had thought of her only as the "girl," the albatross Elizabeth was trying to fasten permanently around his neck. Now, suddenly, this scrawny bit of flotsam was a person and soon to be his possession. It did not seem to matter that he intended that possession to be of the most temporary nature.

He reached out and gently brushed a strand of mud-coated hair from the girl's cheek.

And, by God, no one damaged something that belonged to him.

Kate slowly opened her lids to see a man's face only inches from her own. Dark eyes…hollow cheeks, well-shaped lips that made her want to reach up and trace their curve. How odd, when she had never wanted to touch any man before…

Safety. Well-being. Home.

The overwhelming impression came out of nowhere but was not unfamiliar. Though she could not recall where she had seen this face, she could remember a warm sense of security connected with it. Strange, when he did not appear either secure or tame now that she studied him.

He reminded her of one of the wild Gypsy folk who occasionally traveled through the village, but his clothing was much too fine. The large round pendant hanging from a heavy gold chain shimmered against the black velvet of his doublet, and the short cape he wore was simple but elegant.

"Who …?" Her voice was so thin, she could scarcely hear it herself. She tried again. "Who are you?"

"Robert MacDarren." His deep voice held a hint of a Scots brogue. "How do you feel?"

"Well."

"Liar," he said crisply. "You're covered from head to foot in mud, and you're probably one big bruise."

The lack of gentleness in his tone jolted her to full wakefulness and immediately dispersed that feeling of contentment. She must have been mad to think this man safe when he was clearly hard, distant, and without compassion. Memory swirled back to her. The trail. He had been the man on the trail. "What are you doing here? Are you a physician?"

He shook his head.

No, he didn't have the look of a healer, but Sebastian never let strangers into the house unless there was need. "Are you—"

"I'm the earl of Craighdhu. I come from the queen."

"The lady?" Another messenger. That explained the fine clothes and air of bold confidence.

His dark eyes narrowed on her face. "Why do you call her that?"

She looked at him in confusion. The other messengers had not had to be told. They had phrased their orders with care, making certain that the source of their authority remained anonymous. "Because no one must know, of course."

His lips tightened. "I see. And I suppose no one must know how Landfield treats you? I'm sure that must—"

"You'll have to come down and talk to him, Robert."

Her gaze flew to the man who had spoken and was standing in the doorway. Curly red hair, freckles, not much older than herself. Another stranger, but one far less intimidating than the Gypsy in the chair beside the bed.

"She's awake?" The man came a step into the room, his face alight with interest as he studied her. "Ah, that's better. The eyes are really magnificent. You may not be as bad off as I feared, Robert." He bowed. "I'm Gavin Gordon, and I'm delighted to meet you, Mistress Kentyre."

Robert didn't give her a chance to reply as he asked impatiently, "Why should I come downstairs?"

Gavin's glance shifted to Robert. "Oh, the old man is roaring. He wants to see you."

"Later."

Gavin shrugged. "As you like, but he won't let the woman bring up the hot water to wash the mud off her."

MacDarren made a low exclamation, and the chair scraped against the floor as he stood up. "Damn him, the stuff is beginning to cake on her." He started for the door and then paused to look back at Kate. The harshness was gone from his voice when he said, "Try to go to sleep. Everything's going to be fine."

Gavin followed him out of the room and closed the door.

Everything's going to be fine .

The words had been spoken with such cool authority that for a moment she almost believed him. He came from the lady, and Sebastian was always careful in dealing with those emissaries who came to receive reports and give instructions regarding her upbringing. Perhaps she could appeal to him to save Caird. He appeared to possess a boldness and arrogance that had not been apparent in the other messengers. He might intercede with Sebastian on her behalf.

But then he would go away.

They always went away, and she would be alone again. She was always alone. Sebastian would be free once more to do whatever he wished.

However, the man was here now and distracting Sebastian's attention from her. She must not depend on anyone but herself. She had to seize the opportunity that presented itself.

She threw back the blanket and slowly sat up on the bed.

She gasped as pain shot through her shoulders. MacDarren was right about the bruises. Every muscle in her body cried in protest at the movement.

She was barefoot, she realized. Where were her shoes and stockings? She found them and put them on with stiff, fumbling fingers.

She could not leave by the front door, but that presented no problem. The bedroom window had been her escape many times before. She had only to hang by her arms from the windowsill and let herself drop to the ground.

She shuddered at the thought of putting extra strain on muscles already oversore. She cast a longing glance at the bed. How she wanted to lie back down and draw the covers up around her.

But if she didn't go now, heaven knows when she'd get another chance to escape, and Caird was alone in the woods.

She took a deep breath and opened the window.

Sebastian Landfield stood in front of the hearth with his hands clasped behind his back, the flames lighting the meagerness of his wiry body.

"You wanted to see me?" Robert asked as he strode into the parlor.

"I most certainly do." Landfield fixed him with a stern glance. "I've been trying to be patient, but I find your interference intolerable, my lord."

"How unfortunate," Robert said dryly. "But if you've read Her Majesty's letter, you'll realize you no longer have any right to object. The girl is mine."

"No!" Landfield took a deep breath and then said with less violence, "I'm sure Her Majesty does not realize what a mistake it would be to take her from my care at this delicate time. She is not ready to be left without supervision."

"As her husband, I'll provide any supervision necessary."

"You'll not be able to provide the guidance she needs. You don't understand her. If she leaves me now, you'll undo all I've worked to accomplish."

"I believe I'm capable of controlling one frail girl." He smiled grimly. "And, if I have difficulties, I can always drag her behind my horse for a mile or two."

"You think me cruel?" Landfield asked harshly. "You know nothing . The punishment would scarcely affect her. She has a strength you would find unbelievable."

Robert had a fleeting memory of the pitiful fragility of the girl he had just left. Od's bodkin, the man was crazed. "The matter is closed. Tell your wife to take the water upstairs."

"The matter is not closed." Landfield's pale eyes blazed with fury. "You will listen to me. I will not see her sent out into the world to wreak destruction as her mother has done. The queen must have told you whose child she is when she arranged this marriage. Do you know what evil lies waiting within her? Every day she changes and grows more like that Catholic whore at Fotheringhay. You cannot marry her. She must wed no one. She is a Lilith."

"Who the devil is Lilith?"

"The first wife of Adam in Eden, the temptress, the mother of wickedness. Once she has you in her clutches, she will tempt and lure until you are helpless before her. She will mold you like wet clay."

Robert heard a sound like a smothered snort from Gavin, standing in the doorway behind him. Gavin's reaction mirrored his own. The idea of that mud-soaked urchin upstairs being a Lilith and able to turn strong men weak was totally ludicrous. He had had enough of this nonsense.

"Gavin, go to the kitchen and help Madam take that hot water upstairs." Robert turned back to Landfield as Gavin left the room and said coldly, "I appreciate your concern, but I assure you I'm in no danger from a fledgling lass."

"You think you can master her when I still have not conquered her after all these years?" His lips thinned. "But I will conquer her, body and soul. Her Majesty must give me the opportunity. She must not be taken away."

He was tired of talking to this vicious old man. "As I said, the matter is closed. We will leave at dawn if the girl is well enough."

Two bright spots appeared in Landfield's cheeks. "You cannot let her—"

"Robert?"

They both turned to see Gavin in the doorway, an uneasy expression on his face.

"She's gone," he said.

Robert stiffened. "What?"

"She's gone. The window was open. And…" He waved a hand. "Gone."

"How could she be gone? Her chamber is on the second floor, and she could barely lift her head—"

"I told you." Landfield smiled triumphantly. "A will of iron. Can't you see what trouble she will bring you? She needs a firm hand to keep her in—"

"Come on, Gavin." Robert cut off the vicar in midsentence as he strode toward the door. "She can't have gone far, and she'll be easy to track in all this mud."

"Shall I get the horses?"

"No time. We'll go on foot."

She was being followed!

Sebastian?

Kate paused a moment on the trail and caught a glimpse of dark hair and the shimmer of the gold necklace about her pursuer's neck. Not Sebastian. Robert MacDarren.

The wild surge of disappointment she felt at the realization was completely unreasonable. He must have come at Sebastian's bidding, which meant her guardian had persuaded him to his way of thinking. Well, what had she expected? He was a stranger, and Sebastian was a respected man of the cloth. There was no reason why he would be different from any of the others. How clever of Sebastian to send someone younger and stronger than himself to search her out, she thought bitterly.

She turned and began to run, her shoes sinking into the mud with every step. She glanced over her shoulder.

He was closer. He was not running, but his long legs covered the ground steadily, effortlessly, as his gaze studied the trail in front of him. He had evidently not seen her yet and was only following her tracks.

She was growing weaker. Her head felt peculiarly light, and her breath was coming in painful gasps. She couldn't keep running.

And she couldn't surrender.

Which left only one solution to her dilemma. She sprinted several yards ahead and then darted into the underbrush at the side of the trail.

Hurry. She had to hurry. Her gaze frantically searched the underbrush. Ah, there was one.

She pounced on a heavy branch, backtracked several yards and held it, waiting beneath the dripping trees.

She must aim for the head. She had the strength for only one blow, and it must drop him.

Her breathing sounded heavy and terribly loud. She had to breathe more evenly, or he would hear her.

He was almost upon her.

Her hands tightened on the branch.

He went past her, his expression intent as he studied the tracks.

She drew a deep breath, stepped out on the trail behind him, and swung the branch with all her strength!

He grunted in pain and then slowly crumpled to the ground.

She dropped the branch, ran past his body and darted down the trail again.

Something struck the back of her knees. She was falling!

She hit the ground so hard, the breath left her body. Blackness swirled around her.

When the darkness cleared, she realized she was on her back, her arms pinned on either side of her head. Robert MacDarren was astride her body.

She started to struggle.

"Lie still, dammit." His hands tightened on her arms. "I'm not—Ouch!"

She had turned her head and sunk her teeth into his wrist. She could taste the coppery flavor of blood in her mouth, but his grip didn't loosen.

"Let me go!" How stupidly futile the words were when she knew he had no intention of releasing her.

She tried to butt her head against his chest, but she couldn't reach him.

"Really, Robert, can't you wait until the vows are said before you climb on top of her?" Gavin Gordon said from behind MacDarren.

"It's about time you got here," MacDarren said in a growl. "She's trying to kill me."

"Aye, for someone who couldn't lift her head, she's doing quite well. I saw her strike the blow." Gavin grinned. "But I was too far away to come to your rescue. Did she do any damage?"

"I'm going to have one hell of a headache."

Kate tried to knee him in the groin, but he quickly moved upward on her body.

"Your hand's bleeding," Gavin observed.

"She's taken a piece out of me. I can see why Landfield kept the ropes on her."

The ropes. Despair tore through her as she realized how completely Sebastian had won him to his way of thinking. The man would bind her and take her back to Sebastian. She couldn't fight against both MacDarren and Gavin and would use the last of her precious strength trying to do so. She would have to wait for a better opportunity to present itself. She stopped fighting and lay there staring defiantly at MacDarren.

"Very sensible," he said grimly. "I'm not in a very good temper at the moment. I don't think you want to make it worse."

"Get off me."

"And have you run away again?" MacDarren shook his head. "You've caused me enough trouble for one day. Give me your belt, Gavin."

Gavin took off his wide leather belt and handed it to MacDarren, who buckled the belt about Kate's wrists and drew it tight.

"I'm not going back to the cottage," she said with a fierceness born of desperation. "I can't go back there."

He got off her and rose to his feet. "You'll go where I tell you to go, even if I have to drag—" He stopped in self-disgust as he realized what he had said. "Christ, I sound like that sanctimonious bastard." The anger suddenly left his expression as he looked at her lying there before him. "You're afraid of him?"

Fear was always with her when she thought of Sebastian, but she would not admit it. She sat up and repeated, "I can't go back."

He studied her for a moment. "All right, we won't go back. You'll never have to see him again."

She stared at him in disbelief.

He turned to Gavin. "We'll stay the night at that inn we passed at the edge of the village. Go back to the cottage and get her belongings and then saddle the horses. We'll meet you at the stable."

Gavin nodded and the next moment disappeared into the underbrush.

MacDarren glanced down at Kate. "I trust you don't object to that arrangement?"

She couldn't comprehend his words. "You're taking me away?"

"If you'd waited, instead of jumping out the window, I would have told you that two hours ago. That's why I came."

Then she thought she understood. "You're taking me to the lady?"

He shook his head. "It appears Her Majesty thinks it's time you wed."

Shock upon shock. "Wed?"

"You say that as if you don't know what that means. You must have had instructions on the duties of wifehood."

"I know what it means." Slavery and suffocation and cruelty. From what she could judge from Sebastian and Martha's marriage, a wife's lot was little better than her own. True he did not beat Martha, but the screams she had heard from their bedroom while they mated had filled her with sick horror. She had thought she would never have to worry about that kind of mistreatment. "But I can never marry."

"Is that what the good vicar told you?" His lips tightened. "Well, it appears the queen disagrees."

Then it might come to pass. Even Sebastian obeyed the queen. The faintest hope began to spring within her. Though marriage was only another form of slavery, perhaps the queen had chosen an easier master than Sebastian for her. "Who am I to marry?"

He smiled sardonically. "I have that honor."

Another shock, and not a pleasant one. Easy was not a term anyone would use to describe this man. She blurted, "And you're not afraid?"

"Afraid of you? Not if I have someone to guard my back."

That wasn't what she meant, but of course, he wouldn't be afraid. She doubted if he feared anything or anyone, and besides, she wasn't what Sebastian said she was. He had said the words so often, she sometimes found herself believing him, and she was so tired now, she wasn't thinking clearly. The strength was seeping out of her with every passing second. "No, you shouldn't be afraid." She swayed. "Not Lilith…"

"More like a muddy gopher," he muttered as he reached out and steadied her. "We have to get to the stables. Can you walk, or shall I carry you?"

"I can walk." She dismissed the outlandish thought of marriage from her mind. She would ponder its implications later. There were more important matters to consider now. "But we have to get Caird."

"Caird? Who the devil is Caird?"

"My horse." She turned and started through the underbrush. "Before we go, I have to fetch him. He's not far.…"

She could hear the brush shift and whisper as he followed her. "Your horse is in the forest?"

"I was hiding him from Sebastian. He was going to kill him. He wanted me to tell him where he was.…"

"And that was why he was dragging you?"

She ignored the question. "Sebastian said the forest beasts would devour him. He frightened me." She was staggering with exhaustion, but she couldn't give up now. "It's been such a while since I left him.…" She rounded a corner of the trail and breathed a sigh of relief when she caught sight of Caird calmly munching grass under the shelter of an oak tree. "No, he's fine."

"You think so?" MacDarren's skeptical gaze raked the piebald stallion from swayback to knobby knees. "I see nothing fine about him. How old is he?"

"Almost twenty." She went over to the horse and began to tenderly stroke his muzzle. "But he's strong and very good-tempered."

"He won't do," MacDarren said. "We'll have to get rid of him. He'd never get through the Highlands. We'll leave him with the innkeeper, and I'll buy you another horse."

"I won't get rid of him," she said fiercely. "I couldn't just leave him. How would I know if they had taken good care of him? He goes with us."

"And I say he stays."

The words were spoken with such absolute resolution, they sent a jolt of terror through her. They reminded her of Sebastian's edicts, from which there was no appeal. She moistened her lips. "Then I'll have to stay too."

MacDarren's gaze narrowed on her face. "And what if Landfield catches you again?"

She shrugged and leaned her cheek against Caird's muzzle. "He belongs to me," she said simply.

She could feel his gaze on her back and sense his exasperation. "Oh, for God's sake!" He picked up her saddle from the ground by the tree and threw it on Caird's back, then began to buckle the cinches. "All right, we'll take him."

Joy soared through her. "Truly?"

"I said it, didn't I?" He jerked off the belt binding her wrists, picked her up, and tossed her into the saddle. "We'll use him as a packhorse, and I'll get you another mount to ride. Satisfied?"

Satisfied! "Oh, yes. You won't regret it. But you needn't spend your money on another horse. Caird is really very strong. I'm sure he'll be able to—"

"I'm already regretting it." His tone was distinctly edgy as he began to lead the horse through the forest. "Even carrying a light load, I doubt if he'll get through the Highlands."

It was the second time he had mentioned these forbidding Highlands, but she didn't care where they were going as long as they were taking Caird. "But you'll do it? You won't change your mind?"

For an instant his expression softened as he saw the eagerness in her face. "I won't change my mind."

Gavin was already mounted and waiting when they arrived at the stables a short time later. A grin lit his face as he glanced from Kate to the horse and then back again. "Hers?"

Robert nodded. "And the cause of all this turmoil."

"A fitting pair," Gavin murmured. "She has a chance of cleaning up decently, but the horse…" He shook his head. "No hope for it, Robert."

"My thought exactly. But we're keeping him anyway."

Gavin's brows lifted. "Oh, are we? Interesting…"

Robert swung onto his horse. "Any trouble with the vicar and his amiable wife?"

Kate's hands tensed on the reins.

"Mistress Landfield appeared overjoyed at giving me the girl's belongings." He nodded at a small bundle tied to his saddle. "And the vicar just glowered at me."

"Perhaps he's given up."

"He won't give up," Kate whispered. "He never gives up."

"Then perhaps we'd better go before we encounter him again," Robert said as he kicked his horse into a trot. "Keep an eye on her, Gavin. She's almost reeling."

Sebastian was waiting for them a short distance from the cottage. He stood blocking the middle of the path.

"Get out of the way," Robert said coldly. "I'm not in the mood for this."

"It's your last chance," Sebastian said. "Give her back to me before it's too late."

"Stand aside, Landfield."

"Kathryn." Sebastian turned to her, and his voice was pleading. "Do not go. You know you can never wed. You know what will happen."

Robert rode forward, and his horse's shoulder forced Sebastian to the side of the trail. He motioned Gavin and Kate to ride ahead. "It's over. She's no longer your responsibility." His voice lowered to soft deadliness. "And if you ever approach her again, I'll make sure I never see you repeat the mistake."

"You'll see me." Landfield's eyes shimmered with tears as his gaze clung to Kate. "I wanted to spare you, Kathryn. I wanted to save you, but God has willed otherwise. You know what has to be done now."

He turned and walked heavily back toward the cottage.

"What did he mean?" Gavin asked as his curious gaze followed Landfield.

She didn't answer as she watched Sebastian stalk away. She realized she was shivering with a sense of impending doom. How foolish. This was what he wanted her to feel; this was his way of chaining her to him.

"Well?" Robert asked.

"Nothing. He just wanted to make me afraid." She straightened her shoulders. "He likes me to be afraid of him."

She could see he didn't believe her, and she thought he would pursue it. Instead, he said quietly, "You don't have to fear him any longer. He no longer holds any power over you." He held her gaze with a mesmerizing power that frightened as well as soothed her. "I'm the only one who can hurt or help you now."