CHAPTER ONE
Julia Prentiss sat in the road as the tail of her mare vanished around a large pile of boulders. In other circumstances she likely would have thought the sight pretty—a black horse galloping, riderless, into the cloud-filled orange and purple sunset. It was precisely the sort of thing she’d imagined when she’d suggested that a summer visit to Scotland for her aunt’s wedding would make for a perfect Christmas present. She fingered the ripped hem of her blue gown and scowled. This wasn’t even remotely what she’d had in mind.
Nothing in the past five days, in fact, seemed like any sort of holiday gift she ever would have asked for. Not in a thousand years. So she supposed she shouldn’t have been surprised at being flung to the ground now. It all went perfectly along with the horrid nightmare this so-called gift had become.
Once she had her breath back, she wiggled her fingers and her toes. Her backside would definitely be bruised tomorrow, but nothing seemed to be broken—which was also the first bit of good luck she’d managed in the past five days. It was also likely the last bit of luck she would see. She certainly couldn’t risk waiting by the side of the road hoping for a friendly face. It was far more likely the next person she saw would be decidedly un friendly.
That thought sent a chill down her spine, and she carefully gathered her feet beneath her and stood. The long, narrow lake that had attracted her attention lay close by on her right, and though she should likely be spending her energy recovering that blasted horse, thirst had already turned her mouth to dust. With a quick look behind her at the empty rolling hills of rock and heather, Julia made her way to the water’s edge, squatted down, and scooped up mouthfuls of blessedly cold water with both hands.
Whatever she thought of Hugh Fersen, Lord Bellamy, he’d chosen well when he’d dragged her off here. She’d been riding for two hours or so, and other than Bellamy Park and the scattering of cotters’ shacks around it, she hadn’t seen so much as a chimney. And now she couldn’t see her horse either. In another twenty minutes, she wouldn’t be able to see anything at all because it would be completely dark. Another thought occurred to her. Wolves had supposedly been killed off in the Highlands, but she wasn’t as certain about bears. Or wildcats. And to think, she might have asked for a visit to Paris. Or a new gown.
“Damnation,” she muttered. Would one bit of luck be too much to expect?
A splash of water out in the lake answered her. If she’d been hungry enough to consider raw fish, she would have been interested, but though breakfast had been hours and hours ago, she and her hunger hadn’t yet reached the point of desperation. At the edge of the water she’d hoped reeds would offer her some sort of shelter from the view of the road, but evidently here either the weather wasn’t temperate enough or the wind was too strong to allow any plants to grow above ankle height. A canyon would hide her, or a nice deep valley, but she didn’t want to hide as much as she wanted to be gone from here entirely. Cowering under a tree wouldn’t serve any purpose.
From somewhere in the distance a low sound rumbled across the craggy hills, and she shivered. Whether it was a gunshot or thunder, it reminded her how very exposed she was. Whatever her wishes, she would have to find somewhere to shelter and hope the night and the rain hid her trail. Julia straightened. As she turned, something caught her eye, and she bent down. A large swathe of checkered material had been folded and set across a low boulder. She snapped the cloth open to see black and white and gray squares with a thick red threading shot through them, almost like blood.
Bellamy’s clan colors were blue and green and black; anything different was welcome. Had she finally gotten free of Fersen land? The low rumble repeated, and she wrapped the cloth around her
Julia Prentiss sat in the road as the tail of her mare vanished around a large pile of boulders. In other circumstances she likely would have thought the sight pretty—a black horse galloping, riderless, into the cloud-filled orange and purple sunset. It was precisely the sort of thing she’d imagined when she’d suggested that a summer visit to Scotland for her aunt’s wedding would make for a perfect Christmas present. She fingered the ripped hem of her blue gown and scowled. This wasn’t even remotely what she’d had in mind.
Nothing in the past five days, in fact, seemed like any sort of holiday gift she ever would have asked for. Not in a thousand years. So she supposed she shouldn’t have been surprised at being flung to the ground now. It all went perfectly along with the horrid nightmare this so-called gift had become.
Once she had her breath back, she wiggled her fingers and her toes. Her backside would definitely be bruised tomorrow, but nothing seemed to be broken—which was also the first bit of good luck she’d managed in the past five days. It was also likely the last bit of luck she would see. She certainly couldn’t risk waiting by the side of the road hoping for a friendly face. It was far more likely the next person she saw would be decidedly un friendly.
That thought sent a chill down her spine, and she carefully gathered her feet beneath her and stood. The long, narrow lake that had attracted her attention lay close by on her right, and though she should likely be spending her energy recovering that blasted horse, thirst had already turned her mouth to dust. With a quick look behind her at the empty rolling hills of rock and heather, Julia made her way to the water’s edge, squatted down, and scooped up mouthfuls of blessedly cold water with both hands.
Whatever she thought of Hugh Fersen, Lord Bellamy, he’d chosen well when he’d dragged her off here. She’d been riding for two hours or so, and other than Bellamy Park and the scattering of cotters’ shacks around it, she hadn’t seen so much as a chimney. And now she couldn’t see her horse either. In another twenty minutes, she wouldn’t be able to see anything at all because it would be completely dark. Another thought occurred to her. Wolves had supposedly been killed off in the Highlands, but she wasn’t as certain about bears. Or wildcats. And to think, she might have asked for a visit to Paris. Or a new gown.
“Damnation,” she muttered. Would one bit of luck be too much to expect?
A splash of water out in the lake answered her. If she’d been hungry enough to consider raw fish, she would have been interested, but though breakfast had been hours and hours ago, she and her hunger hadn’t yet reached the point of desperation. At the edge of the water she’d hoped reeds would offer her some sort of shelter from the view of the road, but evidently here either the weather wasn’t temperate enough or the wind was too strong to allow any plants to grow above ankle height. A canyon would hide her, or a nice deep valley, but she didn’t want to hide as much as she wanted to be gone from here entirely. Cowering under a tree wouldn’t serve any purpose.
From somewhere in the distance a low sound rumbled across the craggy hills, and she shivered. Whether it was a gunshot or thunder, it reminded her how very exposed she was. Whatever her wishes, she would have to find somewhere to shelter and hope the night and the rain hid her trail. Julia straightened. As she turned, something caught her eye, and she bent down. A large swathe of checkered material had been folded and set across a low boulder. She snapped the cloth open to see black and white and gray squares with a thick red threading shot through them, almost like blood.
Bellamy’s clan colors were blue and green and black; anything different was welcome. Had she finally gotten free of Fersen land? The low rumble repeated, and she wrapped the cloth around her
Similar Books
