a master. One of the incentives to marry is the freedom it would gain me.”
He reached out a finger to stroke Sheba's variegatedcream and gray feathers. “Freedom isn't good for a woman, according to my father.”
Christ, I'll enjoy taming her, more than the falcon!
Raven's eyes sparkled. “If I refused to marry you, would you carry me off as your father did your mother?”
“I thought you didn't want a master.”
Raven laughed. “I don't! Nevertheless, I think it the most romantic thing I've ever heard.”
“Here comes my falcon. Damn, he's flown into that treetop and won't come down.”
“Sultan is just not used to men. He'll come to me.” When Raven moved away from Chris Dacre, Sultan flew to her wrist and released the snipe he had caught. Raven handed the falcon to Dacre. “Would you like to try again?” Her invitation held a double meaning.
“Let's ride closer to Bewcastle; the game there is plentiful.”
Raven agreed, laughing. “You just want to be sure of your quarry. Lead the way!”
Dacre quickly secured Sultan to his saddlebow, mounted Blackadder, and rode heedlessly through the trees, leaving Raven far behind him. Suddenly he saw a horse and rider in his path—it was the dark Borderer he had tangled with at Carlisle Fair. He drew rein, scenting danger, and when he glanced about him, saw that he was surrounded. “What do you want?” he demanded.
“I want my horse.” The words were implacable.
The look and the voice of the Borderer held such a threat, fear slithered down Dacre's spine. He saw that they had Mangey Armstrong's brother, bound and gagged, and was careful that no recognition passed between them. Dacre suddenly set his spurs to the stallion's flanks and roweled hard in a desperate attempt to flee. Heath Kennedy was after him in a heartbeat, and the moss-troopers closed ranks to trap Dacre. Blackadder reared in terror, the blood on his flanks clearly visible against his glossy coat. Heath slipped from his roan and grasped the black stallion's bridle. Thenhe grabbed Dacre, pulled him from the saddle, and smashed his fist into his face. “You vicious whoreson, if I ever see you bloody another horse, I'll take a whip to you.”
“Take the damn horse!” Dacre offered desperately.
“I intend to take you both.”
At this moment, Raven came upon the scene. When she saw Dacre picking himself up from the ground, she cried, “Christopher! What's going on?” She looked at the mounted moss-troopers surrounding them, and then she saw the dark Borderer who called himself Kennedy. Fear prickled her scalp. She had known from the first moment she had seen him that he was dangerous. She had felt the subtle sense of threat whenever he had drawn close to her, yet she had willfully ignored it. Anger suddenly overcame her fear. “You Scots swine, how dare you attack us without provocation!”
Heath Kennedy stared at her in utter disbelief. “Raven Carleton, what the hellfire are you doing here?”
“I am visiting Bewcastle with Christopher Dacre.”
“Scum like him will blacken your reputation,” he spat angrily.
“We are betrothed! Christopher Dacre and I are to be married.”
Her words were flung at him defiantly, like steel-tipped arrows, and they hit their mark. Never in his life had Heath Kennedy wanted anything as badly as he wanted Raven Carleton. The lust that rose up in him was so strong, he wanted to tear off her fancy clothes, lay her back in the grass, and put his brand on her. The dark beauty was a challenge to his manhood, and the thought that she belonged to Christopher Dacre was unendurable to him. “That's strange,” he sneered. “In Carlisle, Thomas Dacre was considering a match with Beth Kennedy for his precious son and heir.”
“Things have been settled since then,” Raven said loftily. “Christopher and I are pledged.”
Not for long
, Heath vowed silently.
I took Blackadder from him and I shall take you too!
He was suddenly elated, forhere was the
He reached out a finger to stroke Sheba's variegatedcream and gray feathers. “Freedom isn't good for a woman, according to my father.”
Christ, I'll enjoy taming her, more than the falcon!
Raven's eyes sparkled. “If I refused to marry you, would you carry me off as your father did your mother?”
“I thought you didn't want a master.”
Raven laughed. “I don't! Nevertheless, I think it the most romantic thing I've ever heard.”
“Here comes my falcon. Damn, he's flown into that treetop and won't come down.”
“Sultan is just not used to men. He'll come to me.” When Raven moved away from Chris Dacre, Sultan flew to her wrist and released the snipe he had caught. Raven handed the falcon to Dacre. “Would you like to try again?” Her invitation held a double meaning.
“Let's ride closer to Bewcastle; the game there is plentiful.”
Raven agreed, laughing. “You just want to be sure of your quarry. Lead the way!”
Dacre quickly secured Sultan to his saddlebow, mounted Blackadder, and rode heedlessly through the trees, leaving Raven far behind him. Suddenly he saw a horse and rider in his path—it was the dark Borderer he had tangled with at Carlisle Fair. He drew rein, scenting danger, and when he glanced about him, saw that he was surrounded. “What do you want?” he demanded.
“I want my horse.” The words were implacable.
The look and the voice of the Borderer held such a threat, fear slithered down Dacre's spine. He saw that they had Mangey Armstrong's brother, bound and gagged, and was careful that no recognition passed between them. Dacre suddenly set his spurs to the stallion's flanks and roweled hard in a desperate attempt to flee. Heath Kennedy was after him in a heartbeat, and the moss-troopers closed ranks to trap Dacre. Blackadder reared in terror, the blood on his flanks clearly visible against his glossy coat. Heath slipped from his roan and grasped the black stallion's bridle. Thenhe grabbed Dacre, pulled him from the saddle, and smashed his fist into his face. “You vicious whoreson, if I ever see you bloody another horse, I'll take a whip to you.”
“Take the damn horse!” Dacre offered desperately.
“I intend to take you both.”
At this moment, Raven came upon the scene. When she saw Dacre picking himself up from the ground, she cried, “Christopher! What's going on?” She looked at the mounted moss-troopers surrounding them, and then she saw the dark Borderer who called himself Kennedy. Fear prickled her scalp. She had known from the first moment she had seen him that he was dangerous. She had felt the subtle sense of threat whenever he had drawn close to her, yet she had willfully ignored it. Anger suddenly overcame her fear. “You Scots swine, how dare you attack us without provocation!”
Heath Kennedy stared at her in utter disbelief. “Raven Carleton, what the hellfire are you doing here?”
“I am visiting Bewcastle with Christopher Dacre.”
“Scum like him will blacken your reputation,” he spat angrily.
“We are betrothed! Christopher Dacre and I are to be married.”
Her words were flung at him defiantly, like steel-tipped arrows, and they hit their mark. Never in his life had Heath Kennedy wanted anything as badly as he wanted Raven Carleton. The lust that rose up in him was so strong, he wanted to tear off her fancy clothes, lay her back in the grass, and put his brand on her. The dark beauty was a challenge to his manhood, and the thought that she belonged to Christopher Dacre was unendurable to him. “That's strange,” he sneered. “In Carlisle, Thomas Dacre was considering a match with Beth Kennedy for his precious son and heir.”
“Things have been settled since then,” Raven said loftily. “Christopher and I are pledged.”
Not for long
, Heath vowed silently.
I took Blackadder from him and I shall take you too!
He was suddenly elated, forhere was the
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