My Highland Lord (Highland Lords, #2)

Phoebe was sure she heard a chuckle as he continued around the back of the building. He halted and pointed at Mather, then jerked his head toward the far end of the building. Mather hurried to the edge and, a moment later, held up one finger, clearly indicating another of their attackers was closing in on the side he surveyed.

The highwayman motioned Mather toward the trees, then leaned toward her, his breath startling her as his mouth touched her ear. He whispered, “We'll make a dash for those trees. Hold tight to my hand.”

He grasped her hand and sprinted forward. Phoebe yanked up her skirts as they raced across the short expanse. He glanced back in the instant before they entered the cover of trees, then muttered something and dragged her to the ground. His body rolled onto hers like the weight of a fallen carriage, and she gasped for air. A shot rang out and she flinched. Mather shouted, then her companion sprang to his feet, pulling her up beside him. Phoebe dragged in a heavy breath, barely managing to keep pace as he hurried deeper into the trees. A man appeared up ahead. Relief eased the knot in her stomach upon recognizing Mather. The highwayman stopped once they reached his side.

A long moment of silence passed before her captor said, “I want to see if they've given up. Double back around to the north, Mather. You know where to meet should we become separated.”

“Perhaps, sir, I should deal with the men?”

“I will be quicker in dispatching them.”

“As you wish, sir,” Mather replied. “But bear in mind, should anything happen to you, it is I who will face your father.”

“Never fear,” a chuckle tinged the highwayman’s voice, “I won't leave you to so deplorable a fate. I have no intention of allowing these common brigands to get the best of me.”

“Would that be common in comparison to a not-so-common brigand such as yourself, sir?” Phoebe asked.

“You don't take kindly to being abducted by one brigand, while being pursued by another?”

“A comedian,” she commented dryly.

“A comedian is a much safer wager than those fellows," he said, then slinked off in the direction they had come.

Phoebe followed Mather in the opposite direction. She waited until she was sure they were alone, then groaned and swayed.

“Miss!” He caught her before she collapsed.

She leaned heavily on him. “I-forgive me.”

"Are you all right, Miss?”

Phoebe nodded. “You understand the strain of two abduction attempts in one night?”

“Well…” he began.

“I'm unaccustomed to skulking about in the forest.” She shivered for good measure.

“Indeed,” he agreed, and allowed her to lean on him as they started forward.

Phoebe sighed. “Perhaps…” she let her voice drop off.

“What is it, Miss?” He guided her around a large branch.

“If I were back in the safety of my carriage…”

“We'll soon have you back,” he replied.

“Can’t we go directly there? Your master will make short work of those men. We could—”

“Oh no, we must be sure those rogues are dispatched before we return.”

“Which rogues do you refer to?” she demanded.

“Beg your pardon, Miss?”

His voice, she realized, carried a note that was just a bit too solicitous. She yanked free of his grasp. “Very funny, my man.”

“Are you sure you're all right, Miss?” he asked with no change of demeanor.

“No, I am not all right. Would you be all right if you had been abducted against your will?”

“No,” he answered thoughtfully, “I suppose not.”

Phoebe distinguished the edge of the forest up ahead.

“We’ll wait here.” Mather grasped her arm and urged her down to the ground.

She resisted. “I don't want to sit on the ground. It is wet.”

“Better wet than dead.” He shoved her with enough force that she plopped onto the ground.

“You are no gentleman," she muttered.

They waited for what she estimated to be twenty minutes when Mather said, “You’re looking fit, sir.”

She twisted to see Mather’s master approaching. Even in the darkness she discerned his limp.

“Well enough, Mather,” he rejoined.

Phoebe rose as he neared.

“Shall we?” Grasping her arm, he started toward the road.

“That’s a bit of a limp you’ve got there,” she said as they broke from the trees. “Have a little trouble when you did away with those scoundrels?”

He looked sharply at her. “I did not do away with anyone, madam."

“You did away with the one you shot.”

“I didn’t kill him or the others. Though, they will have blazing headaches tomorrow.”

“Payment for injuries inflicted?” Mather asked, keeping his gaze straight ahead.

“It was,” he said with emphasis. “But only because the one fellow was reluctant to lay down his weapon.”

Mather gave a single nod. “As you say, sir.”

Phoebe glanced about for the carriage. The dilapidated farmhouse lay to the left a short distance, but the carriage wasn't where they'd left it in front of the building. She scanned to the right and spied the coach sticking out from the trees a little farther down the road.

“Why didn’t they take the carriage?”

“Lack of funds, I would imagine,” the highwayman replied.

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