Unlacing the Innocent Miss. Margaret McPhee

      ‘My memory is perfectly fine, Mr Wolversley,’ she insisted.

      He stepped his horse towards her.

      She backed away in alarm, thinking he meant to snatch her up on to the beast.

      He stopped where he was, and the cool silver gaze scrutinized her for a moment more. ‘Very well then,’ he said at last.

      He glanced away. ‘Campbell, you and Kempster ride in front with the mare. I’ll stay behind with Miss Meadowfield.’

      She sagged with the relief of not having to share Wolf’s horse.

      The small party moved off. Campbell led the mare, riding abreast with Kempster, then came Rosalind on foot, and finally Wolf.

      There were no replacement horses in the next village. They left the little mare there and continued on.

      Rosalind walked, and amidst the relief at having won this small battle was the awareness of the man that rode behind her. She could hear the steady rhythmic clop of his horse’s hooves on the hard surface of the road. She tried to force her mind to turn away from him, to think other thoughts, to see anything but him, but all of her determination was useless. There was only the long road that stretched ahead and Wolf behind.

      

      Miss Meadowfield had been walking for three hours when Wolf decided that he would have to intervene. Not one word of complaint had she uttered, nor one single glance back in his direction, not even when they had made a brief stop to let the horses and themselves drink had she looked at him. The thick fur cloak hung heavy over her arm, her cheeks were flushed prettily from fresh air and exertion, several dark tendrils of hair had escaped her bonnet to snake against her throat, and there was an undeniable weariness in her step.

      He drew his horse alongside her.

      ‘You’ve made your point, Miss Meadowfield. You can climb upon my horse without any injury to your pride.’

      She did not turn her face to his, just kept on walking at the same steady pace. ‘I prefer to walk, Mr Wolversley.’

      ‘No doubt you do, but I’ve a mind to reach our next stop before nightfall.’

      She glanced over at him then and he could see the wariness on her face. Her pace increased, her feet stepping out faster over the uneven surface of the road. ‘I can walk faster.’