The Raider (Montgomery/Taggert 9)

Chapter Six

ALEXANDER looked about him cautiously. It had been difficult rescuing George Greene from under the whip. Nicholas had helped by setting up his servants at the back of the crowd and, just as Alex, dressed as the Raider, was ready to ride from his hiding place, Nick gave the order to fire. In the ensuing confusion, Alex was able to gallop through the people, pull George into the saddle behind him and escape unharmed. It’d taken him a lot longer to escape the English soldiers, but they didn’t know the area and it had been a child’s game of hide-and-seek to evade them.

Josiah Greene was waiting at the edge of the forest with horses and passage on a ship traveling south. “I knew you’d come,” Josiah said. “I knew you’d not let my boy be whipped for saving you.”

Alex was a little disconcerted that Josiah had so easily predicted the Raider’s actions and where he would enter the forest, because if Josiah guessed, perhaps next time an army would be waiting for him. Without speaking, the Raider released George and disappeared into the trees.

It was amazing how soon he’d become a symbol of hope to these people, Alex thought. Already, they were depending on the Raider to save them from any injustices. All except Jessica Taggert, that is.

Adam could save the town, Alex thought, remembering Jessica’s words. Or Kit could. Have you ever thought of losing weight, Alex? He’d like to show her just exactly how much he weighed. Eleanor sent him out with clean clothes for Jessica and orders to see that she bathed. Neither of those women seemed to have any idea he was a man. Jessica disrobed when he was standing but a few feet away from her. And that time he had held her by the legs so she could reach that rotten old net of hers! That time he hadn’t thought he was going to live through it.

He adjusted the mask on his face, making sure it was tight. There were times when he wanted to grab Jessica, grab her and show her he was a man.

“Ooohhh.”

He heard a cry that was half swoon, half plea and instantly realized he’d been so involved in thinking about what he’d to do to Mistress Jessica that he hadn’t been keeping watch.

He reined his horse in, stood still and listened as someone came thrashing toward him. He drew his sword and waited.

Mistress Abigail Wentworth, her pretty face flushed from the exertion, came bursting through the trees. She took one look at the Raider atop the black stallion, put her hand to her breast and began to sink to the ground.

Alex was off his horse in seconds and caught her before she hit the floor of the forest.

“Will you use that on me?” she gasped, lying in his arms and rolling her eyes toward his sword. “Will you slice the clothing from my body before you have your way with me?”

“Why no, I…” He wasn’t sure what to answer her but the sight of her heaving bosom so exposed to his view—she’d removed her scarf so a great deal of young, pink flesh was showing—made him think about her offer. “Are you all right?”

She threw her arms about his neck, pressing her bosom to his chest. “I am your slave, your captive. Do with me what you will.”

Alex raised his eyebrows, but never a man to question extreme good luck, the next minute he was kissing her. She returned his kiss with such passion that before he knew what he was doing, he was halfway to the ground with her.

She was eager, warm, willing—and the daughter of one of his father’s oldest friends.

“Abby,” he said, trying to disentangle himself from her arms. Her hair had come loose and it was soft against his cheek. “Abby.” Her name came out like a groan.

“I love to hear you say my name. My own Raider. My own true love.” She moved her hips against his, trying to kiss him again, but he pulled away.

“Go home to your mother,” he said and found his voice a little shaky. Why did he have to be the Raider in his own hometown? Anywhere else and he’d take this eager young filly without a thought. “Go home, Abby. Please go home.”

She flung herself against a tree, her face flushed, her breasts about to come out of the tight dress. “How noble you are,” she whispered.

“Or how stupid,” Alex mumbled, looking at her. If he didn’t get out of here soon, he’d lose his resolve. With half of his mind calling him a fool, he jumped into the saddle of his horse. “Goodbye, Mistress Abigail,” he whispered as he urged his horse forward.

“Damn all women!” he cursed. Jessica thought he wasn’t a man at all and Abigail thought he was more man than a herd of stallions. He shifted in the saddle, feeling like only half the man Abby thought him to be. Now all he had to do was make it to Ghost Island—and he prayed he would encounter no more women.

* * *

Jessica looked at the big basket full of blackberries and grimaced. She owned her own ship, had sailed, by herself, as far south as New Sussex, yet today she’d been relegated to picking blackberries like a naughty child.

And it was all the Raider’s fault!

When it had been announced that George Greene was to be whipped, everyone had said the Raider was going to save him. They had said the Raider had to save the boy, as if it were a matter of honor.

As if they knew anything about the Raider’s sense of honor or anything else for that matter, she thought. Everyone in town seemed to have endowed this Raider with magical skills, talents that no human had ever possessed. They expected this masked man to right all wrongs, to single-handedly fight the British laws.

But not everyone had believed the Raider to be perfectly good. Jess had delivered twenty pounds of haddock to the Montgomery house and had been told Sayer wanted to see her. She hadn’t seen him since the evening the Raider had thrown her in the washwater and she’d cried in his arms. She had been smiling when she entered Sayer’s room but not when she left.

Sayer had demanded that she stay away from town the next day. It had been on the tip of her tongue to ask him what gave him the right to make such a demand, but she hadn’t said what she thought. The Montgomery family had been good to hers over the years and, besides, she couldn’t very well be disrespectful to an old and crippled man who was only concerned for her well-being. Reluctantly, she had agreed to stay in the forest for the entire day. Sayer hadn’t even wanted her on the wharf or near her own ship.