A Daring Passion

s companion’s coat. “Then pray that you heard correctly. I have not charged you with stealing from the church coffers because you swore you could hand me the Knave of Knightsbridge. You will find yourself bound for the colonies if he is not captured within a fortnight.”

His threat delivered, the magistrate marched to his waiting horse and hoisted himself into the saddle. He galloped down the road without once glancing back.

“Bloody bastard.” Timms made a rude gesture toward the retreating man before awkwardly climbing on his own horse and heading back toward Knightsbridge at a much slower pace.

Raine sucked in a shaky breath as she considered what she had learned.

The magistrate was plotting a scheme to trap her father. And the detestable Timms was willing to hand Josiah Wimbourne to the gallows to save his own sorry neck.

Blast. After all her efforts, her father was still in danger.

She had to warn him. She had to…

“If you intend to take up residence in my favorite tree I suppose I should invite you in for a bit of tea. It must be thirsty business to perch up there for such a length of time.”

Raine squawked as the female voice drifted from directly beneath her. Instinct alone had her clutching the branch to keep her from tumbling to the ground and breaking her fool head.

Managing to regain her balance, Raine glanced down to discover a small woman with silver hair pulled into a long braid and a thin face that was lined from age. A thick cloak that was decorated with an odd fringe of feathers was pulled around her frail body.

Raine didn’t recognize her. She was certainly not the sort of woman someone would forget.

Which, of course, only made the awkward situation all the more embarrassing.

“Oh…I…Forgive me,” she at last stammered.

The woman tilted her head to one side, seeming to take the sight of a strange female perched in her tree with unusual calm.

“What is there to forgive? I allow the birds and squirrels to make free use of the trees. Why should I not offer the same for a young lady hiding from the magistrate?”

Raine bit her lip. Blast. The woman had not only seen her dressed in the garb of the Knave of Knightsbridge, but now she realized that the magistrate was near.

Even the slowest wits would suspect that something nefarious was occurring.

“Hiding?” Raine tried to choke out a small laugh as she stiffly climbed down the tree and brushed the bits of bark from her rumpled cape. “No, indeed. I was…”

“No, no, you cannot lie to me, my dear,” the woman firmly interrupted, peering into Raine’s wary expression. “I have been waiting for you, you see.”

“Waiting for me?” Raine frowned, her hands stilling in surprise. “I believe you must be confused.”

The woman gave a soft laugh. “Most people certainly think so. They call me Mad Matilda.”

Raine gave a choked noise. She had, of course, heard of Mad Matilda. Who had not? The poor woman was blamed for every drought or sudden illness or lost child in the neighborhood.

“The witch?”

The thin features tightened. “If I were a witch why would I be living in a cottage with a roof that leaks and chimneys that smoke? And just look at that garden wall.” She pointed a gnarled finger toward the wall that was now little more than a pile of rocks. “Why, it is a disgrace. Do you think I would allow it to fall into such disrepair if I could boil a lizard or two and have it all in perfect order? No, lass, I am not a witch.”

Raine found herself laughing at the woman’s exasperated words. She had never really considered the matter, but it did make sense that if a woman could conjure magic, she would live in a great deal more comfort.

“But you said you were expecting me.”

“Aye, I will admit that I do have the Eye,” the woman said. “Those who don’t understand the power would call it magic, but it is no more than a talent. Like being able to sing or dance.”

Raine thought she should be uneasy at being so close to the woman. Even if she was not a witch, there was still something distinctly odd about her. But she experienced no fear or apprehension. Instead, there was an unshakable curiosity growing within her.

“I…see.”

With a small smile the woman reached out to take her hand and tugged her toward the decrepit cottage.