The women did not get very far. It was no one's fault, just happenstance. Helen's mount set her foot down wrong as she landed after leaping a log in their path. Releasing a scream of pain, the animal went down hard, sending Helen to the ground with a cry of alarm.
Tugging sharply on her own mount's reins to bring him to a halt, Seonaid glanced back to see Aeldra make good use of her swift reflexes to steer clear of the fallen horse and rider.
Turning her animal, Seonaid urged him back to the fallen mare, releasing the breath she'd been holding when Aeldra reached the girl and horse first and helped Helen to her feet. Apparently, the woman had suffered a fright but was otherwise unhurt.
"Is she all right?" Helen asked anxiously as Aeldra turned her attention to the mare struggling back to her feet.
The shorter woman examined the leg briefly, watching as the mare hobbled lamely a step or two, then glanced up at Seonaid and shook her head.
Mouth tightening unhappily, Seonaid bent to grasp Helen's arm and draw her attention. "Come. Mount behind me. We'll share my mount."
"But my mare," she protested. "She is hurt."
"We have no time to tend her," Seonaid snapped as Aeldra mounted her own horse. "Gavin will see to her."
"But--"
"There is no time to argue. They are comin'."
Sighing, Helen nodded resignedly and struggled onto the saddle behind her with a little help, then clasped her arms around her waist as Seonaid urged her horse forward. They'd taken only a few steps when they heard the thunder of approaching hooves.
Cursing, Seonaid pressed her heels to the horse's belly, urging it to gain speed, but she knew the effort was useless. The approaching riders were pounding toward them at a dead run. And her mount now had the weight of two to carry. Seonaid wasn't surprised when after less than a hundred yards the men caught them up and shot past them, then slowed their own horses and dropped back, two of them crowding her mount and Aeldra's together from the sides. Lord Blake slowed his own before them, forcing them to come to a halt.
Silence reigned for a moment as they all eyed each other; then Blake offered a chilly smile. " 'Tis obvious by your abrupt departure that you are eager for the wedding to occur. Howbeit, I fear your sense of direction is somewhat lacking. I must tell you, you were headed the wrong way once more, my lady. Dunbar is west."
"Ha, what a wit ye are, m'laird," Seonaid said. "I doubt not but ye leave the women laughin' at ye at every turn."
Blake's gaze narrowed. Her words could be taken in either of two ways and he very much suspected she meant it in the most insulting light. "Rolfe?"
"Aye?" The red-haired Englishman urged his horse forward, glancing at him questioningly.
"Mayhap you should take the good sister onto your mount," he suggested.
"She rides with me," Seonaid said grimly, urging her horse backward as the other man moved his own horse toward hers.
"She rides with Lord Rolfe," Blake ordered grimly.
Seonaid opened her mouth to snap at him, then smiled suddenly with a nasty sweetness before asking, "Affeared I might escape ye? Again?"
A wry smile tugging at his lips, Blake nodded. "Aye."
His honesty surprised her so much, Seonaid simply sat there as Rolfe moved forward and lifted Helen gently from her horse to his own, settling her comfortably before him as he moved the horse a short distance away.
Seonaid was frowning her displeasure at Blake when he suddenly smiled and called out to the other man. "Little George."
"Aye?"
"Aeldra rides with you."
Nodding grimly, the large man urged his horse forward to collect the woman, but she was of no more of a mind to make things easy than her mistress. The little hellion kicked the great man in the shin as his horse reached her side, then tried to punch him in the face as he ignored the first strike and lifted her from her own mount to his. In the end, he had to catch both of her small hands in one of his own and hook one of his great legs over both of hers to prevent her from doing herself damage. He managed to calm her as he settled her on the saddle before him, but she glared at him with disgust before throwing Seonaid an apologetic sigh as she sank against his huge chest.
Mouth tightening as she saw her ability to escape slipping away, Seonaid glared at her betrothed, almost daring him to come near her.
Blake picked up the challenge at once and urged his own mount toward hers. Seonaid immediately made her own stallion side step away, and the animal responded at once. Blake's eyebrows rose at the skill, but he urged his horse closer, unsurprised when she again deftly avoided him. Shaking his head, he glanced toward Little George and nodded. Understanding the silent order, Little George moved forward even as Blake did again. When Seonaid automatically began to urge the mount into a side-step, she found herself coming up against Little George's horse. Before she could instruct her stallion to move forward or back, Blake reached out and caught her about the waist, drawing her easily onto his lap.
He wasn't terribly surprised when she immediately began to struggle against him, though he was a bit startled by her strength as she did so. Tightening his arms around her, he hid his surprise with an expression of mixed exasperation and amusement. "We can do this the easy way, my lady, or the hard one. 'Tis up to you."
"Then it'll be the hard way," Seonaid muttered. Elbowing him in the chest, she tugged hard on his horse's reins, so the animal reared up, hooves pawing the air and sending Blake toppling from the saddle behind her. Seonaid grunted with satisfaction as the beast settled back on all fours, then squeezed her knees and sent him into a dead run for the hill ahead.
"Aye, I can see you are handling the situation much better than I," Lord Rolfe commented with amusement, peering down at Blake from his seat on his mount. "No doubt we shall reach Dunbar within the year at this rate."
Cursing, Blake struggled back to his feet, accepting the reins of Seonaid's horse when Little George offered them. Mounting the animal, he didn't even bother to comment to the man, but charged off after his betrothed.
His horse was fast and Seonaid rode him well, but her horse was faster, he saw with interest and not a little disapproval. In his opinion, 'twas a shame to waste such a beast on a woman; a warrior would have got more use out of it. Still, despite the animal's speed, they had gone quite a distance before he managed to catch up to her. Glad he wore the plaid and not encumbering mail, Blake raised his feet to the saddle and launched himself at her. He was a little behind Seonaid but caught her with his left arm as he flew past, tugging her from her mount and bringing her crashing to the ground on top of himself. Her own landing cushioned by his body, Seonaid recovered first from their tumble and struggled to her feet, attempting to flee toward her horse, but Blake regained himself enough to reach out and clasp her ankle before she'd managed a step. His hold on her, pitted against her forward momentum, sent her crashing to her stomach on the forest floor.
Shifting onto his hands and knees, he started to rise, then paused to grab her ankle again whe
n she started to scrabble away from him in the dirt. Falling back to her stomach, Seonaid rolled onto her back to kick at him with her free leg. Catching the second ankle as well, Blake held it fast, then cursed when she immediately sat up to strike out at him with balled fists. Yanking her ankles wide apart, he dragged her along the forest floor until he knelt between her open legs. Then he stopped her struggling by the simple action of launching himself on top of her. His legs quickly stopped the action of her own, and his hands grabbed hers and dragged them above her head so they were unable to strike out at him. Face-to-face and panting heavily, they glared at each other where they lay, then Blake began to feel a sense of awareness stealing through his body.
Frowning over the surprising reaction, Blake managed a wry smile as he regained his breath somewhat, then muttered, "You are a fair handful, my lady."
Seonaid did not smile back. "An' ye're an English dog."
His smile losing some of its luster, he arched his eyebrows arrogantly. "That is a fine thing coming from a red shank."
Seonaid's eyes narrowed at the insulting term the English often used to refer to Scots. She spat, "Better a red shank than the spawn of a Sassenach."
"Methinks your protests excessive, my little rough-foot. Mayhap you are not as adverse to the wedding as you would have me believe." He arched an eyebrow when she merely glared at him, too furious to speak. "Out of words to parry with, my lady?"
" 'Tis sorry I am to admit it, m'laird, but aye," Seonaid admitted with a suddenly sweet smile. Then she added, "But then, I have ever been better with the sword than with words. Shall we try those now instead?"
She began to struggle beneath him again as she spoke, and Blake found himself briefly distracted by the surge of heat her movement engendered within him. It took him a moment for her challenge to sink in. When it did, he shifted his lower body to still her struggles and released a short, deep laugh. "Nay, my lady. The only sword I would use with you is one you have not to use back." He was satisfied by the sudden deep red flush coloring her cheeks. "You are quite lovely when you are not cursing or spitting, my dear. Your mouth is really rather sweet when not spewing filth; 'tis shaped like a heart with full curves and--"