His boot soles skidded on the buried roots, and he fell.
Felicia fell on top of him. One of her elbows drove deep into his midsection, her knee came down between his legs, and he gasped and hawed.
Then his hands were desperately pushing her up and off him.
She grabbed up her skirts, scrambled to her feet, and fled.
Back up the incline, back onto the flat, then she was racing along the path toward the Hall.
Behind, she heard a furious, if gasping, bellow, and then, far too soon, Mayhew was pounding after her.
Desperately clutching her skirts high, she raced across a clearing and on along the path. Her lead over Mayhew wasn’t enough. After struggling with him for so long, her strength was gone; she was already flagging. He would catch her before she could break free of the woods.
Was there anywhere she could hide?
She frantically searched her memories, but couldn’t think of any place safe enough.
A stitch in her side jabbed painfully. Panting, she flung herself across another clearing and raced blindly into the next bend—and ran headlong into Rand.
He staggered under the impact, but his hands clapped about her shoulders, and he caught her. Held her.
“Thank God! Are you all right?” Relief nearly drove Rand to his knees. Inanely, he blurted out, “I thought I’d lost you.”
Felicia was gasping, swaying between his hands. She shook her head. One hand at her breast, she managed to gasp, “Mayhew.” She swung and pointed. “He’s coming.”
Their collision had pushed her back around the bend. Rand looked in the direction she pointed—across the clearing she’d just traversed—as Mayhew skidded to a halt on the far side.
For a second, Mayhew stared at them—at Rand. Mayhew’s expression blanked. Then he turned and fl
ed.
Rand tensed to give chase, but he glanced at Felicia, and his feet didn’t move.
He thought he’d lost her, but she’d found him—she’d fought and striven to run back to him—and he had her beside him again.
He wasn’t going to—couldn’t make himself—quit her side.
Not again.
Not so soon.
She stared at him, then, as if understanding his dilemma, she slipped one hand into his.
He gripped her fingers tightly—and she gripped back—then she turned and tugged. “Come on. Let’s at least see where he goes.”
She ran as best she could, gamely pushing on, and he held himself back to keep pace with her.
She warned him about the tricky incline. At the bottom of the descent, she pointed to where the carpet of leaves was scuffed. “That’s where I managed to make him fall and broke free.”
They continued on as the path narrowed, and the trees closed in.
Then from some way ahead of them, they heard the muted rattle of wheels and the quick clop of a horse’s hooves.
Felicia slowed, then halted. She sighed. “He’s got away.”
Rand halted beside her. He looked at her, felt her fingers warm and real beneath his. Then he tightened his grip and pulled her into his arms.
Crushing her close, he bent his head and kissed her.