A Daring Passion

“That’s the Knave, don’t lose him,” a voice growled in annoyance.

Raine never bothered to turn her head as she leaned low over the pommel and urged her mount to an even greater pace. She had already carefully plotted her exact route, and as she rounded a large corner she turned onto a hidden path without missing a beat.

Once she was certain that she was out of sight she slowed to a walk and urged her horse behind a tree. In just a few moments three horsemen thundered past as she breathed a sigh of relief.

If her pursuers were worth anything at all they would double back once they realized that they had lost their prey. By then, however, she intended to have disappeared into the darkness.

Slowly counting to one hundred, she urged her mare back onto the dirt track and made her way toward a nearby gate. She would circle around the village and then the vicarage before approaching the cottage from the back. The last thing she desired was to stumble into her pursuers if they decided to go in search of the magistrate.

She picked her way carefully through a small meadow and entered the heavy copse of trees. The moonlight thankfully kept her from knocking her head on a low-lying branch or breaking her poor mare’s leg in a rabbit hole.

By the time she reached the edge of the road her heart had slowed its frantic beat and her breathing had almost returned to normal. Oddly, however, her blood continued to rush through her with tingles of excitement.

She breathed deeply of the crisp night air and tilted back her head to study the near-full moon.

The danger had passed, and for the moment she could simply enjoy the feeling of being free.

And that was what she felt, she realized with a tiny flare of shock.

Away from the confines of the cramped cottage and the local tabbies that watched every maiden with the avid hope that they might create some delicious scandal, she could be herself. A woman who enjoyed midnight rides and the thrill of danger. A woman with the power to save her father from the gallows.

Life in a tiny village had always been a stifling existence for Raine. She possessed too much restless energy to easily submit to the rigid structures that confined her, but now that she had actually tasted such liberty it was nearly unbearable.

Dear Lord, she wanted to thunder down the nearby road and simply keep going.

Of course, the realistic part of her mind assured her that she was being ridiculous. Where would she go? How would she live?

Besides, no matter how far she fled it would not really change anything. She would still be a young woman without the means or the opportunity to break free of the chains that held her.

Blowing out a sigh, Raine shrugged off her strange mood and carefully studied the dark road. By now her pursuers should be back at the village, or even at the cottage warning the magistrate that the Knave had escaped their trap. All she had left to do was remain out of their sight for the next hour or so and then she could return to her chambers with no one the wiser.

Once she was certain she was alone, she urged her mare forward. She would not risk breaking her neck or her beloved mare’s leg by stumbling about in the woods.

She had traveled less than a mile when she noticed the unmistakable outlines of a carriage that had halted along

side the road ahead of her. With a frown she slowed as she studied the unexpected sight.

Oh, it was not uncommon for a carriage to have some difficulty or another. Such rough roads tended to lame horses, break wheels and even snap axles. The local inn made a fine living from those poor travelers who had been forced to stay the night while their conveyance was repaired.

As she watched, the driver walked around the carriage as if he were searching for what had caused the trouble. Beside him was a bent form that was heavily shrouded by a thick cape.

An elderly woman and her servant, Raine concluded, hesitating as she unconsciously chewed on her lower lip.

Wisdom demanded that she turn around and find a new path to take her toward her home. She could not possibly offer any help when she was dressed as a notorious highwayman. Besides, the elegance of the carriage and the perfectly matched team assured her that the woman possessed enough wealth to smooth whatever troubles might come her way.

On the point of turning off the road, Raine was suddenly struck by a most tempting notion.

She had come out tonight merely to convince the magistrate of her father’s innocence. She was to be a fleeting decoy, nothing more. Her father had been most emphatic on that point.

But now that she considered the matter, she realized that the poor widow would not find the coins she had expected to be hidden for her in the ditch. What if she were turned out into the cold if something were not done? What if she had nowhere to go, nothing to eat and no one to care that she was suffering?

Surely the elderly matron in the fancy carriage, who obviously possessed all the luxuries in life, should be encouraged to do her Christian duty and help another?

And shouldn’t the Knave of Knightsbridge be the one to encourage her?

Ignoring her tiny stab of guilt at the thought of terrifying the aging woman, Raine reached into her pocket to pull out her father’s dueling pistol. She had no intention of actually harming the woman, she reminded herself. And it would only take a few moments to collect her coins and pretty baubles.

With a press of her heels, she urged her mount forward, not halting until she was nearly upon the two strangers.