He frowned down at her, tapping his riding crop ag
ainst his boot, and patted Barker’s neck when he shied a bit. “No, don’t try to run away from me, Mary Rose. Don’t be afraid. I just want to talk to you.”
“How is your mother?” Mary Rose asked.
He frowned, hit his riding crop again against his boot. “She is as she always is. I don’t want to talk about my mother, Mary Rose.”
“Do you think the new baron will have a party?”
“I don’t care about the bloody new baron. I want to talk to you.” But he only looked at her, didn’t say a thing. Before she could draw another breath, he’d grabbed her, pulled her tightly against him, and kissed her—her ear, her cheek, then grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her head back so he could have her mouth. She struggled, but it didn’t matter. Erickson was much larger than she, and he was holding her much too tightly. She finally managed to stomp hard on his right foot. She felt his jerk of pain, but then his mouth was on hers again, and he was trying to thrust his tongue between her lips. “No,” she said, and then his tongue was inside. She bit him hard.
His head jerked up and he cursed, then shook her. “Why did you do that? Damn you, why?”
His hold loosened, and she managed to jerk free of him. She didn’t pause an instant, just raised her skirts above her knees and ran as fast as she could. She heard him mount his horse, knew he could ride her down in just seconds. No choice. She ran back into the forest, deeper and deeper, zigzagging left to right, then into the heaviest undergrowth to where his horse would have to pick his way very slowly. She heard Erickson cursing, felt his anger thicken the very air around her. She paused, breathing hard, a stitch in her side. She was safe. At least until the next time.
She lowered her head in her hands. She didn’t cry, there was no purpose to it. Tears did nothing except make her eyes itch and her nose red. She waited, then waited some more. She finally walked due east, knowing that if Erickson MacPhail wanted to wait for her, he would be there, between the forest and Kildrummy Castle. There was a stretch of two hundred yards, ancient barren land cluttered with boulders and strewn with sharp-edged rocks, and farther on, the land had been gouged out by some clawing primeval fingers, leaving gashing crevices in the earth, some of them quite deep. On horseback, he would have to take care. He wouldn’t be able to catch her easily.
She drew in her breath when she reached the end of the trees, looked toward Kildrummy Castle. She didn’t see Erickson MacPhail. She drew a deep breath, picked up her skirts again, and ran as fast as she could.
When she heard hoofbeats just off to her right, she turned quickly to see how close he was. She tripped over a clump of black rocks and went flying into one of the narrow crevices that scored the earth.
5
TYSEN JUMPED OFF Big Fellow’s back and ran to the girl who was lying half in and half out of a narrow, jagged cut in the hard earth. He saw that she wasn’t unconscious from her wild fall, as he’d feared. She was lying on her stomach, breathing hard, not moving. Finally she pressed herself up on her hands and looked at him.
“You’re the new baron,” she said, her voice filled with relief. She took a deep, shuddering breath, then said more calmly, “I watched you ride away. Why did you come back? Not that it matters, but I am very grateful that you did, sir.”
Tysen cocked his head to one side as he came down on his haunches beside her. “I came back because I realized that I wanted my daughter with me. I left her because I wished her to understand that I am still distressed with her, but I am her father and I love her dearly and can no longer hold out. I wanted her to see the village with me, meet the villagers who bought our extra eggs, smell the fish, meet the fishermen.” He appeared surprised that he’d spoken at such length, but then he just shook his head and smiled. “Let me help you. Do you think you are hurt?”
“I don’t know yet. Let me just lie here a few more minutes. What did she do to distress you?”
“She dressed as a boy and rode behind my carriage as my tiger all the way from southern England to Edinburgh.”
“Oh, my, what a grand adventure! I would never have had enough courage to do that. How old is she?”
“Only ten.”
“She’s a very brave girl.”
“What she is, is too young and foolish, and ignorant as a clod of dirt,” Tysen said. It occurred to him that he was speaking about family matters to an unknown female lying half in a ditch. It both surprised him and appalled him. At the very least, it was very unlike him to spill his innards to a stranger. And here he was, chatting with her, smiling even. It wasn’t like him at all. He said, “I believe I should get you out of that hole in the ground now. Do you know now if you’re hurt anywhere?”
“Maybe, I still don’t know for sure.”
“I will go as easily as I can.” Tysen reached out to clasp her under her arms. To his astonishment, she tried to scoot away from him. She moaned and grabbed her left ankle.
Tysen found himself again surprised. He cocked his head at her, making absolutely no move to touch her. “Are you trying to hurt yourself more? What is wrong with you? I don’t believe this—you’re afraid of me, aren’t you?”
“I don’t know,” Mary Rose said slowly, looking up at him.
“You don’t know what? If you’re afraid of me?”
“Yes, that’s it. I don’t know you. I think you are probably too handsome for your own good. It must be difficult to be a good person looking the way you do. You’re a baron now, too. Perhaps that gives you all the permission you need to be wicked.”
Tysen said, all stiff and formal, “My brother is an earl. He isn’t wicked. Well, he is, but not in the way you mean.”
“You mean to say that your brother would rescue a lass in distress and would not attempt to take advantage of her?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what I mean,” Tysen said. “His name is Douglas and he is a fine man.”