He boosted her up and Heloise swung her leg over the saddle. She’d ridden astride as a child, but had endured the more ladylike sidesaddle since she’d turned sixteen.
Raven mounted his own horse with a fluid movement and steered the animal down the street. It wasn’t long before they’d ridden out of the city altogether, heading toward a range of distant hills. Heloise glared at the forbidding peaks and her spirits sank. There didn’t appear to be much in the way of human habitation up ahead.
“Wherearewe going?”
Raven squinted at the horizon. “León. It’s about fifty miles. We should be there by tomorrow, I expect.”
“Tomorrow!”
He smiled at her dismay and Heloise glared at his back as he galloped ahead. He’d donned a rough black waistcoat over his white linen shirt, but it wasn’t long enough to conceal the pair of pistols he’d tucked into his waistband or the knife in a leather holster he’d attached to his belt. A tremor of apprehension ran through her. Surely those were just a precaution?
She shook off the worry as she studied her surroundings. There were flowers she didn’t recognize, trees she couldn’t name. Rabbits scampered out of their path and a few nimble-footed goats scattered into the hills at their approach.
After an hour or so the cultivated land petered out and the path began to climb as they headed into the foothills. Villages became more distant as the sun grew hotter. Heloise prayed they’d stop for a rest. The dust was harsh in the back of her throat and her eyes watered with the sun, despite her ridiculous hat.
At the crest of a hill they discovered a burnt-out village and Heloise frowned at the cluster of weathered, rudimentary crosses that lined the side of the road.
Raven caught her troubled gaze. “This area saw intense fighting at the end of the war. The French used the Ancient tactic of chevauchée, where the retreating army burns the crops behind them. It’s effective, but it punishes the locals as much as the enemy. It’s no wonder the Spanish fought so fiercely alongside us to expel them.”
Heloise shuddered. Peace might have been declared six months ago, but the scars left on the landscape would clearly take far longer to heal. A dark bird flew up from the carcass of a dead animal and she eyed it with distaste. She’d never been able to tell the difference between rooks, ravens, and crows. They all had sharp claws, intelligent eyes, and glossy black plumage. Just like her companion.
“You’re well named, you know,” she said. “Are you aware of the collective noun for a group of ravens?”
“The collective noun?” He mocked her prim schoolteacher tone.
“The word for a group of them together,” she explained patiently. The idiot was feigning ignorance just to amuse himself. “You know, like a parliament of crows. A gaggle of geese. A covey of quails.”
Raven shook his head. “I’m sure you’re about to enlighten me.”
“There are two, actually. An unkindness of ravens and a conspiracy of ravens.”
His lips curved upward. “Such flattery.”
Heloise fell into a dreamlike reverie as they plodded along. Her body had developed a mass of aches and pains, but she’d be damned if she’d ask to stop. They’d passed a few secluded cottages and a shepherd’s hut a while ago, but now there was little more than scrubby brush, lizards, and dry rocks. Heloise slapped her thigh with the palm of her hand and a cloud of red dust billowed out.
Raven reined in so he was alongside her. “You’re very quiet. Are you sulking?”
“No.”
He leaned over and flicked the brim of her hat.
She swatted him away. “I’m not here for your amusement, Ravenwood. I didn’t foist myself upon you. You can’t complain if you don’t like my company.”
“I didn’t ask for this, either, you know. I’d much rather be back at home.”
“My apologies for interrupting your nonstop round of gambling, whoring, and debauchery,” she said with razor-edged politeness.
“You’re still as annoying as you were when you were ten,” he sighed.
She sent him a smug smile. “My brothers call it quietly stubborn.”
He muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “pain in the arse.” Silence ensued for another mile or so.
It wassohot. Heloise wriggled in the saddle to relieve her aching backside and an unladylike bead of sweat trickled between her breasts. There was nothing for it. She was going to have to beg.
“I need to stop. I can’t feel my legs.”
Raven glanced back over his shoulder and shot her a cheeky grin. “Want me to feel them for you?”