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Bristol was still shrouded in fog that softened the squalor and filth of the docks when they left the city behind. Once they hit the country road, morning dawned with a brilliant sun. It refracted off the dewdrops on lush green leaves, lending a freshness and sparkle to the landscape unfolding before them.

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“What did I tell you?” Trevor’s voice conveyed the pride he felt. “Just look out your windows. Isn’t it a gorgeous morning to be alive? Have you ever seen a more dazzling blue sky? Ah, and the air smells of fresh earth.”

Stormy rolled her eyes, while Annemarie hid her smile behind her gloved hand. She had never heard Trevor wax so poetic, but then this was his homeland. Even though he loved the Americas, you just never forgot the place where you grew up.

The hired carriage rumbled along rutted roads and through several copses of dense trees ever onward to Emerald Hills Manor, passing occasional herds of sheep or cows that dotted the landscape in a picture perfect idyll of country living.

Stormy stared her fill of the unfamiliar scenery. Engrossed, she blocked her side of the window completely, exclaiming ever so often at something unusual.

Trevor and Annemarie shared the opposite window, both seeing the passing panorama with less avid interest. Both were lost somewhat in their private thoughts, though every so often they shared a smile over Stormy’s enthusiasm.

At noon they stopped under the shade of a willow tree near a babbling brook and shared a basket of goodies they had brought from the ship.

“I sent a courier ahead to Emerald Hills to inform my brother Thomas that we are on our way,” Trevor remarked idly after they had eaten. “The road is a bit muddier than I expected, but then I had warned you that we wouldn’t make the trip in one day. But don’t worry, there are several inns along the way where we can spend the night.”

“I can hardly wait to meet my cousins. There are four of them, you say?”

Trevor grinned. “Just be prepared that they will stick together like glue and that you might well become the butt of their jokes at first. Thomas II and Brent are both older than you.

Annabelle is the youngest at fourteen and Elizabeth just married a few months ago. You’ll find out that being an only child does have its advantages, because you never had to share your private space.”

They bantered back and forth on the subject of cousins and barely noticed that the sun had begun to set. They had just entered another one of those copses, where the trees crowded out the overhead sky, when the carriage came to an abrupt halt. Trevor looked out the window, surprised to see how dark it was outside. His forehead creased into a frown.

“Let me see what the devil this is all about,” he mumbled crossly. He reached for the door handle to open it, when the door was ripped out of his hand. A dark clad, masked man crowded his horse into the open doorway and pointed a pistol at his heart.

A flicker of surprise chased across a pair of intense blue eyes when they surveyed the occupants. After a moment’s hesitation the bandit growled, “Hand over your valuables, gov’ner.” The voice was muffled by a black cloth that covered the bandit’s lower half of his face.

The rest of it was obscured by a black felt slouch hat. He waved his gun in Annemarie’s direction and then at Stormy. “If you don’t want any harm to come to the ladies, you had better do as I say. The coachman is already dead.”

Trevor’s nostrils flared with repressed fury. Why hadn’t he thought to draw his pistol before he even reached for the door handle? Fool! England was known for its highwaymen and cutthroats.

“Do as the man says, ladies,” he ordered tightly, wishing he were given the opportunity to fight back. But in view of Annemarie and Stormy’s safety he had no choice but to capitulate.

He reached for his pocket watch and the leather pouch that held almost a hundred pounds in coin.

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Angrily, he held both out to the highwayman, surprised, when he did not immediately take them. And then he knew why. The robber stared transfixed at Stormy, his eyes blazing with desire and something more Trevor could not identify.

He moved to block the robber’s view. “Take the damn money already and let us be on our way,” he gritted, forgetting his precarious position.

The man took the money and stowed it under his voluminous black cape. With a slight snarl, he shoved his pistol into Trevor’s gut. He was off his mount and nimbly climbed into the carriage. “Out of my way, gov’ner.” He beckoned with a gloved finger toward Stormy. “She comes with me to assure that you won’t try anything foolish.”

“You can’t do that.” Annemarie exploded from her seat like a champagne cork. “Take me instead.”

The highwayman looked her up and down and she could have sworn he smirked under his mask. “Tempting as you are, madam, it is her I want.”

He reached for Stormy who did not resist when his gloved hand closed around her wrist.

Never slackening his grip, the highwayman slammed the door shut. Dragging her with him to the front of the carriage, he slapped the lead horse of the four-in-hand team on the rump and bellowed for good measure to make sure they would move out at a fast clip.

At his short, shrill whistle a coal black stallion trotted up. With the fluid motion of an expert horseman, he mounted and in the same instance pulled Stormy up before him. He wheeled the huge horse around and galloped off in the opposite direction of the disappearing carriage.

Mesmerized, Stormy had followed without resistance. She did not even look back at her horror-stricken parents. She did not even protest, when she found herself clasped tightly against the massive chest of the stranger. He smelled of soap and horse and leather, not an unpleasant combination, and not at all what she would have expected from a highwayman. His heart beat a steady tattoo in her ear and she found the beat strangely comforting. Still in shock, Stormy simply clung to the silk of the man’s shirt, unable to muster the resolve to fight him. It mystified her, why she should feel perfectly content to allow this stranger to hold her close. Finally, she rallied some of her usual bravado and risked an upward peek at her abductor. Her breath caught, when she found him staring down at her with those disconcerting blue eyes. Something curled through her with the force of lightning; something totally unfamiliar, something shocking in a most delicious sense.

The masked man felt sure he’d lost his mind. What had possessed him to kidnap this girl and ride off with her? The moment he opened the door of the coach, he knew he’d been given incorrect information. He should have slammed the door and been done with it. For Christ’s sake, the hold-up had been nothing more than part of an elaborate scheme. Hell and damnation, nothing had gone right tonight. As soon as he got his hands on his informant, he would take him to task for giving him the wrong information. And why in the devil’s name did he rob the occupants, once he realized that he had stopped the wrong carriage?

Irked, he looked down into that pair of huge expressive eyes staring up at him at that precise moment, and he knew why he had taken her. He wanted her with all his being. But, damn it to hell, this brief, insane encounter could be all he could ever have. He could not impose his imperiled future on any woman.

What fancy was he indulging in? He would release her shortly back into the hands of her parents. And even if fate would ever bring them together again, which he knew would be highly unlikely, he could never let on that they had met.

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He felt himself growing hard as he savored her nearness, the softness of her and the earthy smell of wild flowers and innocence. Without thinking, he raised the bandanna covering the lower part of his face and captured her mouth in a tender kiss.

Stormy gasped when he bent to kiss her. She saw it coming, and she knew she should turn her head. But the mouth swooping down on hers had a chiseled beauty that entranced her to impassivity. Resigned, she closed her eyes and offered her lips without hesitation.

The instant his lips closed over hers, warm and caressing, her heart started to dance in an unfamiliar rhythm. Never considering the consequences she gave herself up to sensations that clouded her reason, sensations that were strange, but oh so wonderful.

Her lips were as pliable as he’d anticipated--petal soft, and she tasted of honey and wholesomeness. But even as he kissed her, he could not fully savor the sensation, because inbred propriety reared its ugly head and chided him.

Bloody hell, why had he ever given in to the urge to kiss her? He was a grown man and he had a mission to complete. He should know better. She on the other hand was barely past her childhood. Damn, she could be betrothed. He swept that thought aside as quickly as it arose, because it simply didn’t sit well with him.

His heart squeezed with regret, when he decided that he would have to break off this kiss and return her to her parents. He had no choice. This whole escapade had been folly. At any rate it would take a hard hour’s ride and some careful maneuvering to set her free without getting caught.

The only thing that had gone right in this comedy of errors had been his deal with the coachman. When he had jumped from the tree onto the bench, he’d caught the coachman off guard. The resolve in his steely blue eyes and the muzzle of his pistol quickly convinced the man that it was smarter to accept the offered bribe and play along. Of course, he’d hit him hard enough to make the story believable.

With a groan of self-loathing he broke off the kiss he wished would never have to end.

He felt tempted to ask the girl her name and where she was headed, but the less he knew about her, the better. She would haunt his dreams for the rest of his life, but there really could not be any other solution.

Calling himself several kinds of fool, he wrapped his voluminous cloak around her to keep her secure and warm against the quickly encroaching night dampness. Aware that the coach could only have gone straight ahead, or they would have met up with it again, he rode like a man possessed toward the next village. By the time he arrived at the only inn there, night had fallen in earnest. As he rode past the building, he saw that the coach and the team of four had been stabled for the night.

He slowed only long enough to make sure that the man and woman huddled near the fireplace were the same as the ones in the carriage.

They were the only patrons in the commons room, looking forlorn and miserable. If he even fostered a passing doubt about their relationship, their misery alone would have attested to the fact that they were the girl’s parents.

Angrily, he dismissed his worries. What did it matter? He would never see the girl again.

He rode the stallion another half mile past the inn and reined him in under a sprawling larch tree. Without a word he dismounted and lifted Stormy down. The desire to kiss her one last time almost overwhelmed his good intentions. His heart hammered in his chest in protest, STORMY HEIDE KATROS

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but despite the temptation he held her at arm’s length, his eyes dark with turmoil. With an inward groan he propelled her around to face the opposite direction.

“Run, little one, before I change my mind,” he rasped darkly and gave her a gentle shove.

The words washed over her like a warm breeze. For an instant Stormy felt the insane desire to stand on tiptoe and kiss the stranger one last time. She dug in her heels and gnawed on her lower lip, trying desperately to prolong their parting. Luckily, the gentle shove he gave her in the direction of the inn broke the spell.

Picking up her skirts, she started to run. She dared not look back, glad to have gotten away from her abductor. So why was she sobbing uncontrollably? She wanted to attribute her misery to a case of nerves, but in the back of her mind she knew better. There had been a connection between her and the highwayman that went beyond reason. She hadn’t wanted to let him go. It was madness, she knew, but she couldn’t help herself.

When she reached the entrance to the inn, she paused and shook herself. It wouldn’t do to walk into the common room bawling like a child. It would only alarm her parents and they would be already worried sick. They would think the worst, when in truth nothing had happened. No, she could not dismiss that brief encounter as nothing, but she would never think of that enchanting kiss again. She would not allow it to affect her life.

With an impatient swipe, she dashed the last traces of her tears from her face. A reassuring smile pasted firmly on her lips, she opened the door and stepped inside.

The highwayman followed her progress, hugging the shadows, wanting to make sure she got safely to the inn. A strange ache tugged at his heart, when he noticed the way she straightened her slim shoulders, before she opened the door and walked into the inn. Yet, she displayed such innocence, when she swiped at her tears. She certainly seemed to be a study of contradiction; beautiful, yet courageous, but still so much the child in her.

His eyes glowed with silent admiration, even as his generous mouth edged up in a wry smile. She would lead a suitor a merry chase. A chuckle never made it past his lips and his mood changed abruptly, because he knew he would not be the lucky guy.

He melded further into the shadows. She was safe. It took him several long moments, before he found the strength to walk away. Striding purposefully toward the larch tree, he whistled for his horse. The black stallion trotted to his side, and with a soft neigh he nudged his arm.

The highwayman smiled beneath his concealing mask. “You always seem to gauge my feelings, old boy.” He vaulted effortlessly into the saddle and with a last, wistful look at the inn he wheeled his mount around and disappeared into the night.

Trevor and Annemarie shot from their seats and hastened to meet their daughter.