The Beautiful Stranger (8 page)

low-hanging limb of the hedgerow, then stepped away to have a look around.

The road was bordered by a thick copse of trees on one side and on the other, sloped down into a grassy clearing on the edge of a forest. Slowly, he turned full circle, searching the landscape for any evidence of life, realizing as he did that the satchel likely had fallen from a passing coach.

Bloody marvelous, he muttered, and walked back to the satchel, nudging it with his boot. Perhaps there was something inside that could help himalthough he had no earthly idea what. A map! A real map. He sank down on his haunches and opened the satchel.

A frilly white cotton garment sprang free. Ah, bloody hell, then. The satchel belonged to a woman, which meant hed find nothing of use to him. But he removed his glove nonetheless and with a snort of displeasure, plunged his hand deep inside, past more frilly garments and other things he paid no attention to until his fingers scraped the bottom of the bag. Nothing.

He was about to toss the damn thing aside in frustration when he heard the unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked.

Wasnt that just lovelynow he could add being robbed to the wonderful events of his day! He heard the rustle of clothing as the bounder moved toward him apparently on tiptoehe was certainly light on his feet.

That struck Arthur as odd; he rather supposed any self-respecting highwayman would keep a fair distance from his prey in the event such prey was determined to surprise him, as he was about to do.

What alternative did he have? He couldnt reach his gun before the highwayman could shoot him. No, unfortunately, what he had here was one of those unenviable situations where he would just have to spring on the rotter and hope for the best, for he was not in a mood to be robbed of all his possessions.

He waited, listening closely to the soft rustle until he could practically feel the bandit at his back. With a grunt, he suddenly whirled, springing to his feet and swinging his arm out at the very same moment the gun discharged, scorching through his flesh like fire and knocking him flat on his back.

It was several moments before Arthur could pick himself up and grope about his person to assess the damage. Fortunately, it seemed that the bullet had only grazed his arm, doing nothing more than ruining his very expensive riding coat and giving him a nasty flesh wound that stung like hell.

Nonetheless, it was about all Arthur Christian could endure of Scotland for one day.

He jerked around to where his assailant would be standingshould be standingand his mouth dropped open in astonishment. A woman of all things, fiat on her bum and furiously rubbing her elbow with a grimace that suggested she had struck the ground hard. The kick of the pistol obviously had knocked her down. Lying in the road as it was, Arthur could see whythe thing was positively ancient and loud enough to scare an advancing

Hellion.

Arthur whirled around to where he had tethered the horse and released a very colorful oath. The sorry horse had bolted, taking all his belongings with her. He was running before he realized it, racing down the road in the vain hope that she was only hiding in the woods, but it was obvious that the damn nag had

fled for the comfort of her stable in Perth. He stopped, gasping for breath, and pressed a hand to the stitch in his side. Damn it. Damn it! he bellowed, and pivoting sharply, stalked back to the scene of the crime, growing angrier with each step. He stopped just short of matching over the wench with the ancient gun and stood, legs apart, hands on hips, glaring at her sprawled on the road with her boots sticking out from beneath her skirts. She stared back at him with a deceptively wide-eyed look of innocence that made his pulse pound with fury. He took several deep breaths in a struggle to calm his rage, but it was impossible. What in the hell did you think you were doing? he shouted.

Something sparked in the womans eyesthey narrowed menacingly. Protecting my belongings, thats what!

she responded hotly. And what did you think you were doing, then?

Did it occur to you that you might simply announce that the bag was yours before firing on an unarmed man? he countered angrily, and leaned over, growling at her startled gasp when he caught her elbow and jerked her to her feet. She immediately wrenched her arm free of his hold and stumbled backward, glaring daggers at him as she carelessly adjusted her bonnet.

That was precisely the moment Arthur noticed she was wearing black. Black. Marvelous. He had been brought down by a widow! He groaned loudly and looked away.

You really shouldna paw through things that doona belong to you!

That unexpected admonishment was delivered with a bit too much superiority to suit Arthur, in spite of his assailants pleasingly soft burr. He turned slowly and raked a smoldering gaze across her as she shook the dirt from her skirts with such force that he half-expected them to tear clean of the gowns bodice. I was not robbing you, madam! Trust me, if I was of a mind to rob, it should be something a bit more enticing than a filthy, old red satchel!

She paused in the dusting of her skirt, met his angry glare, and raised it with a look of such fury that he felt a bit of a chill flit down his spine. If you didna intend to rob me, just what did you intend to do, then?

Pardon me, but it isnt often one encounters a satchel in the middle of a deserted road! I thought it might contain some sort of clue as to its owner or destination!

Her glower receded into a look of confusion; he could almost see the light of understanding dawn like a halo above her head. Oh, she muttered.

Oh, indeed. Releasing a sigh of great exasperation, Arthur watched her dust the dirt from her derriere and asked reluctantly, Youve not harmed yourself, have you? Nothing broken?

Not anything that shows, she said, eyeing him suspiciously with orbs that Arthur suddenly realized were the palest, crystalline blue he had ever seen. They were beautiful, the irises rimmed with a dark circle of gray and long, dark lashes

You are from Edinburra, then? she asked.

He blinked. I beg your pardon?

Edinburra. You must be from Edinburra, she said, nodding.

As if it wasnt perfectly obvious from whence he hailed. I am from England, he corrected her, and the little gasp and sudden flash of her brilliant smile caught him completely off guard.

I was once acquainted with a lass from England! she exclaimed as if they were being introduced over tea, and then just as suddenlybefore he could even respondher smile faded. Holy Mother, I shot you!

And the light above her bonnet grew even brighter. Why yes, I believe I mentioned that earlier, he drawled, following her gaze to his arm. Not a pretty sight, thatfrankly, he had forgotten it in his anger but seeing the blood that covered what was left of his coat sleeve, the pain of the torn flesh was suddenly quite vivid.

It must be bandaged. She moved so suddenly that Arthur took an involuntary step backward. Fetching her satchel in one fell swoop, she instantly rooted around inside and extracted a white cottony thing that Arthur could not quite identify. Youll remove your coat, will you? she said, and dropped the satchel to tear the white thing apart.

Oh no. He might have been shot by a widowed lunatic, but he really did not care to be doctored by her, too. Shaking his head, he stepped back, just beyond her reach as she advanced on him, her pale blue eyes now brimming with determination as she eyed his arm. Thank you, madam, but you have done quite enough as it is.

You are bleeding, she needlessly reminded him.

It is merely a flesh wound

Och, what foolishness. Kindly remove your coat.

I will be quite all right until we reach a village. Youd be a much greater help to me if you fetched your carriage. Where is it? he asked, glancing down the road. My carriage? She laughed. I doona have a carriage, sir!

Then your mount, or whatever the conveyance by which you are traveling today, he insisted testily.

My conveyance would be my feet.

Now she was being coy, that was all, and Arthur was in no mood for it. He leaned forward, scorching her with the fiercest scowl he could muster. Madam, I have had a rather long day of it. As you have managed to shoot me and chase my horse away, I should very much appreciate it if you would produce your mode of travel and let us be on with it!

You should have tethered your horse.

Arthurs head snapped back with surprise; he clenched his jaw and stared at her, wholly unaccustomed to being spoken to in such a careless manner. Oh yes, he would hand the wench over to the authorities in Perth with absolute glee. Perhaps I should have, he said smoothly. And perhaps you should have announced yourself instead of firing that rusty old pistol! Now where is your horse!

With the long strip of white cotton dangling from her fingers, the other arm akimbo, the womans pale blue eyes sparkled with feminine ire. Perhaps the shot ruined your hearing, eh? I doona have a horse! Or a carriage! I was waiting for the coach from Crieff when you paused in your little jaunt to rob me!

I did not Whatever he might have said died on his tongue, because he suddenly realized she was telling the truth. And if she was telling the truth, that meant they were stranded. Stranded! In the middle of a

bloody wilderness with dusk falling and a mist rolling in. Please God, what had he done to deserve this?

She realized it at exactly the same moment, he knew, because her eyes grew impossibly round and she murmured, Oh no, before clamping a hand over her mouth in dismay.

Oh yes, he said, and the absurdity of their predicament all at once struck him as ridiculously funny. If he hadnt known better, he would swear he was an actor in one of the halfpenny plays on Drury Lane. The laughter bubbled up in his chest, spilled out, and he was suddenly laughing so hard that tears blinded him as he struggled out of his coat. Still laughing, he thrust his arm out so that she could bandage it. Have done with it then!

Bloody wonderful this was. The stranger was insane as well as angry, Kerry thought. Aye, well, he had every right to be angryshe winced as she looked at the wound and motioned to it again. It should be cleaned first, she said, and inclined her head toward a small clearing.

Still chuckling, the stranger nodded. Kerry moved immediately, picking up her satchel and marching briskly. And she kept moving, past an old stone fence, practically sprinting to a stream she had discovered earlier in her haste to get away from the robber.

On the streams banks, she fell to her knees and took several deep breaths, completely unnerved by the experience of having just shot someone, particularly when said someone might very well be the worlds most beautiful stranger. Lord God, as if her life could possibly get any worse, this man had to ride into her life like a thief and scare her half out of her wits! How was she to know he was a gentleman? What could she possibly have thought when she saw him stride to her satchel and begin to rummage through it?

In her haste to hide when she heard him approaching, she had forgotten it. And then she had shot himshot him!

She plunged the strip of her cotton drawers into the cool water, then wrung the excess moisture from it.

All right, well, she had shot him because she feared for her life, thank you very much. Thomas had warned her about the highland thievesbut good God, he was hardly a thief! He was a gentleman from England, of all places, who had thought to find the owner of the satchel she had left lying in the middle of the road! Aye, but there was something odd about him, something a wee bit insane Kerry forced herself to her feet and turned. The beautiful stranger was sitting on what was left of the old fence, his hands braced against his knees, staring rather, his gaze was boring a hole right through her.

Making her knees tremble.

Trembling knees or no, she would bandage that wound before they parted company. It was the least she could do, having inflicted it. She willed her legs to move and walked toward him, feeling the intensity of his gaze trickle down her neck and spine. When she reached him, she avoided that pointed gaze altogether by dropping to her knees, setting her satchel aside, and peering closely at the wound. When she carefully probed it with her fingers, he flinched, sucked in his breath, gritted his teeth but kept staring at her with those hazel eyes.

Kerry abruptly sat back on her heels. Its naught more than a flesh wound.

His eyes narrowed. I gathered as much.

Kerry dabbed lightly at the wound with the wet cloth. It was an accident, she heard herself say. I didna intend to harm you, I promise you that. I I jumped when you jumped, you see, and for some reason it

just, ah ahem. Went off. She shot him a quick glance. Im really very sorry for it, truly. Mortified, if you must know. Ive never shot another being in all my life.

Thats somewhat reassuring, he remarked dryly.

Youve naught more to fear, she babbled on. I doona know how to load it. Oh honestly, what was she saying?

Her remark certainly gave him pausehe cocked his head to one side and looked at her as if she were the deranged one. I beg your pardon, madam, but do you often go traipsing about the wilderness with nothing more than an old gun you dont know how to fire, much less load? he asked incredulously, frowning slightly when she shook her head. Might I inquire then as to the reason you are here with that ridiculously old pistol?

I told you, she responded impatiently, I am waiting for the coach from Crieff. The Perth driver said it would be along directly.

His handsome face lit up at that. Aha! A rescue! How directly?

Well perhaps not directly, she quickly corrected him.

He frowned. Then when, exactly?

Kerry suddenly dipped her head, hiding beneath the rim of her bonnet as she fussed with the dry half of the white cotton. Noon, she muttered, and could almost sense the rise of his chest as it filled with steam.

Do you mean to tell me that you have been waiting alone here for a coach for more than six hours? That driver ought to be hanged for abandoning a defenseless woman!

I am not a defenseless woman! I have a gun!