The Highwayman by Madeline Harper

Author:Madeline Harper [Harper, Madeline]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2012-02-03T00:35:09+00:00

6

A FULL MOON CAST its silver sheen along the twisting, winding road. Prom his carefully chosen position among the shadow of the trees, the rider watched.

He liked the inky darkness of night with only the moonlight as his guide. It heightened his sense of recklessness and danger. And yet there was something aesthetic about it, too, with the scents of summer carried upon the soft breeze.

His horse stamped nervously, shaking his great head and whinnying softly. The rider bent low and ran his hand gently along his mount's neck. "I hear it, too, old fellow." It was the sound of a carriage approaching, a team of horses, their hooves pounding the earth, their traces rattling and clanking.

He pulled down a black hood with slits for his eyes and mouth. It completely concealed his identity and gave him the spectral look of something otherworldly. He knew that, and it amused him immensely, even now, only moments before the deed was to be done.

The thrum of hooves along the hard-packed road stopped him in his musings and caused his heartbeat to accelerate. It was almost time. Excitement built, slowly, and then more rapidly until it raced through him with the fire of heady French brandy.

"May the gods of good fortune ride with me this night," he whispered into the wind.

Then he dug his heels into his stallion's flanks, and with a bound the great steed was off and running, out of the trees, down the hillside toward the road. He leaned forward in the saddle, low over his mount's neck, and his great cloak blew behind him like a dark cloud.

Too late, the coachman saw the black figure approaching. Frantically, he whipped his team and shouted at them to move faster, but the Highwayman gained, yard by yard. Within moments, the chase was ended.

Liv AND CAROLINE walked along a gravel path overlooking the gardens, carrying damask-covered pillows. Along the way, a bubbly Caroline pointed out her favorite flower.

"Just look, Olivia, how unusual, like little hearts in a bell. And the vivid colors! Have you ever seen anything like it?"

"Yes, it's my favorite," Liv said.

"Where do you know it from?"

"Oh, those have been my favorite flowers since I was a child."

"That is impossible," Caroline declared, clutching Liv's hand. "They are new flowers, only recently brought into the parish."

"Well, I'm not from here, you see," Liv explained. She'd told Caroline nothing of her background, and although the young woman must have wondered about her strange accent, she'd asked no questions of her lady's maid. To do so, Liv suspected, would have been considered unseemly.

"Even so, you could not have known about that flower as a child because it has only come to the country in recent years." She laughed infectiously. "Perhaps you dreamed it."

"Perhaps so," Liv agreed, not anxious to get into the details of her background with Caroline, as she'd done on numerous occasions with the young woman's brother.

They followed the path to a partially shaded hillock and put their pillows on a

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