Unlacing the Innocent Miss by Margaret McPhee

Author:Margaret McPhee [McPhee, Margaret]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Historical Romance
ISBN: 9781426874963
Google: FoDA7KLgdkUC
Amazon: 0263216268
Barnesnoble: 0263216268
Goodreads: 9294229
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2010-10-31T11:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

Rosalind was trudging along the road after Kempster. The dawn was grey and dismal, with a coolness in the air.

‘Not much longer now,’ Kempster said.

Rosalind nodded. Their hurried walk through the darkness of the night had ruptured the blisters again on her feet. The sole on one of her boots had finally worn right through, and her stocking and binding was damp from the dew on the grass. Her head was pounding, her throat and top of her chest were aching, and her eyes felt red-raw. Yet she knew that it was imperative that they push on to put a big enough distance between themselves and Wolf.

Wolf. Just his name sent a tremor through her. She knew that he must have discovered their absence by now and she could only guess at the level of his anger. He would come after them—she had no doubt of that—enraged and ruthless and determined to find them.

She thought of him carrying the little beggar boy from the burning stables, of his gentleness as he had tried to rouse the boy. Come on, lad. Speak to me. She thought of him walking those long miles by her side. One thought led to another, and she was reliving the touch of his lips against hers, the tenderness of his kiss. Will you not trust me? he had asked. She closed her eyes to block out the memories. He was being paid by Evedon to catch her. He was a common rogue, a man filled with anger and bitterness whom she had known but a few days. It was only sense not to trust him. It was the right thing to run from him, to take her chance of escape.

She knew all of these things, had told herself them again and again during her long march through the night. She was doing the right thing. So why did it feel so wrong? She seemed to hear the whisper of his words again: Will you not trust me? Rosalind had not trusted him. Instead she had accepted Kempster’s offer of help, choosing to trust the footman, who had taken such delight in frightening her, rather than Wolf. And her heart was heavy with the knowledge.

Rosalind forced herself on with a determination that she had not known she possessed. Wolf would take her back to Evedon. The little boy’s near death in the fire, and exhaustion were making her thoughts foolish. She resolved to think no more, and beneath the layers of her clothes, the press of the letter against her skin reminded her that Evedon would show no mercy. Rosalind kept on walking.

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