Silken Tiger: A Journeys of the Heart Romance by Rebecca Ward

Author:Rebecca Ward [Ward, Rebecca]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Publisher: White Glove
Published: 2014-02-04T05:00:00+00:00

• • Eleven • •

WITHOUT WAITING TO see whether or not his daughter was following, Sir Edward galloped his horse over the rise. Suddenly he gave a cry of dismay. Early sunlight flashed against muskets and steel bayonets as a squadron of mounted riders rode toward the Ashlands.

“We’ve ridden into a trap!” Sir Edward shouted. “We’ve got to turn back—”

“Halt where you are!”

The command had been given in English. “They’re soldiers from Sri Nevi!” Merial exclaimed.

Sir Edward spurred forward, waving his hand wildly and yelling, “I’m an Englishman. Don’t shoot. I’m English!”

The leader of the approaching soldiers called an order, and two men broke rank. One galloped up to meet Sir Edward while the other cantered up the hillock to where Merial waited.

“My God,” he exclaimed, “it’s a woman!” He saluted smartly, adding, “Lieutenant Denning, marm. At your service.”

Merial could only nod numbly.

“Sir Edward Ashland!” the leader of the English troops was now shouting. “Gad, sir, we thought you were dead. We met years ago—Colonel Malcolm, commander of the Sri Nevi garrison, at your service. We heard that you’d been taken prisoner by that blackguard, the Tiger.”

Sir Edward drew himself erect. Though pale from fatigue and dressed in pitiful rags, he was once again the haughty English aristocrat.

“Colonel, my daughter and I have been subjected to unspeakable treatment in Baranpur. It’s with difficulty that we have escaped with our lives.”

Colonel Malcolm looked incredulous. “You were the Tiger’s prisoners and lived to tell of it?”

Again, Sir Edward began his account, but the colonel interrupted reluctantly. “I beg your pardon, but we can’t stop. We’ve got some Afghan raiders to deal with—they come regularly over the border, and these bas—er, these fellows have been giving us the slip for several months.”

“I must tell you something of gravest importance first,” Sir Edward protested.

But the colonel was no longer listening. “Lieutenant Denning, escort Sir Edward and his daughter to Sri Nevi,” he commanded. “Take four men with you as escort.”

The young officer who’d ridden up to Merial saluted again and said, “If you’ll follow me, marm?”

Sir Edward was still trying to get the colonel’s attention when Merial came up to him. “It’s not only Afghans you have to fear,” he was crying. Then, as the troops rode heedlessly on, he exclaimed, “I’ve got to ride after him, Merial—tell him that the Tiger’s nearby!”

“No.” The vehemence of the word surprised them both. “He saved our lives. We owe him our silence at least.”

“We owe him nothing!” Sir Edward exploded. “He’s a murdering savage.”

Merial thought of Rayn’s face as she’d last seen it. She said, “If he hadn’t stayed behind to fight the Afghans, we might well be dead by now.”

Sir Edward looked more cheerful at the thought. “Hopefully, they’ve killed him. Twenty to two is pretty steep odds.”

Lieutenant Denning now approached to suggest that they ride on. “It’s not safe so close to the Baranpur border,” he explained. “We should start for Sri Nevi at once.”

He eyed Merial as he spoke, and she could almost read his thoughts.

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