Page 9
But today, he seemed in an uncommonly benevolent mood, which made her suspicious.
“What brings ye to town so early?” she asked, hoping to steer his hot, acute gaze from her legs. The clock hadn’t chimed a quarter past eight when she’d galloped Pandora from Eytone Hall’s stables.
The mare shook her head and backstepped, but Kendra brought her back under control.
Something inscrutable flitted across his face before he shifted his attention to a point somewhere beyond her shoulder. “I had correspondences that required postin’.”
A servant might’ve completed the task, but so might a footman have collected Mother’s wool skeins. Likely, Broden was as eager to seek the outdoors and take advantage of the break in the weather as she’d been.
In that way, they were alike. Both craved the outdoors and loathed being confined and cooped up inside. In the Highlands, one took the opportunity to partake of fresh air when it presented itself during the winter months. Such comfortable days were few and far between.
“Well, I’d best be on my way. I wouldna want my mother to fret if I’m away longer than she expects. Good day to ye, Mr. McGregor.” With a polite dip of her chin, she urged Pandora around him.
“Mr. McGregor?” He chuckled at the formality, and at once, ire stiffened her back.
The infuriating man was forever laughing at her. Since she was a young girl trailing after him, Liam, and Quinn, he’d teased her, mocked her, and gone out of his way to be a royal pain in the arse.
Not cruel or vicious. Except for that single time Kendra had overheard him.
What if…? What if that hadn’t been the only time he’d disparaged her? Could he have voiced his negative opinions regularly? And if so, why hadn’t Liam done anything about it?
The thought made her hot and cold at once and utterly mortified. And angry. Blood-scorching angry.
No longer was she an insecure, self-conscious child, worshiping the very ground he trod upon. The blustery wind carried her patience away as easily as thistledown, and she swung around to give him a proper set down.
Her breath stalled and cramped in her lungs as shock rendered her speechless. Jaw slack, she stared horrified into the trees, momentarily unable to move or speak.
Nae. Nae. Nae!
There amongst the fluctuating shadows, partially concealed by the trees’ roughened trunks, sat a man astride a horse. His lower face covered with a grungy handkerchief, he aimed a pistol straight at Broden.
Dear God!
That was why Pandora had been edgy. She’d sensed his presence. Probably had smelled the other horse. And like an idiot, Kendra had disregarded her intuition and the horse’s warnings.
Shaking loose the icy paralysis crippling her, Kendra jabbed a finger toward the gunman, screaming, “Broden, he has a—”
The explosion boomed through the chilly air.
Birds took to wing in a frantic flurry.
Rearing onto her hind legs, Pandora neighed in terror.
The echo of pounding hoofbeats filtered through the ringing in Kendra’s ears as she battled to stay atop the frightened horse.
The poltroon had made good his escape.
Blackguard. Fiend. Bloody coward.
Heart pounding louder than a battering ram against a keep’s door, Kendra fought to bring the mare under control. After several tense seconds, she succeeded and reined Pandora swiftly toward Broden.
Cold sweat pooled under her arms, terror yet clawing at her mind and throat.
He sat, slightly hunched over, but still in the saddle, thank God.
She’d never have been able to lift him back atop his horse. She swallowed the acerbic bile burning her throat and attempted to ignore the flurry of a thousand wings beating hysterically at her belly and behind her ribs.
Oh, God.
