Page 32 of His Betrothed
“No.”
“Give me your hand,” he repeated firmly.
“The poor horse will—”
“Roselyn!”
He reached for her, and with a sigh she clasped his hand and put her foot in the stirrup. She didn’t realize until she was straddling the saddlethat he meant her to sit before him. She was pinned between the pommel and his body, and she watched in growing worry as he placed his arms around her to reach for the reins.
“I can guide the horse,” she said swiftly.
He didn’t answer.
“You can’t even use your right foot.” She was mortified to hear her voice rising.
“I’ll make do.”
His voice rumbled with amusement, and to her surprise shecould feel it against her back. She had been resting against him, and she straightened so fast he chuckled.
Thornton guided the mare away from the cottage.
“You’re heading for the village, not the shore. You were barely conscious the last time you came this way.”
“Very well,” he said, allowing her to take the reins.
That ended up making matters worse—he rested his hands on her waist. Shecould feel the heat of him through her clothes.
“Please let go of me.”
He spoke softly into her ear. “I’m feeling dizzy. You wouldn’t want me to fall.”
She hated his sarcasm, his superiority, especially the way he enjoyed tormenting her. It only made her more aware that he was not a gentleman. She had to distract herself—and him.
“Earlier you said this soldier would be going to hell, but perhapshe was just doing his duty. Surely you have followed orders as well.”
If she hoped for any truths from him, she was disappointed.
“There is no excuse for abusing a woman. That is proof of what kind of villain he is.”
Didn’t he realize that although he had never physically harmed her, he had abused her just the same during their betrothal? Didn’t he know that his treatment of her now was inmany ways worse?
As they neared the cliffs, they could hear the pounding of surf on the rocky shoreline below them. Though Roselyn was keeping her back straight, she still felt Thornton’s thighs pressed to the length of hers. His hands tensed at herwaist and she knew it must look as if they were riding over the edge, but even in the darkness Angel knew her way. As they began the descent to thebeach, she heard Thornton release his breath.
There was almost no moon this night, and the water seemed an endless black.
“Do you see a ship?” she whispered, looking over her shoulder at him.
He shook his head, but he still looked intent, worried.
“Do you think the Spaniard arrived the same night you did?”
“Probably, and it took him this long to find me. Perhaps he has a boat hidden on theshoreline nearby, or he was going to steal one. I think we’re safe for the moment.”
Nothing seemed real to Roselyn, as they rode into the dark water until the waves soaked their legs. She clutched the pommel as Thornton untied the Spaniard’s body and pushed it off the horse. She flinched at the splash, and didn’t protest when he took the reins and guided Angel back onto the beach.
“Someone willfind the body in the morning,” she said, shivering.
“Perhaps not. The tide could drag him farther out. But if he is found, well, he was just another casualty of the war.”
