Page 13 of Taken By the Dangerous Duke

Around halfway into her journey, she was startled by a loud clang, but it turned out to only be a cat. Still, she crouched behind a bush and waited just in case someone else was startled by the noise and came to investigate. When she made it to the large oak tree, she let out a sigh of relief. She had made it to the first stopping point in her journey, but the remainder was unknown.

Margaret looked up to the heavens above, offering up a silent prayer, and also checking the position of the moon. It had passed its zenith and was traveling toward the other side of the sky, toward morning. But, that was all relative. Who could really say the position of the moon?

Margaret jumped on the spot. From the shadows, a great lumbering beast came toward her. It was too tall to be a person, and it moved as if it were floating, coming toward her slowly. She let out a sigh of relief when she saw that it was Cynthia leading the horse down the lane.

A smile widened her lips. She moved quickly to her friend and hugged her too, happier than she had ever been to see her.

“What is going on?” whispered Cynthia. “An errand boy came to find me and told me he could only pass on the note to me and no one else. Why all this secrecy, Margaret? And are you really to be married?”

“Not if I can help it. I don’t have time to explain everything right now, but my father has found me a man, a cousin of his, and he is awful.”

“He is really that bad?”

“I would rather kill myself than marry that man, Cynthia. I need to leave this place and never come back. I never really had a family here. Well, I did have you, but I don’t have anyone else. I can’t believe you made it here with a horse.”

“Father won’t miss it. Probably not. And if he does, I can claim it ran away. Besides, it is rather fun to be sneaking around in the middle of the night. I thought I was going to be heard as I was sneaking around the house.”

“I almost was,” said Margaret.

There was a noise from the opposite direction, and Margaret looked at her friend with wide eyes.

“Probably nothing,” assured Cynthia. “But, go. Get out of here just in case.”

“You will be fine?” asked Margaret.

“I will. It is only a few minutes to the house. Now, go on before someone sees you.”

Margaret grabbed her friend, hugging another helper. One was an old friend and the other had felt like a new friend.

“I will write to you when I can,” whispered Margaret.

“Be safe,” Cynthia whispered back.

They let each other go, and Margaret quickly mounted the horse as Cynthia ran back the way she came, disappearing into the shadows. She had no idea where she was going, she only knew she had to head north. That would give her the greatest chance of escape. There was so much to the north, and the further she got from London, the better. Perhaps she would end up in Scotland.

Margaret got going, but not before she found the source of the noise. It was a ginger tabby cat, the same one that had caused the clatter earlier.

“You again,” whispered Margaret. “I shall bid goodbye to you also.”

She guided the horse down the road leading north through London, not daring to look behind as the beast trotted gently. She stuck to the dirt paths, quieter for the hooves of the horse. The sun had not yet risen on the horizon when she reached the edge of London.

Margaret finally dared to look back. Everything was shrouded in darkness. Even though she wanted to escape the life she had lived so far, she was sad to leave. This had been her home for twenty-one years, the only one she had ever known.

But, it was also a new start, and that was exciting. She turned back to the road ahead and spurred the horse on. Her eyes had become accustomed to the dark, and while it was too dark to see the path ahead, she could still see the road beneath the horse. And, she trusted that the animal could see better than she could.

She rode for an hour, perhaps two, her legs starting to burn when the sun started to rise. It was a magnificent sight. She had not visited the moors around London, and they would have been beautiful on their own, but with the pinkish hue of the coming day, they were magnificent.

Margaret slowed the horse as the sun continued to rise. When she looked back, there was no safety net anymore—London was gone. She had no idea where she was, only that she was somewhere north of London. A large birch tree sat to the side of the road, and it looked like a silver beacon.

Margaret stopped the horse by the tree, and she tethered it when she alighted. It was only now that she thought she should have brought an apple or something for the horse. She would also have to think about some water for both the horse and her.

She sat down on the ground, happy to rest herself in a different position than when she was on the horse. She pulled the bread out of her pack, hungry, and nibbled at it while the sun continued to rise in the sky. She was not sure how long she had been sitting there when she heard the soft mew.

“What are you doing here?” asked Margaret. Either the same cat from London had followed her or it was one that looked exactly like it. It stalked over to her and rubbed its side against her leg. She ran her hand along its back, and the cat decided to flop down onto the ground beside her and roll onto its back.

“Well, aren’t you adorable?” asked Margaret.

“I could say the same about you,” said the man.

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