Run Wild (Escape with a Scoundrel)

chapter 20




Free. Sam could hardly believe it. She stared at the chain, lying harmless on the ground, gleaming dully in the bright morning sunlight. Already Ramon was working on the cuff around Nick’s ankle.

Free. The moment they had been waiting for, working for since that first morning in gaol, when fat Bickford had laughed as they were linked inseparably together. Had it been only a matter of days? It seemed like a lifetime.

But instead of bringing relief or happiness, freedom brought... numbness. It didn’t feel as if she had just been relieved of a burden.

It felt as if she had just lost some part of herself. Some vital, important part.

She released a long, shuddery exhalation, realizing she had been holding her breath. Bending down, she rubbed at her sore, bruised, reddened ankle, chastising herself for such outlandish thoughts.

The shackles had brought her only pain. And a mark that looked like it might be a permanent scar. To mourn their loss was foolish—and she had been a fool too often of late. No more, she vowed.

She would waste no more time on emotions that only brought hurt.

“Which horses?” she asked the blacksmith.

“Eh, senorita? What’s that?” Ramon was still crouched on the ground beside Nick. With a second sharp blow of his chisel, they were both released from the shackles. Both free.

“We just paid you two hundred for a pair of horses.” She pointed toward the line of mounts picketed a few yards beyond his wagon. “Which ones are ours?”

“Ah, sim. The two bay geldings on this end.” Rising, he gestured with the chisel. “They are mine. I hate to see them go.”

“With two hundred pounds,” Nick commented dryly, “you’ll be able to buy yourself a whole herd.”

“True. True, I will,” the smithy conceded with a broad grin.

“How much for saddles and tack?” Nick asked in that same cynical tone.

“Ami, you mentioned some extra when the job was done, no?” Ramon held out his palm. “I would say... another hundred will cover the rest. I have no saddles, but their cabedals, their halters are there.” He indicated some leather harnesses draped over the traces at the front of the wagon.

Nick opened his coin purse again. Sam didn’t waste another minute watching the transaction. She walked over to pick up a bridle—and almost stumbled. Moving freely felt so odd, unfamiliar.

She hadn’t realized how much she had gotten used to the heavy restriction of the shackles, to matching her stride to Nick’s. Without the cuff, her ankle felt strangely light, her steps almost weightless. Unnerved by the awkward sensation, she tried to ignore it, grabbing a bridle and heading for the horses.

“Wait.”

She heard Nick’s imperious command behind her and ignored it as well. She didn’t have to take his orders. Not anymore.

Reaching the bays, she chose the smaller of the two. They were draft horses, meant for pulling wagons, not carrying ladies. It took her a few minutes to figure out which part of the halter was meant for the animal’s mouth. She had often gone riding as a girl, but there had always been a groom to handle this sort of thing.

“You’re doing that wrong,” Nick said.

She glanced over her shoulder to see him walking toward her.

It struck her as utterly strange to view him from a distance. She had never seen him any way but up close before. He strode across the grass, all muscle and overpowering confidence, his broad shoulders straining against his shirt, the sunlight accenting the angles and planes of his body.

She ignored the little flip her heart made and turned back to her task. “I know what I’m doing,” she lied.

“You’re going to end up on your arse in the dirt before you get ten yards.” Reaching her side, he took the halter from her hands.

“I do not need your help,” she protested, piqued at the way he just took over. “You have no right to... to...”

He ignored her ire, deftly bridling the horse for her. “Were you planning to just ride off, your ladyship? No goodbyes?”

“How about good riddance?” She congratulated herself on how cold that sounded—because her pulse was fluttering wildly. She reached for the leather reins, but he held them back.

An odd expression played around his chiseled mouth. “I’m going to miss you, angel.”

He sounded like he meant it. Which only confused and infuriated her further. “You’ll get over it, I’m sure.” Every fiber of her being urged her to leave. Now. She moved to the side of the horse, intending to mount.

Nick remained in place, leaning against the animal’s flank, blocking her way, his gaze on the ground.

She clenched her fists, glanced uneasily toward Ramon. The smithy wasn’t paying them the least attention. He was sitting on the steps of his wagon, counting his earnings. “Mr. James,” she said under her breath, “you’ve got that pressing business appointment to keep in York, remember?”

Nick still didn’t budge.

She stared at his chest. “Goodbye, all right? Are you satisfied?” Her throat seemed to close off and suddenly she knew why she wanted—needed—to get out of there and fast.

Not because she was angry with him but because she was dangerously close to revealing her real feelings for him. Her voice had already turned quivery with emotion, with words that threatened to spill out.

Words she refused to speak.

She lifted her gaze, trying desperately to pierce him with a cold, uncaring look. “Goodbye. Is that what—”

He pulled her close with one arm, drawing her in tight against him as his lips covered hers in a kiss that was hot, deep, possessive. The feel of his mouth on hers sent cascades of fire through her, but this time she resisted. She pressed her fists against his chest.

But an instant later, she didn’t want to break free. The sound of protest in her throat became a sound of longing. She didn’t want her freedom. Didn’t want to say goodbye. Didn’t want to leave him.

Her resolve, her anger, her pretense of cool control melted in the heat of his embrace. She surrendered to the intoxicating taste and scent and feel of him. He held her as if he meant to brand her body with his, kissing her until the world spun dizzily around her.

Then he broke the kiss just as suddenly, steadied her on her feet until she regained at least some of her balance. She felt breathless, flushed. Speechless. He looked down into her eyes, for a long time.

For the last time.

The thought pierced her heart. Then his hands were catching her by the waist and he scooped her up, easily lifting her onto the horse’s broad back.

“Stay away from the main roads.” His voice sounded rough. “Keep your guard up. If you see any... if...” He seemed unable to finish the sentence. “Damn it, just be careful.” He handed her the reins and stepped out of the way. “Go and find your dreams in Venice.” He squinted, perhaps because the bright sun blinded him. “Go and forget me.”

Sam could feel her lower lip quivering. “Don’t ask for any promises.”

She couldn’t say any more. Couldn’t bear any more. She would never forget him. Never. Touching her heels to the gelding’s flanks, she wheeled her horse and set off toward the east, into the morning sunlight. Hot tears made the forest nothing but a blur of dark shadows and emerald green.

And she did not allow herself to look back.

~ ~ ~

Clouds rumbled in the night sky overhead, obscuring the moon and stars. Lightning flashed in the distance, and the wind that tangled her long hair carried the threat of rain. Sam thought of stopping and seeking shelter. She had left Cannock Chase behind an hour ago, and now followed what must be a sheep or cattle trail across open fields.

Her ruffled cotton chemise and silk skirt would offer little protection from a downpour, but she couldn’t seem to make herself care whether she got drenched or not. She kept going, slowing from a trot to a steady walk. The gelding didn’t seem the least bit weary. She was the one who felt sore from hours of riding.

And from last night. One delicate part of her body felt particularly tender, bringing a constant memory of the innocence she had given away, the sweet intimacy she had experienced.

The closeness she had lost almost as quickly as she had learned to treasure it.

She blinked away the dampness in her eyes, felt too miserable and tired to worry about rain or anything else. Everything was so different from the way it had been last night.

It felt so... odd to be alone.

Once or twice while she was still in the forest, she had heard movement behind her on the path—and even as she had concealed herself in the trees, her heart had fluttered with hope. Was it Nick? Had he changed his mind and followed her?

The first time it had been a deer, the second time a wild goat.

And both times had made her feel like a fool. How could she still be so naive, so witless as to think he might come after her? Nick James was not the type of man to chase after a woman. He had enjoyed her, shared pleasure with her for a brief time, and that was that, in his view. She would never see him again.

The sooner she got used to that idea, the better.

Rain began to spatter down from the black sky, matching her bleak mood. The horse nickered softly as the fat drops splashed his sleek brown coat.

“Sorry, old boy.” She sighed. “I promise when we get to Merseyside, I’ll sell you to someone who has a nice warm stall for you.”

Hunching her shoulders against the rain, she decided that perhaps it would be wise to stop somewhere. A hot meal and a roof over her head might do wonders for her spirits. A farm would suffice.

Or perhaps she should even splurge on herself and go to an inn. Order a hot bath sent up. And some scented soap and a pretty nightshift.

The idea made her sigh. A touch of civilization could be just what she needed, after so long in the wild. But she wasn’t sure what kind of indulgences she could afford at the moment. Shifting her weight, she slipped her hand into her pocket.

And felt something lumpy.

Frowning, she glanced down. With the clouds blocking the moon, she could barely see, but there was definitely something other than coins in her skirt pocket. What the devil had she...

As soon as her fingers closed around the object, she knew what it was.

She gasped, pulling it out and holding it up. A flash of lightning brightened the sky, striking brilliant sparks from the red facets that sparkled and winked at her.

It was Nick’s ruby!

She stared at the jewel in open-mouthed astonishment. He must have snuck it into her pocket when he held her in his arms. And she had been so swept up in his kiss, she hadn’t even noticed.

But why? Why would he give it to her?

Suddenly she remembered what he had said after he kissed her. Go and find your dreams in Venice.

A wrenching wave of emotions overwhelmed her, a rush of disbelief and surprise and love. The jewel would buy her passage to Italy. Together with the money she had stashed in Merseyside, there would be enough for a villa as well. She could begin her new life in security and comfort.

She barely noticed as the storm gathered strength around her, the gentle rain becoming a drenching cascade. Tears joined the raindrops that clung to her lashes. She closed her fingers around Nick’s gift. This gem had meant so much to him. He had been counting on it to buy him a better life in the Colonies. And after paying the blacksmith, he couldn’t have even a hundred pounds in coins left.

He had sacrificed his own comfort, perhaps more. For her.

Pressing the jewel to her chest, she looked over the fields, west, toward York.

Nick James did care about her. He might not be able to say the words, but he cared.

And he had stolen her heart as easily as he had stolen this gem.

But none of that changed the fact that he did not want her in his life.

Sam wiped at her eyes. He was still very much a mystery to her—and always would be. He was gone, out of her life, part of her past.

And she needed to keep moving. Gather up the fractured pieces of her heart and just keep moving. She had to seek shelter. Turning her horse back onto the road, she slipped the ruby back into her skirt pocket... but could not make herself let it go.

In another two days, she would reach her flat in Merseyside. And then, thanks to Nick’s gift, she would be on her way to Venice.