Lessons from a Scandalous Bride (Forgotten Princesses #2)(39)

She could tuck herself away in her father’s house and figure out what she was supposed to do now that her plan had been obliterated. She came up with a new plan to save her family—a plan that did not include him.

Once she was settled atop his mount, he led the horse down the rutted road.

“How much longer?” she asked after a few minutes.

He sent her a sideways glance. His lips curled ever faintly but he held silent.

“Now you won’t speak to me?” she demanded, looking down at him. “Very adult of you.”

“Be quiet,” he snapped, his head suddenly cocking to the side.

She pulled back her shoulders, her hackles quivering. “Don’t you dare speak to me—”

He reached up and covered her mouth with his hand. She felt her eyes go round in her face.

His eyes glittered up at her. Shaking his head, he motioned with his free hand for her to dismount. She nodded. After a heavy pause, he slipped his hand from her face. Hunkering down, she slid from the horse.

Once she faced him, he pressed his face close to hers and whispered in her ear. “I don’t think we’re alone.”

At these words, her eyes strained, looking left and right into the crowded press of trees. She could see nothing beyond their dark trunks and moon-soaked branches. No movement. No sign of life. Just an utter stillness that went beyond what was normal. And suddenly she realized it was too still, too quiet. The air tightened in her lungs.

He thrust the reins into her suddenly shaking hand and fumbled for a moment with the satchel attached to the saddle. She saw the glint of a knife’s blade before he tucked it out of sight.

“Wait here,” he instructed in a voice so low she barely heard it.

She grabbed his wrist as he began to move away, practically lurching at him. “You’re leaving me,” she whispered.

“Wait beside the horse.” He peeled her fingers from around his wrist.

She stared uncomprehendingly after him as he crept away, the large shadow of him disappearing into the trees. Was he really leaving her alone when there might be brigands lurking in these woods?

Her fingers clenched around the reins. She looked nervously to the left and right. Feeling inconspicuous—and foolish—standing in the middle of the road, she began walking, one foot falling after the other, crackling upon twigs and leaves covering the road.

Her eyes scanned the yawning stretch of road ahead, and the bowing trees that pressed in on either side of her. And yet the world was still oddly quiet, motionless.

Snap.

She stopped. The sound was close. She glanced at the horse, wondering if the noise had come from him. Her fingers nervously patted his velvety nose as she glanced around again.

She bit back the urge to call out for Logan and lifted her foot to continue—only to stop. She swallowed. Her eyes straining into the murky gloom.

The sensation of someone close, just behind her, raised the tiny hairs on the back of her neck.

She spun around to find two leering men upon her. Gasping, she stumbled back. One of the men grabbed the reins. The horse whinnied and sidestepped at the fierce tug.

It was as if they’d materialized from air. One was as skinny as he was tall, while the other was squatter, solid as a boulder, his eyes sunken and mean-looking.

“Ah, looky,” said the skinny one, sweeping her with his gaze and flashing a rot-toothed smile. “A fine bit of lady, aren’t you?”

“I’m not alone,” she blurted.

“Aye, that’s right. Where’d your man go?” He peered into the trees before calling out in jarring tones, “Come out wherever you are! We’ve got your little dove here.”

Nothing. She strained to listen for Logan, but not a sound greeted this.

“Maybe he heard us and decided to look out for his own neck and leave her,” the squat one volunteered.

Rot-tooth sneered at his comrade. “Well, it’s true you make too much noise, Dixon. Like a herd of elephants you are.” Satisfied with his insult, he sniffed and turned his attention back to Cleo, assessing her with a calculating look. “I don’t think he’d forget her. Not a fine lady like her.”

Cleo took a step back, hoping that was true. Where was Logan? Rot-tooth waved a pistol, motioning her to come closer to him.

Instead, she moved back another step. And another, contemplating how quickly she could mount Logan’s horse without getting herself shot.

She didn’t get very far before Rot-tooth yanked her against him. She was instantly assailed with the aroma of unwashed body. She struggled, only falling still when she felt the cold tip of the pistol press against her temple.

She closed her eyes in a slow, agonizing blink. Unbelievable as it seemed, she felt only regret faced with this moment that could be her last. Who would help her family now?

She suddenly wished she had allowed Logan more liberties. If she was about to die, the reasons for not tasting the passion he offered her seemed suddenly insignificant.

Before she could contemplate that further, Rot-tooth’s voice ripped through the night. “We have your woman. Unless you want to see her in pieces all over this road, you’ll step out now.”

She bit her lip until she tasted blood. Was Logan even out there? Her stepfather wouldn’t have stuck around for her mother . . . she didn’t even know if Jack would have remained in such a situation. Would any man? She didn’t have much experience with noble or honorable men—especially when self-preservation was involved.