There was a commotion up the aisle which grabbed her attention.
“Hey now! Who are you? Get back here!”
Alert, she left the stall and saw a small figure dashing up the aisle. The hurrying person barreled into her. Reflexes sharp, she grabbed him and halted his progress. The tweed cap was knocked askew and she recognized the wide eyes of Pug staring up at her. Immediately his expression changed and he scampered behind her, holding tight to her skirt.
“Don’ let them ‘urt me. I was jus’ looking around.” His tone was high pitched and fearful.
The two chasing him had pitchforks in their hands and skidded to a stop before her.
“You okay, Miss Najja?” Roy asked, brandishing the tool like a weapon.
“Yes, Roy. I am. Thank you.” The boy’s fingers flexed in the gray material. “This is Mr. Pug. I will see he makes it back to Lord Clifton’s estate.”
Roy stared at her, ascertaining the wisdom of leaving the boy there. “By your leave, Miss Najja.” Roy nodded and left with the other stable hand.
Alone with Pug, she watched him back away and gaze at her mistrustingly. She cast her gaze over his slight figure. He stood there defiantly as if waiting for something, she wasn’t sure what. But she had a hunch.
“Are you here to see Lord Adrys, Mr. Pug?” she asked.
He shook his head and scuffed his feet along the floor.
“I will take you to him if you are.”
“No.”
“Did you run from Lord Clifton?” Another shrug and he refused to meet her gaze. She licked her lips and tried again. “I will escort you back as soon as I finish brushing my horse.”
She stepped back into Fineas’ stall. Picking up the curry comb she began again, brushing the black hide.
“Gor, ’e is a beaut ’e is.”
Guess he is over his fear.
“Yes, he is. He was gift from a sheik in Egypt.”
“Where is that?” Pug asked from her side. One hand reached out to touch the warm side of her stallion.
“Across the sea. A vast land of sand and heat. Hot during the day and cold at night.”
“And the people?”
“Same as everywhere. Young boys get into trouble from impulsive actions.” She handed him the brush and showed him how to do it so Fineas could enjoy it. “Some are wealthy, some are not.”
“Did you live there?”
She smiled briefly. “For a time.”
“Where did you live then?”
“I have lived many places. The Orient for one, other places in Africa, and India to name a few others.” She put the blanket on Fineas then saddled him.
“Do you come back here quickly?”
“No. England is very small. The world is huge. I have spent most of life travelling one way or another.”
“Must be nice to see it all.” His comment was wistful.
She tightened the bridle and gave the reins to Pug in exchange for the brush. Then she nudged him toward the door, when he slowed she merely said, “Keep going.” Outside she continued the walk to the main house. Pug dutifully on her heels and Fineas on his. At the house, she hurried to the door and left a message with the footman of her intent to escort Mr. Pug back to Falcon House. As she descended the steps she took in how Pug stood next to the right shoulder of her horse. Leather reins in one hand and his other upon the equine’s neck.
Najja mounted and arranged her skirt then reached a hand out to him. His pale thin fingers slowly met her palm and she held his gaze. When he replied to her nod with one of his own, she lifted him up so he could sit behind her.
“Hold on to my waist,” she ordered.
He did and Lord Adrys stepped out the door. Hayworth gave her an odd smile before retreating back into the warmth of the home.
“Ready?” she questioned.
“Yes.” His voice held a tremor of excitement. Fineas moved out at an easy canter. For a short while they rode in silence until Pug spoke. “Can we go faster?”
She chuckled. “Hang on.” His grip tightened and she leaned forward asking her mount for more speed. Fineas plunged ahead, his hooves cutting through the snowy trail much like the sand he once thundered across in Egypt. She drew him up when they neared the large stone manor belonging to one Colin Faulkner, Lord Clifton.
“’e is a right fast ’orse, ’e is.”
“None faster,” she replied with an affectionate pat for her horse. “Be careful, Mr. Pug, it is dangerous alone in winter.”
At the base of the steps she reined Fineas to a halt. She carefully lowered Pug as a footman hastened up to hold the bridle.
“Goodbye, Miss Najja,” Pug said before heading up the steps. Colin met him at the top.
She could tell he’d been worried. He leaned down and said something to the lad before Pug vanished inside. Colin hastened to her side sending the footman on his way.
Colin looked so good. His hair drawn back, the earring glinted in the wintery sun. He wore black which like usual made him seem even more dangerous. More handsome.
“Najja,” he said, securing the reins tightly in his fist.
“Hello, Lord Clifton.” She shifted in the saddle and when Fineas snorted, she knew he was anxious to be on his way, her stallion never was one for standing still.
“You can come in,” he began.
She ignored the offer for she knew what was to come if she took him up on it.
Would that be so bad? Having him inside you again?
She tugged on one leather glove and shifted again, the smooth leather not hampering her movement.
“I merely dropped off young Mr. Pug. If you will excuse me, I have duties that I must return for.”
His gaze singed her. Lord help her, she wanted nothing more than to take him up on his proposition. She watched him swallow and nod. He released the hold he had on the bridle and took a step back.
“It is not safe for you to be riding without an escort.”
She kept her retort behind clenched teeth. “No different than it was when I rode here.” Najja inhaled sharply and enjoyed the bite the cold air delivered pulling her thoughts from where they hovered on Colin. “Good day, Lord Clifton.”
He didn’t speak just stared at her. His jaw flexed and she knew he tried to control himself. Not wanting to make things any harder, she moved Fineas out and rode back to Kittle Manor. As she rode she expected him to come thundering up behind her on Salvage. He never did and she had to fight back her disappointment.
Back in the house, Najja went up to Jo’s room and checked on her. She lay back covered to her chin on the large bed.
“Hey.” Jo watched her near the bed.
“How are you feeling?”
“Throat is really sore and I have no energy. I am glad to see you. How has your day been?”
“I rode Fineas so that was lovely.”
Blue eyes sparkled. “Did you see your handsome earl?”
Najja blushed. “He is not my earl.”
Jo laughed until she coughed. Waving away the water, she struggled to sit up. “Najja, I have known you most of my life. That man is yours.” She sobered. “What does he think of you leaving? I bet he is of the same mind as I am that you should not go.”
“Jo, this is not--”
Her eyes got wider and she spoke in a rush. “It would be perfect, Najja. You could stay here with Colin and we would always be near one another. Your father would never know and you would not have to go back and…and…” Jo trailed off at her shaking of her head.
“I have to go back, Jo. You know this. I know this. This is my life.”
“It is not fair, Najja.”
“That may be but it is how it is.” She reached out and grasped her friend’s hand. “I will miss you.”
Tears glistened in Jo’s eyes. “When you leave. I…we…will never see each other again.”
Not very likely. “I will miss you, Jo.”
Her only friend in the world scrambled out from the blankets and wrapped her arms around her. “I hope the attacks against us never stop.”
Trailing a hand down Jo’s multihued hair, Najja closed her eyes. “Do not say that, Jo. You and your family deserve to be able to live without watching over your shoulders.”
“But if it does not stop, you will stay.” Her voice was drenched in sorrow.
There were no words that would help the current situation. Resting her chin along the top of Jo’s head, Najja held her. No words were exchanged, she just sat there holding her friend until the tears stopped flowing.
The nightmares returned that night. Only this time it wasn’t Jo she couldn’t save, it was Colin. He was lashed within an inch of his life right before her eyes and there wasn’t a single thing she could do about it. After as he lay there bleeding and dying, the faceless man turned his attentions on her. It didn’t matter how hard she fought, how tricky she was, her own defeat was imminent.
She woke drenched in sweat, her weapons drawn before her, again, one ready to attack and one in a defensive position. On wobbly legs, she made it to the pitcher of water on a low table in her room. After splashing some of the cold liquid on her face, she felt marginally better. By no means would she say she felt good, just better.
Knowing sleep was no longer an option, she shrugged into the clothes she worked out in and made her way downstairs to the ballroom. The room was cold and she fought off a shiver while she walked to the middle of the spacious area.
Standing still, she lowered her head as the coils of her whip settled at her feet. With a deep breath, she exploded into action. Whirling, spinning, and dancing, she utilized the entire floor space her whip cracking through the air in time with her movements. Unable to see in the darkness, she shut her eyes and allowed her body to become one with the whip.
The hiss of the coil as it passed close to her body told her how near it was and she hit the switch, exposing the deadly teeth. Increasing the speed, she pushed her body to its limit. When the sound in the room faded to nothing aside from her deep inhalations, Najja stood still, head hanging, until she regained control of her breathing. She slowly opened her eyes and lifted her head. Through the large windows she could see the beginning streaks of dawn shooting across the sky.
She swallowed and strode to the door, moments before she reached it, she flicked her wrist and the whip roped around her waist and again became a belt. Without pausing in her stride, she continued on and headed back up to her room.
Colin sat tall and still in the saddle overlooking the frozen lake. Beneath him, Salvage, stomped a foot and tossed his head.
“Easy boy,” he murmured, dropping his gaze and stroking the muscled neck. The equine settled at his touch and he returned his sight to the ice.
It wasn’t on his property and it wasn’t on Adrys’, but bordered the both of them. Not that it mattered, he was more interested in the people on the ice, not where it was located. He smiled over the activities going on down there before touching his heels to Salvage’s flanks and approaching.
Jo spotted him first and she waved enthusiastically before falling on her butt. He bit back his laughter and merely raised his hand in acknowledgement.
“Hi, Colin!” she hollered.
Reining Salvage in, he leaned forward and stared at her. “I thought skating meant with your feet, Jo. Sitting is for sledding.”
She didn’t move just sat there and continued to laugh. “We do not have ice like this where I grew up.”
He allowed his gaze to trail along the snowy bank and locate Najja. She was just as beautiful as always. Unlike Jo, she didn’t play on the ice, instead she remained on the side, watching over her charge.
“Good afternoon, Najja.”
She met his gaze and gave him a brief nod in return. He felt like howling in anger. This woman before him looked like Najja but was different. She was cold and withdrawn. He hated it.
“Care to join me and show me how it is to be done?” Jo asked.
He swung a leg over the saddle and dismounted. The reins dangled to rest upon the unbroken crust of the snow and he made his way to the edge of the lake unconcerned that Salvage would leave. It had been a good many years since he’d been on ice and he took it nice and slow. Eventually he made it to where Jo still remained on her derriere.
“Well, first, it helps to be on your feet.”
She took his offered hand and together they made their way around the cleared area. The smoothness on his boots made him glide along and soon Jo had it pretty well figured out. Each time they passed where he could see Najja, he made a point to stare at her. She never moved. Her expression remained composed and blank.
The sound of tinkling bells reached them and he lifted his head and saw a two horse-drawn sleigh on the approach. Salvage and the two horses on Jo’s transport snorted before turning their attention away. He gripped Jo’s elbow and led her toward the shoreline, not wanting to be out there with these unknown person or people nearing.
He flicked his gaze back to Najja. She had shifted a bit but for the most part seemed to be doing her best to blend in the background. The sled turned and Colin got to see who it was. His heart sank. Francesca Kelly, Countess Valewood.
She was bundled up in white fur trimmed cloak, the thick red braid of her hair, which hung free from the hood, sliced through the alabaster like blood on snow. Her pale skin and her piercing eyes focused on him.