“Your uncle?”
“Well, maybe not my uncle. But Brom is,” she clarified, picturing the brute her uncle employed. “That’s his man. My Uncle Cyril will be following. Brom is always in the vanguard.” Heather’s hand tightened around the handle of the table knife, as if that would be a sufficient weapon against Brom, who could pick her up and toss her into a cart without breathing hard…or caring if he broke her back.
Niall’s gaze lingered on her white-knuckled grip. Then he abruptly gestured to the serving girl, who hurried over.
“Yes, sir?” she asked.
“That man who’s yelling in the next room…he needs to be kept occupied for a few moments.” He handed the girl a silver coin. “Ask him what he’s looking for and then spin him a tale that will send him in a different direction, preferably south.”
“Please,” Heather added, her expression tight. “He’s after me.”
The maid looked at her, and then suddenly nodded with comprehension. She took the coin and said, “One of those, eh? I’ll tell him I saw a young lady beg a ride from a man heading south toward London. He’ll be off like a…”
But it was too late, for they all heard a man responding to Brom’s demands, saying, “Oh, aye, there’s a girl like that here now. Just this way, sir…”
“Go out that back door,” the maid told Heather, helping her out of the booth. “Take a left and you can get round the stables from the back way. Ask for Stephen, he’ll help you get saddled and out of here.Go.”
Heather moved as fast as she could. The smell of the stables was strong and Heather needed no guidance to reach it. She nearly bumped into a stablehand leading a sweating roan to a stall.
“That’s Brom’s horse,” she said to Niall, who was following closely. “He must have ridden like the devil.”
“Help you, sir, miss?” the stablehand asked, uncertain of this conversation.
Niall took over. “If you’re Stephen, then yes. The man who rode the roan is after this girl, and we’d rather he not find her.”
“If he treats people as poorly as his animals, I can see why you’d avoid him,” Stephen said. “So you need to leave, eh?”
“Where’s your coach and driver?” Heather asked Niall anxiously.
“Can’t take the coach. Tavish is tending to a shifty wheel, and we need to move fast.” He looked over the horses, then nodded to Stephen. “That black stallion is one of mine. He’s been fed, eh?”
“Yes, sir. He’ll be ready to ride.” Stephen moved to the stall and began to saddle the massive black stallion.
“You’re leaving your coach and man behind?” Heather asked in surprise.
“He’s a smart one. He’ll catch up. Come now.”
Niall mounted the horse in an instant, and then held out an arm to assist her. With a whoosh she was sitting more or less on his lap, her legs dangling over his right thigh.
He slipped his arms around her to take the reins. “Comfortable?” he asked.
“Hardly.”
He glanced at the stable doors, front and back. Then he dropped a few coins to Stephen. “Any way to block the main entrance after we leave?”
“I’ll think of something, sir,” Stephen said with a nasty grin.
Niall rode out of the stable and then past the courtyard entrance at a steady trot.
“Can’t we hurry?” she whispered.
“That would attract attention,” he returned. “Lean into me.”
“What?”
“You’ll be less visible. Quickly, Miss Hayes.”
She leaned against him, ducking her head to his chest, using his shoulders as a shield. Heather realized he’d angled himself and the horse to make Heather very hard to see from the dining room’s sightlines. Whatever else this man was, he was clever.
