Page 27 of Witchbane

I shook my head, satisfied to feel in charge once more. ‘That will not be necessary.’

‘Then how do you expect me to accompany you?’ she asked uncertainly.

I slid back in my saddle and patted the leather in front of me. ‘On my horse.’

‘I beg your pardon? You cannot be serious.’

I smiled. ‘Why? Do you not believe Warrior to be strong enough to bear the weight of us both?’

Her eyes darkened but she didn’t respond. Nor did she take her gaze from mine. Her hatred for me was obvious, but I had no intention of giving in to her, or leaving her here. I also knew it would be careless to risk leading her on my horse, since she was more than capable of galloping away.

‘You are not joking?’ she said after a few seconds.

I took a step closer to her. ‘I am not.’

‘How dare you treat her this way?’ Pierre snapped. He had arrived holding a pitchfork I felt sure he was tempted to use on me.

‘How else would you suggest we make the journey with only one horse?’ I sensed the three of them were sorely tempted to attack me. The time had come for me to leave with her. I wanted to have her to myself and try to forge a connection. Even after discovering how unlikely it was that she would ever be my friend, let alone anything more, I still didn’t want her to hate me.

‘Now, Mistress Underwood, if you wouldn’t mind mounting my steed?’ I slipped my foot out of the stirrup and reached out my hand for her to take.

‘No, Rue,’ Pierre said.

‘Don’t go with him,’ Jem shouted.

‘I have little choice,’ she said, looking from me to the stirrup. ‘At least you know where I will be.’ She didn’t turn to either of them but kept her gaze on my horse. ‘Please tell my grandmother and aunt what has happened.’

She gave me a pointed glare before taking her skirts in one hand and reaching up to take my hand. Then, with a little jump, she pulled herself up. She slipped her right leg over the pommel before modestly straightening her skirt and settling stiffly onto the saddle.

Seeing their heartbroken expressions, my feelings towards the two men softened. ‘I will send word to you. Hopefully Mistress Underwood will be allowed to return home shortly.’

The truth was that I had no idea what my father had in mind for this woman. I took up the reins.

‘Are you quite comfortable?’ I asked quietly, wishing the saddle was slightly larger and that I could leave even a small amount of space between us.

‘No, but that is of little matter.’

Her coolness towards me was understandable. As we walked down the drive and onto the road I realised she was still trembling and my bravado vanished.

‘I’m sorry I’ve had to do this to you.’

She stiffened. ‘You’re doing your father’s bidding.’ She sat upright, her chin raised, and I was impressed by her dignity at what must have been a frightening time.

We rode on in silence. I couldn’t help thinking how strange it felt for our bodies to be pressed against each other in this way. Intimate, yet not at all pleasant. The smell of rosemary wafted from her long shiny hair. I closed my eyes, wishing things were very different to how they were playing out now.

We had passed Thistlebury village and were on the way to Stanthorpe when she said, ‘I pity you.’

I tensed, hating to hear her say such a thing when all I wanted was for her to love me. ‘Why?’

‘Because most men grow up to follow in their father’s footsteps in admirable professions like law, or as blacksmiths, or maybe taking over the running of the family farm. Roles that provide help or something useful to the local people. Whereas no one benefits from the work you and your father do, and people loathe you.’

Her defiance had clearly taken over any fear she might have felt earlier. I admired her strength and hoped it stayed with her when she came before my father. She would most certainly need it.

I thought through her insult and had to admit most of what she said was true, but not all. I decided to be honest with her, hoping to redeem myself slightly.

‘I would not have chosen this as my profession.’

‘Then why do it?’