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“Have you robbed any coaches today?” she said, a sting in her voice. She was still smarting over Marietta.
“Several, thank you, darling.”
“There must be a great many wealthy gentlemen here in Devon.”
“And beautiful wealthy ladies. I prefer to rob them.”
How did he know just what to say? It wasn’t that she was jealous, she told herself, goodness me no! She felt sorry for the ladies, if the truth be told, to be tricked by a smooth-tongued rogue like him.
“If I were you I would find one you like and persuade her to marry you,” she said. “An heiress in the hand is worth two in the bush, so they say.”
He looked puzzled, his head cocked to one side, and then he smiled. “Are you making a jest, Antoinette? Or are you a little jealous? Don’t you like the thought of me spreading my favors far and wide? Believe me, of all the women in Devon, you are my favorite.”
Foolish, the way her heart jumped about. She turned away, wanting only to escape him
before he saw just how much he affected her.
But he was too quick for her.
He caught her hand in his. As she tried to pull free he was running with her toward the overgrown maze, tugging her off balance so it was all she could do to stay on her feet. A moment later they were inside the living walls, greenery towering over them.
“Let me go!” she cried, trying to free herself.
He ignored her, circling around and around, zigzagging through narrow pathways where the sides of hedge almost joined together. “This maze was built for a famous lady, a king’s mistress,” he said.
“Built for her?” Antoinette gasped.
“For love of her.” They turned another corner and then he stopped. “Here we are,” he said with an air of reverence. “In the very heart of the maze.”
Antoinette was panting, trying to catch her breath. The light in here had a green tint, almost as if they were under water. “Well, now you can turn around and take me out again,” she said furiously.
“The idea is to find your own way out.”
There was a glint in his pale eyes she knew all too well. He was planning something she wasn’t going to like—or perhaps she would like it a little too much. She began to shake her head. “No—”
“You haven’t heard my proposition yet,” he pointed out.
“Then tell me. But the answer will still be no.”
“I will require one piece of clothing for each time I show you which way to go to get out. If you’re lucky and don’t go the wrong way too often, you may still have your stockings by the time you reach it.”
Antoinette could hardly believe what she was hearing. Shocking! How could he make such a suggestion? But deep inside her, where the other Antoinette slept, excitement was stirring. Of course she couldn’t let him see that, and there was no way she could agree to such a proposal.
She pursed her lips. “Most definitely not. Show me the way out immediately.”
He shook his head and began slowly backing away from her, one foot after the other. Her heart began to thump at the prospect of being left here, alone, at the heart of this wilderness.
“Good-bye, Sparrow,” he said, his mouth turning down in pretended regret, and then he turned and was gone.
“Don’t leave me…” But it was a whisper, not loud enough for him to hear. Antoinette sighed. She supposed he thought she would scream and weep and agree to anything if he’d save her. But Antoinette was used to taking control in such situations—she had been her own mistress for a great many years now. This was not the time to become hysterical. Slowly, cautiously, she began to retrace her steps.
It can’t be all that difficult.
But it was. Every path appeared the same, and she’d not taken note of the direction as the highwayman led her in. She’d been more interested in preserving her dignity. But she persevered, following her instincts. Just when she was sure she was on the right path, she came to a dead end, and had to retrace her steps. But for every wrong turn she became more and more confused. To make it worse, some of the hedge had grown so tall it made an arch and blocked out the sky, so she was walking through green shadows.
It felt like another world. A world of elves and creatures of nature, waiting to pounce. Antoinette, who was too levelheaded to be frightened by fairy stories, began glancing over her shoulder at every step and starting at every sound. A couple of times she thought she heard laughter, a woman’s laughter, and a man’s soft chuckle. As if she were sharing the maze with ghosts of the past.
“Hello?” she tried calling out, softly at first and then increasingly louder.
