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Exerilla smiled. It was like traveling through one of her historical romances. It would be fine for a day or two, but months? With a sigh she closed her eyes.
* * *
Hunter MacTorry pulled his gelding to a slower pace and watched the two younger men riding with him as they trotted their horses down the road. Younger? Aye , by a few hundred years younger.
He had to get his tumbling rambling thoughts in order. He had walked into this with his eyes wide open in order to keep busy. He had needed to shake off the fact that he had not saved his parents, but still needed to keep focused and determined to save his brother.
What an odd threesome he made with Jacob and Swit.
Young Jacob, to all outward appearances, was a gentle lad with no real harm in him. What in the blazes was he doing running amok with the likes of Jerry Swit?
Swit looked to be a good five years older than Jacob, maybe more, the two were nothing alike. One thing Hunter was sure of was that Swit was up to no good. Jacob, on the other hand could not possibly know or understand what he was getting into.
Hunter could not believe that Jacob actually knew what was going on in Swit’s brain, or what his plans were.
Sir Jacob had all the makings of a good man, but somehow he had been floundering when Hunter had come across him. In many ways, Jacob reminded him of his brother, Ferrell. Not exactly handsome, he was pleasant looking, with a warm smile and endearing way about him. Jacob’s nature was still touched with an innocence that made him likeable. Swit, on the other hand, with his florid pretty face and dark heart was quite the opposite. Beneath Swit’s gentlemanly façade was a man devoid of ethics, and breeding.
He had a bit of a situation on his hands.
Swit was a man ruled by his needs and at the moment he had a need for money. Jacob while not filthy rich had enough money to attract Swit to his company.
Just as this thought flitted through Hunter’s brain, Swit turned in his saddle and shouted, “What is wrong with you? Keep up ole’ man.” His grin was wide across his taunting face.
“Ole’ man, is it? I think, laddie, I could show ye a thing or two…aye, would ye like to try me?” Hunter played along. He always had to be careful. He was an immortal with both power and magic. He had to disguise it all and be human, but every now and then, the male in him wanted to just let loose.
Swit didn’t take the bait, but merely said, “Then catch up. What are ye doing back there, daydreaming of some wench ye left behind?” He barked a laugh.
Hunter knew Swit had developed a suspicious eye in his regard. The man was forever trying to draw him out, get him to lose his temper and say something that might give him away. He, however, knew better. “I’m sparing m’horse ya fool, simply sparing m’horse.”
Swit brought his steed to a full stop. Jacob smiled and did the same, but Hunter saw the malice in Swit’s marshy brown eyes as he spat, “So practical, Scotsman, always so practical.”
“When it is called for,” Hunter said inclining his head. “Usually leaves me on top.” His blue eyes glinted. Everything about Jerry Swit grated on his nerves. He had laid out the challenge and waited for it to be picked up.
“Your way then, safe and dull,” Swit countered, a sneer marring his face, but he was not yet ready to take on the mysterious Scotsman. MacTorry didn’t bother to counter this as he lagged behind again. Jacob held back and walked his horse beside him. They were quickly approaching the crossroads up ahead and as Hunter glanced at the lad, he laughed out loud. “Go ahead and ask it, Jake, m’lad. A question is written all over yer face.”
“You don’t really like Jerry, do you?”
“Does anyone really like Jerry Swit?” Hunter replied giving nothing away. “One learns to… enjoy his antics from time t
o time, but never take him seriously.”
“Yes, but Hunter, I think you honestly dislike him,” Jacob pursued.
“Do you think that? Do you really like him lad?”
Jacob shrugged his shoulders and looked away. “Jerry is famous good fun that is when he isn’t being a bore. One can always count on sport when one is in Jerry’s company.”
“There is no denying that,” Hunter answered. “So then, Jake, is that why you and I are here with such a lad as he? For sport?”
Oddly enough Jacob colored to the roots of his light brown hair. Without answering, he spurred his horse forward and left Hunter to look after him.
Sadly, MacTorry thought that he had come so close. He would have to back off now, and wait it out, until Jacob was ready to tell him more.
Suddenly, Hunter’s magical senses were on the alert. He felt something in the air, and that something was coming from Jerry Swit. The man was almost drooling with excitement and he could sense the testosterone in the air. Aye, trouble was about to explode!
He urged his horse forward and came to a stop beside Swit and growled, “What is it?” Even as he asked, he looked down to the left fork in the crossroads and saw what had Jerry bright with anticipation. “Bloody hell, Jerry, now what? And doona tell me, nothing. I see it all over ye.”
A stagecoach was rumbling down the road just ahead of them and it was on the Dover Road, headed for the port town.
