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  “Yes, Miss Marisa.”

  Marisa grimaced. The morning was indeed becoming surreal. To add to their already numerous troubles, John Rathburn had failed to respond to Marisa’s appeal to see him this morning, and Thompson seemed nowhere to be found. Now this.

  “I’ll go and see to this man.” It was Sarah speaking, who, though she was sitting up in bed munching on a heavily buttered piece of toast, yet looked frail and weak.

  “No, no, that is unnecessary, Sarah,” said Marisa, then to the boy, “Now, let me ensure I understand this. What you are saying is that, late as it is, because of this scout, none of my things have been loaded onto the animals?”

  “Yes, Miss Marisa.”

  “And this trailblazer, if you will, believes he has the authority to tell me what we can and can’t take?”

  Perhaps her voice was raised too loudly or too high, because the boy winced. Marisa shut her eyes on a sigh. What else was going to go wrong?

  One thing was certain. It was useless to take out her frustration on the poor servant. He was not to blame. It was this scout, this man who was no more than a mere guide for them.

  Marisa opened her eyes and glanced at the boy. “I’m sorry you are having this problem. Know, however, that it is not your doing. Please, if you would, point me in the direction where I might find this man, since it appears I will need to see to this myself.”

  “He is at the stables, Miss Marisa.”

  “Thank you.” Leaning over, she finished scribbling something onto a piece of paper. Done, she folded the note and sealed it. “Please go and take this letter to Sir Rathburn, whom you should find in his rooms. Tell him I require a word with him before we leave, if you please.”

  The boy nodded, though he yet looked nervous. “Yes, Miss Marisa.”

  Marisa smiled at the lad. “Cease your worry. You’ve done as well as you could. Now that my breakfast is finished, I will find this scout myself and take the matter up with him personally.”

  “Yes, Miss Marisa,” said the lad as he turned to leave her rooms and go in search of John Rathburn.

  Marisa watched the lad’s retreating back before slapping down her napkin. “Who can this man possibly be?”

  “I little know, but you should remain here while I go to the stables and resolve this matter for you. ’Tis my duty, not yours.”

  “And have you run the risk of coming into contact with James?”

  “I am not a baby, nor am I a rich woman to be waited on.”

  “Dear Sarah. All my life you have cared for me. You have been more than a governess to me. You are my best friend. It’s my turn to serve you. My only concern is that you will be here in my rooms alone, and James could… Have you a pistol?” Marisa walked to a desk, where she opened a drawer and withdrew a weapon, which was already primed. “I know that you can use this since we learned to shoot together. Now, if James comes here, use it.” She shoved the pistol into Sarah’s hands. “I should be gone but a moment.”

  While Sarah was examining the pistol, Marisa let herself out of the room and turned the key in the lock.

  Who was this man? Who was he, this mere servant, who seemed to believe that he could order their lives? Weren’t scouts hired to do little more than lead and mark the way? They were not hired to become small tyrants, were they?

  What a morning.

  As she stepped away from the door, she picked up the folds of her petticoats, as well as the silk of her dress, and she treaded down the corridor, then to the stairs, and finally out onto the grounds outside. She headed toward the livery. Unfavorably for her, every step along the way served to increase her ire, which was already stirred up by the many peculiarities of the morning.

  Thompson still had not arrived, but though the man might see the edge of her tongue, she thought she might forgive him more easily than the next person, if only because she knew he could not be trusted.

  But there was no excuse for her guardian, who even now remained locked in his chamber. To date, John Rathburn had refused entry to every servant she had sent to bring him greeting.

  Marisa grimaced. She could understand that her step-uncle was upset with her—undoubtedly he was also disappointed in her—but his brooding nature this morning only served to indicate his utter lack of regard for her, since even a dressing-down was better than nothing.

  And then there were Sarah and James to be considered. How could she leave without ensuring that James would be reprimanded?

  She reminded herself to remain calm and in control of her mounting anger. After all, such behavior on her guardian’s part was nothing new. However miserable, he was the only family she had ever really known. Quite naturally she wanted to like him and be liked in return, an ideal she had long hoped for but had never attained.

  She sighed. Despite herself, it hurt.

  Chapter Eight

  It was she.

  At the mere thought of her approach, Black Eagle could feel his heartbeat lighten, then speed. Unfortunately for him, simply watching her caused his blood to pool in the region of his groin. And like a lad of sixteen, he was ready for her.

  But he was a man, not a lad, and as a man should when passion is uncalled for, he curbed his body’s inclination. Truth be told, he fully expected her to be upset with him. After all, he had missed his opportunity to inform her of his role, and it took no genius to realize she was going to be less than pleased when she discovered he was her scout.

  It did him little good now to proffer the justification that he had thought she would still be with him when he had awakened this morning. Unquestionably, he should have told her who he was and what part he was to play in her life as soon as passion had risen between them.

  He grimaced, shook his head and sighed, watching the beauty’s approach with an adoration he could not suppress, prizing the way she moved, the manner in which she dressed, the motion of the wispy hairs fluttering back as her auburn tresses danced against the wind. Her dress was flattering to her skin, being the ivory color of the palest sunrise, with the sides of the skirt flaring out in the style the English seemed to favor. That it caused her waist to appear as though he could span it with one hand was a fascinating illusion. Haplessly for him, it brought back to mind the delicate treasures that lay hidden beneath her gown.

  “Oh, Grandmother,” he whispered aloud. “I am in trouble.”

  Perhaps he could keep her angry with him. For she would be more than a little unhappy when she discovered who he really was. Especially in light of the fact she had clearly meant to never see him again.

  Could he keep her at arm’s length by courting the anger of her tongue? Once again, he breathed out deeply. He would try. He didn’t like it, but he would have to do it. It was either that or…

  As he stood in the shadows admiring her approach, he decided he would wait before announcing himself openly. And though he appreciated every fluid movement of her body, he braced himself for the coming skirmish, welcoming it.

  “Scout! Where are you?”

  Black Eagle frowned. Her tone of voice was harsh, and she hadn’t even seen him yet. All the better for his cause, but it did propel him to wonder if there was another problem.

  He didn’t step out of the shadows, which hid him from her view. But he did respond, saying, “I am here.”

  “Where? I do not see you.”

  “I am here by the horses,” he said in perfect English, though his voice was barely over a whisper and indistinct.

  She glanced in his direction, and so great was her beauty, it was all he could do to keep himself from overly staring at her.

  “Oh, there you are. I see you now, but only your shadow. Could you please step out of the dark so that I might look at the man I am speaking to?”

  He stayed where he was, but she didn’t comment. Instead, she stepped toward him. “Scout, you have taken much upon yourself by deny
ing mine and my maid’s clothing and articles to be packed on the horses. I insist you allow my servants to load these things at once.”

  Ah, so that was her distress. He shook his head sadly as he realized this was the perfect time to fuel the anger already within her. He stated flatly, without explaining, “I cannot allow it.”

  “You! You cannot allow it? And who are you to dictate to me what I can and cannot do? What I can and cannot take on this journey?”

  Why did she have to radiate warmth and beauty, even in anger? “I am your scout,” he answered. “I am also the defender of this party. Your things will be in the way. Therefore they stay here. I have said so.”

  Her eyes flashed, her color deepened. “You have said so? I beg your pardon. You have no authority to even have an opinion on this matter.”

  Unconsciously, he drew his brows together. “All creatures have a right to an opinion. The Creator has made it so, and not all the earthly authority of the English can make this different, since only He, the Creator, can take that right away.”

  She shivered slightly, so great was her wrath. “Do not lecture me. I am not talking about rights. I am discussing what is to be taken on this trip. What gives you the authority to dictate to me? Why, you know nothing about me or my maid. You know not how long we intend to be gone and why each and every item we choose to bring is important. Therefore, you will interfere in this no more, and you will cease harassing my servants in this regard, thank you very much.” Picking up the ends of her dress, she turned to leave.

  “I disagree.”

  She stopped and spun back around. “You disagree?”

  “I do. I am your scout. As such I have the authority to do exactly as I am doing.”

  She breathed out heavily. “You have been hired, scout, to lead us. No more. What we seek to bring is not within your realm to adjudicate. Indeed, you have no authority in this matter. Understand, please, that your duty on this journey is to obey me.”

  “I still disagree.”

  “You cannot disagree. You are a servant. Our servant.”

  “I am a servant to no man and no woman, and since you cannot find your way through the forest without me, what I say stands.”

  That he was frustrating her was evident, for she folded her arms over her chest and frowned at the place where he still lingered, the shadows still hiding his identity. “Perhaps you are confused. Is it not you, then, who has been hired to lead us east to the New Hampshire settlements?”

  “It is I.”

  “Do you not realize that by agreeing to do this, you have become my servant?”

  “Have I? Did anyone say this to me? Did I openly assent to be your servant? No. Therefore, I disagree.”

  She sighed. “Understand me. It is a part of the agreement between servant and master that when you are hired, you are beholden to the one who hired you.”

  “I am beholden to none, and so long as I am scout for this party, I will continue to agree or disagree and will say what I think at my leisure regardless of what you or any man says.”

  She bemoaned and glared in the direction where he stood. “Who do you think you are?”

  “I am your guide.”

  “Obviously, but I meant…” She paused without finishing her line of thought. “Who hired you? Thompson?”

  “It is so.”

  “Ah! That explains it. Perhaps you little understand that I hired Thompson. Therefore, I could unhire you,” she threatened.

  He nodded, although he doubted she could see the movement. “You have that choice.”

  “And I shall exercise that choice as soon as Richard Thompson arrives. In the meanwhile, you will cease being a nuisance to my servants as they load my dresses and toiletries onto the animals.”

  “I cannot do that. I will not do that.” He took a step forward, coming for the first time into the soft, flickering light of the stables. “It is dangerous to take so many things on a journey such as this. Are you not aware of that?”

  “No, and I—” She became suddenly cognizant of him, and as she stared at him, her lips were still parted from whatever else she had been about to say.

  He well understood her plight, for she had not recognized him by his voice alone. Indeed, she was as shocked as he had feared, had hoped she might be. But seeing her now, as she glared at him in confusion, he realized he had been wrong to strengthen her distress. To reduce the edge of the surprise he had caused, he proffered, “I told you we would meet each other again. Perhaps I should have spoken more plainly on this matter before…”

  At first nothing happened; she merely gaped at him. Then her eyes widened, and her expression became set. “You!” she said at last. “You!” she stated again, as though she could not believe what her eyes were telling her. She took a step away from him. “You are to be our guide?”

  “I am.”

  “And you knew this when you and I…? When…?”

  “I fear that I did.”

  “Of course, you said as much to me. I remember it now. It is only that I didn’t realize…” She took a few more steps backward. “Why did you not tell me plainly so that I understood?”

  “It was wrong of me not to do so.”

  “Indeed, it was.” She spun around so her back was to him, and she paced several more steps away. “This changes things.”

  “It should change nothing.”

  “No, I am sorry, but it changes much. You cannot possibly lead us…” She paused as an emotion he could not interpret shook her body. Then, almost to herself, she muttered, “And yet you must lead us, since there is no time to hire another.” She turned her face to the side, looking at him from over her shoulder. He was struck by the beauty of her simple profile. So captivating was she that he could think of nothing to say. But it was unnecessary, for she continued, “Had I known that you…that we…that…” She sighed. “Had I known that it was you who had been hired to lead us, I would never have come to you. I would never have…”

  He paused, awaiting her next words, when she said, “As soon as Richard Thompson arrives, I will tell him that you cannot possibly lead our party. Indeed, he will have to take us on this route alone.”

  “Why?”

  “I should think that would be obvious.”

  “It is unwise to trust your safety to only Thompson. If you do, then you will only have one man to defend you on your journey, and this at a time when there is a war waging over this land. It’s unwise. Besides, there are few white men who know of the safe paths that run through the eastern woods.”

  “I am certain that he knows them well enough.”

  “To lead you through enemy country, in such a way that you might arrive with your life still intact?”

  “Yes. I’m certain he’s more than qualified.”

  “Qualifications mean nothing to a war party.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “What you need is manpower. If you take only Thompson, it could kill you because there is only one to defend you.”

  She seemed not to hear him. Instead, she began to pace forward, then as though she were unaware of making the movement she paced back, then forward again, back, repeated over and over. He watched her, fascinated.

  “Dear Lord,” she mumbled after a time. “This is a terrible turn for what has already been an agonizing morning.”

  “Has something else happened?”

  “Yes. I was missed last night, and I’m afraid my guardian, my step-uncle, is set to dismiss me and my maid out of hand, without so much as a kind word in farewell.”

  “I am sorry.”

  “Are you?”

  “I am, truly.” He took a step forward, into the line of her pacing.

  She skirted around him. “I find that hard to believe.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you should have told me about yourse
lf. To not do so is a matter of dishonesty, isn’t it? You should have given me the opportunity to think clearly with all the facts available to me.”

  “I was going to tell you afterward, but you left.” He hesitated. “Why did you leave?”

  “Because I had other matters to attend to,” she said, her pacing growing faster. “And because I never intended to…”

  He arched a brow at her. “To see me again…”

  She stopped suddenly in her tracks, and she turned, presenting him with her back. “I told you as much. So don’t tell it to me now as if you didn’t know. Oh, what am I to do? I must leave, and yet now I cannot.”

  “Why must you leave? If you are experiencing trouble with your family, stay and settle whatever is wrong between you before you depart. I have a duty elsewhere, and when I return, I will guide you then.”

  “No, you don’t understand. I have to go now. Something else has happened that makes this imperative.”

  He pulled a face. “What else has happened?”

  “I cannot speak of it. Know only that we, my maid and I, must leave, and as soon as possible. What a predicament. We need a scout and yet I cannot possibly travel with you after…after…” Her voice broke.

  “Is it that you feel I will admire you too greatly?”

  She didn’t answer.

  “Or do you think I might seduce you?”

  “No, it is that… Well, maybe.” She bent her head.

  He took a few more steps, coming up behind her, and despite their cross words to each other, it was all he could do to keep his hands to himself. “And if I promise not to seduce you?”

  “Can you keep that promise?”

  “It would be a difficult task, I admit, but if I give you my word, I will not break it—at least not until you release me from my oath.”

  “And you think I might release you from it?”

  “I can hope, for it would not be an easy troth to keep.”

  As if to give emphasis to the fact, he stretched out a hand to press his fingers over her nape. Nor did it bode well for him that she practically melted beneath his touch. He swallowed hard. “Usually when two people feel as we do, they marry. But we cannot. We have already agreed on that. Perhaps this could be the beginning of an unusual friendship. Friends, yet more…”