said half to himself, preparing to dismount.
An enormous flash of lightning split the sky, followed by seconds of eerie silence. Hera laid her ears back and rolled her eyes in fear. Then came the thunder, growling like a pack of ferocious wolves. Hera tried to rear up, but Ross held her steady, automatically reaching out his hand to calm her.
But he was not thinking about his mare at all. He was concentrating on the sound that he had picked up in that tiny silence. Galloping hooves. Someone else was out on this wild night. By the sound of it, his horse was bolting.
Ross peered into the night, trying to identify the sound against the keening wind. Yes, there! The horse was racing towards him. And its pace had not slackened one jot.
He turned Hera towards the sound, readying her to intercept the stranger. But he had reckoned without the storm. Just as the unknown galloped past him, there was another flash of lightning. Hera reared up again. This time she almost unseated Ross. He wasted precious seconds regaining control, and even more in persuading her to follow the bolting horse.
He had no choice. For in that flash of lightning, he had clearly seen a terrified bay horse and, on its back, an equally terrified girl dressed in what looked like a long white shift and with her dark hair streaming behind her. Heaven knew what she was about, fleeing alone into the night. She might be a thief. She might even be mad. But whatever she was, Ross could not leave her to the mercy of the Solway and the terrible storm.
He kicked Hera into a gallop and cursed loudly when she baulked. ‘Come on,’ he breathed, leaning over her neck. ‘Come on, Hera. Don’t let me down now.’
Obedient to his voice, the mare started bravely forward once more. Ross knew that his chances of catching the girl were slim—she was already well ahead of him and he did not dare to force Hera to match the pace of the bolting horse—but he still had to try. Somewhere in front of them lay the Solway with its quicksands and unpredictable tides. Unless the horse stopped of its own accord, it would probably kill itself and its rider. The odds were against him. But Ross knew he had to try.
Another huge lightning flash, followed immediately by thunder. This time, Hera’s only reaction was a nervous twitch of the ears. Ross was almost sure that he had seen the girl, a long way ahead. There was something white up there, certainly. He urged Hera to move faster.
Now they were in the eye of the storm. The thunder was almost constant. Lightning forked to the ground. The storm seemed all around them, and very dangerous. The sudden drenching rain of high summer had started, too. Ross could feel it soaking through his clothes and running down on to his saddle. He gripped the slippery reins more tightly. He was sure, now, that he was gaining on her. Her horse must be tiring. In that last glimpse, she had seemed much nearer than before.
There was another bright flash and a huge crack of thunder, directly overhead. Ross saw the girl about fifty yards ahead of him. Her horse reared in fright, unseating her. Then it started off again, pulling the white-clad figure behind it.
Ross breathed a curse. She must be caught in the stirrups! The animal must slow now, surely, with such a weight dragging behind it? But the girl… How would she survive such an ordeal?
It seemed to take an age before Ross caught up with them. He reached out to grab the horse’s bridle and force it to a steaming halt. Only then was he able to do anything about the fallen rider.
He threw himself out of the saddle and knelt by the sodden body on the ground. The girl was not moving. Perhaps she was dead? He put a hand under her shoulders to raise her inert form.
‘I can shift for myself, thank you, sir,’ said a sharp voice from underneath the mass of wet hair.
Ross sprang back as if stung.
The girl sat up and tried to push the hair from her face. Then she thrust an arm up in triumph. ‘He thought he had the better of me,’ she cried. ‘Ha! As if I would ever let go.’
In her right hand, twisted round her palm, were the horse’s reins.
‘You could have been killed,’ he said, aghast. ‘Why did you not let him go?’
‘Because I need him,’ she said simply, looking up at Ross through her unkempt mane of hair. ‘Without him, I could never escape.’
Ross shook his head. Perhaps she was mad, even though she did not sound it. ‘Hold my horse,’ he said sharply, thrusting Hera’s reins into the girl’s free hand. ‘Now…’ He jumped to his feet, hauling the girl up after him. Then he took off his coat and placed it round her. She was shivering with cold. And she was wet through.
‘You must not, sir,’ she said crossly, trying to push the coat off her shoulders. ‘I am perfectly well as I am. I was only—’
‘Nonsense,’ he snapped. ‘You will get the ague if we do not get you warm. Now…I presume you are from these parts? Is there any shelter to be had hereabouts?’
‘Well…there is old Shona’s cottage, I suppose. I was going there when Lucifer bolted.’
Ross laughed shortly. ‘He is well named. What on earth made you try to ride such an animal? And dressed as you are, too?’
‘You sound like the dominie. Why is it that every man I meet wants to tell me what to do? I am perfectly capable of making my own decisions.’
Ross quirked an eyebrow. She was clearly a lady, but she looked anything but capable. Besides, she was probably no older than fifteen or sixteen. She was soaked to the skin, and her garb was barely decent. And she was riding an ungovernable horse. She clearly needed someone to take charge of her.
‘I am not a schoolmaster, ma’am, even if I sound like one to you. My name is Ross Graham, and I am a stranger in these parts. If you will permit—’ he sketched a hasty and inelegant bow in her direction, which provoked a hint of a smile ‘—I will escort you to safety. Perhaps you would…er…point me in the right direction?’
The girl shook her head at him. ‘Any man who can remember the courtesies of the drawing room in the middle of a raging thunderstorm must be addled in the brain.’
Ross put a hand firmly on her shoulder and squeezed. He had had enough of courtesies. They were getting wetter by the second. ‘Which way, ma’am?’ he demanded sharply.
‘Oh, very well. Help me to mount, and I will show you.’
‘You don’t mean to ride that animal again, do you?’
‘Of course I do! It will be much quicker than walking, you know. And I shan’t let him get away from me again, you may be sure of that. Besides, the storm is passing over. He will be calmer now.’
‘Good grief!’ said Ross to himself, but he threw her up into her saddle, none the less.
The girl set off at much too fast a pace. Unless she knew every inch of this ground, she risked her horse at every step.
‘Have a care!’ Ross cried to her retreating back. ‘You will kill your horse at such a pace in the dark!’
‘Not I!’ she retorted over her shoulder. ‘Follow me if you dare!’
For ten minutes, he did, wondering all the while whether he was right to risk his mare in such conditions. She had carried him through the final
