Read Online Forget Me Not by Melissa Lynne Blue - Free Book Online
Authors: Melissa Lynne Blue
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to discuss my childish behavior with you.”
They stood not six inches apart glaring at one another in silence. After a long moment Lydia gave an imperial toss of her head, squared her shoulders, and swept past him as one squashing a bug beneath her shoe. It was official. He was beneath her notice.
For hours the two of them trekked in silence through the woods paralleling the road their captors had likely driven along. Time and again he thought to apologize, but stubborn pride won out every time he began to open his mouth. Grudgingly he had to admit being impressed. Not once did Lydia protest to the pace or complain of the conditions, and few women of his acquaintance would have the moxie to ram a pitchfork through a grown man’s thigh. She seemed to trust in him completely, it was humbling and it was fostering an overwhelming need not to disappoint her.
As the sun continued to travel across the afternoon sky Brian doubted his ability to fulfill the promise of food, clothing, and shelter before nightfall. He knew Lydia was tired and, if the ache in his belly was any indication, likely starving. More and more frequently he was required to prod her along to prevent her falling behind, she was much too delicate for this degree of hard travel. He shook his head, to think the lass planned to take off on horseback alone .
“Wait here,” he commanded. “Stay in the trees.” He couldn’t believe his good fortune. A fork lay in the road just ahead. The battered remnant of a road sign was visible in the thick underbrush. With any luck it would direct them to the nearest village. He looked quickly left then right assuring no one was in the road and jogged to the sign. It was worn, the etching in the wood barely discernible , but if he was reading it correctly—
“Where are we?” Lydia’s voice sounded directly behind him.
His eyes rolled to the heavens. “Are ye capable of obeyin’ orders? I told you to wait in the trees, Lydia. It may not be safe in the open.”
She crossed her arms, clearly indicating she didn’t particularly care what he told her. “Are we in Scotland?”
“Not far from it. I gather we’re in Cumberland.”
“Too bad.” A wan smile quirked her lips.
“Why is that?”
“I should have liked to say I’ve been outside of England.”
“One day ye shall.” He winked, his damnably fickle heart softening once again. “If we take this fork we should come to a village err long. Are ye agreeable to a change in course?”
“I’m agreeable to whatever gets us food and shelter before dark.”
Within a quarter hour Brian came to be convinced there was in fact a God, and that he was smiling upon them. As his head crested a small rise a modest sheep farm with a charming stone cottage at the center came into view.
“Oh, thank God,” Lydia mimicked his thoughts, and set off down the hill ahead of him.
Within moments a man stepped through the front door of the charming stone cottage with an arm raised in greeting. “Good evening,” he called.
“And to you, sir,” Brian returned, breathing a sigh of relief. Drawing closer to the man he could not shed an uncanny sense of familiarity.
A grin split the man’s face. “Captain Donnelly? Is that you?”
“Harvey Baker?” He shook his head in disbelief, striding eagerly forward to clasp the outstretched hand of his old friend. “I don’t believe this. I’d taken you for dead two years ago.”
“It’ll take more than the French to do the likes of me in. Anna,” Harvey bellowed. “Come on out here, you’ll never believe who stumbled upon our doorstep.”
A pretty blonde woman with a hint of gray about the ears appeared behind Harvey on the stoop. “Just what are you blathering on about old man? You’ll wake the neighbors with your racket.”
“Neighbors woman? There isn’t another house within twenty miles.”
“My point exactly.”
Harvey rolled his eyes, and shot Brian a do you see what I have to put up with
They stood not six inches apart glaring at one another in silence. After a long moment Lydia gave an imperial toss of her head, squared her shoulders, and swept past him as one squashing a bug beneath her shoe. It was official. He was beneath her notice.
For hours the two of them trekked in silence through the woods paralleling the road their captors had likely driven along. Time and again he thought to apologize, but stubborn pride won out every time he began to open his mouth. Grudgingly he had to admit being impressed. Not once did Lydia protest to the pace or complain of the conditions, and few women of his acquaintance would have the moxie to ram a pitchfork through a grown man’s thigh. She seemed to trust in him completely, it was humbling and it was fostering an overwhelming need not to disappoint her.
As the sun continued to travel across the afternoon sky Brian doubted his ability to fulfill the promise of food, clothing, and shelter before nightfall. He knew Lydia was tired and, if the ache in his belly was any indication, likely starving. More and more frequently he was required to prod her along to prevent her falling behind, she was much too delicate for this degree of hard travel. He shook his head, to think the lass planned to take off on horseback alone .
“Wait here,” he commanded. “Stay in the trees.” He couldn’t believe his good fortune. A fork lay in the road just ahead. The battered remnant of a road sign was visible in the thick underbrush. With any luck it would direct them to the nearest village. He looked quickly left then right assuring no one was in the road and jogged to the sign. It was worn, the etching in the wood barely discernible , but if he was reading it correctly—
“Where are we?” Lydia’s voice sounded directly behind him.
His eyes rolled to the heavens. “Are ye capable of obeyin’ orders? I told you to wait in the trees, Lydia. It may not be safe in the open.”
She crossed her arms, clearly indicating she didn’t particularly care what he told her. “Are we in Scotland?”
“Not far from it. I gather we’re in Cumberland.”
“Too bad.” A wan smile quirked her lips.
“Why is that?”
“I should have liked to say I’ve been outside of England.”
“One day ye shall.” He winked, his damnably fickle heart softening once again. “If we take this fork we should come to a village err long. Are ye agreeable to a change in course?”
“I’m agreeable to whatever gets us food and shelter before dark.”
Within a quarter hour Brian came to be convinced there was in fact a God, and that he was smiling upon them. As his head crested a small rise a modest sheep farm with a charming stone cottage at the center came into view.
“Oh, thank God,” Lydia mimicked his thoughts, and set off down the hill ahead of him.
Within moments a man stepped through the front door of the charming stone cottage with an arm raised in greeting. “Good evening,” he called.
“And to you, sir,” Brian returned, breathing a sigh of relief. Drawing closer to the man he could not shed an uncanny sense of familiarity.
A grin split the man’s face. “Captain Donnelly? Is that you?”
“Harvey Baker?” He shook his head in disbelief, striding eagerly forward to clasp the outstretched hand of his old friend. “I don’t believe this. I’d taken you for dead two years ago.”
“It’ll take more than the French to do the likes of me in. Anna,” Harvey bellowed. “Come on out here, you’ll never believe who stumbled upon our doorstep.”
A pretty blonde woman with a hint of gray about the ears appeared behind Harvey on the stoop. “Just what are you blathering on about old man? You’ll wake the neighbors with your racket.”
“Neighbors woman? There isn’t another house within twenty miles.”
“My point exactly.”
Harvey rolled his eyes, and shot Brian a do you see what I have to put up with
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