running her hand over his neck. "You, not him."
She cleared up that distinction in her mind. Trojan snorted.
"Oh, alright. I confess. Nic is, too," she said to Trojan's nudging her arm and calling her bluff. "I always was a bad liar. There happy now?" Trojan bobbed his head.
Morgan continued to wander seeing no rush. The day was mild.
After an hour, Morgan had to admit she was lost.
"Oh, boy, Trojan, Nic is going to be pretty mad if he returns and finds you gone," she said stroking his velvety nose. Trojan bobbed his head in agreement. "Can you back me up that this was really not intentional?"
He shook his head sending his bridle to jingling.
"No, huh? Are you sure that's your final answer?" Morgan asked as she hugged his neck in comfort.
He pawed at the ground once as if to put his foot down.
"Well, see if I pull the burs out of that tail of yours ever again."
Trojan blew softly.
"Right, I just confessed that I am a bad liar. Ok, fine. So, I'll pick the burs, but you have to confess that Nic's concern and affection for you is almost unnatural."
The horse was the man’s main concern, she was certain, and she could not blame him. Trojan was a fine piece of horseflesh. Gentle when necessary, but he would tear your face off if the need presented itself. That training was reserved for only the finest, and she would love to breed him to some of her stable stock. The outcome would be fantastic.
Taking a deep breath, she reasoned that she had time to find her way back.
After another half hour, she was more than a little nervous. She was walking in circles, remembering that same fallen log from an hour past.
"Yep, I should have listened."
Why had she not listened to him? Taking a couple deep breaths to calm her heart rate, Morgan looked around to take her bearings. She had remembered the morning sun rising to her back as she set off in search of the roots and berries she had bundled in her shirttail.
She needed to be back before Nic even knew she had wandered off.
"There is time, right boy?"
Trojan bobbed his head in agreement just as if he understood her.
"Now, who's the bad liar?"
Chapter 14
Little did she know that Nic was already aware of her
little
disobedience and was oscillating back and forth between frantic and furious. Where could she have wandered off? Fearful to call out, Nic kept his control. If the search party had not cleared the area and he suspected they had not, he could place her into greater danger.
Nic knew from the news in the town tavern the party sent by Lord Brentwood had just left the inn that morning. The best he could discover from the information he gathered was they were continuing to head east. The word was they were looking for the Duchess, and there was a sizable reward for her return.
What worried Nic most was the lack of stipulation of her condition upon return; she only needed to be alive. That said a great deal to him about the uncle who was claiming to want her back. Not to place stipulations on her condition of return all but insured she might come back, but not in one-piece.
The claim was unknown assailants had kidnapped her, plucking her from the tender arms of her distraught and loving uncle. He guessed it would never do for word to get out that Morgan was running of her own free will.
Nic smiled despite himself. It had been a smart move on Morgan’s part to dress the part of a young boy.
What surprised him was her age. She was twenty, not looking a day over fifteen.
"Where the hell is she," he cursed, continuing to track her, and wondering how in heaven and hell one slip of a girl could be so much trouble.
“And by God, where is my horse!” he cursed her further for not following his instructions.
Thankful for the distinctive pattern of the shoe Trojan was wearing, he finally picked up the tracks, all the while, telling himself that she was fine and it would just be a matter of minutes before he found her. Nic was fighting a rising concern, a
She cleared up that distinction in her mind. Trojan snorted.
"Oh, alright. I confess. Nic is, too," she said to Trojan's nudging her arm and calling her bluff. "I always was a bad liar. There happy now?" Trojan bobbed his head.
Morgan continued to wander seeing no rush. The day was mild.
After an hour, Morgan had to admit she was lost.
"Oh, boy, Trojan, Nic is going to be pretty mad if he returns and finds you gone," she said stroking his velvety nose. Trojan bobbed his head in agreement. "Can you back me up that this was really not intentional?"
He shook his head sending his bridle to jingling.
"No, huh? Are you sure that's your final answer?" Morgan asked as she hugged his neck in comfort.
He pawed at the ground once as if to put his foot down.
"Well, see if I pull the burs out of that tail of yours ever again."
Trojan blew softly.
"Right, I just confessed that I am a bad liar. Ok, fine. So, I'll pick the burs, but you have to confess that Nic's concern and affection for you is almost unnatural."
The horse was the man’s main concern, she was certain, and she could not blame him. Trojan was a fine piece of horseflesh. Gentle when necessary, but he would tear your face off if the need presented itself. That training was reserved for only the finest, and she would love to breed him to some of her stable stock. The outcome would be fantastic.
Taking a deep breath, she reasoned that she had time to find her way back.
After another half hour, she was more than a little nervous. She was walking in circles, remembering that same fallen log from an hour past.
"Yep, I should have listened."
Why had she not listened to him? Taking a couple deep breaths to calm her heart rate, Morgan looked around to take her bearings. She had remembered the morning sun rising to her back as she set off in search of the roots and berries she had bundled in her shirttail.
She needed to be back before Nic even knew she had wandered off.
"There is time, right boy?"
Trojan bobbed his head in agreement just as if he understood her.
"Now, who's the bad liar?"
Chapter 14
Little did she know that Nic was already aware of her
little
disobedience and was oscillating back and forth between frantic and furious. Where could she have wandered off? Fearful to call out, Nic kept his control. If the search party had not cleared the area and he suspected they had not, he could place her into greater danger.
Nic knew from the news in the town tavern the party sent by Lord Brentwood had just left the inn that morning. The best he could discover from the information he gathered was they were continuing to head east. The word was they were looking for the Duchess, and there was a sizable reward for her return.
What worried Nic most was the lack of stipulation of her condition upon return; she only needed to be alive. That said a great deal to him about the uncle who was claiming to want her back. Not to place stipulations on her condition of return all but insured she might come back, but not in one-piece.
The claim was unknown assailants had kidnapped her, plucking her from the tender arms of her distraught and loving uncle. He guessed it would never do for word to get out that Morgan was running of her own free will.
Nic smiled despite himself. It had been a smart move on Morgan’s part to dress the part of a young boy.
What surprised him was her age. She was twenty, not looking a day over fifteen.
"Where the hell is she," he cursed, continuing to track her, and wondering how in heaven and hell one slip of a girl could be so much trouble.
“And by God, where is my horse!” he cursed her further for not following his instructions.
Thankful for the distinctive pattern of the shoe Trojan was wearing, he finally picked up the tracks, all the while, telling himself that she was fine and it would just be a matter of minutes before he found her. Nic was fighting a rising concern, a
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