Lily's Leap (2 page)

He released her reluctantly. She took one step back and removed her glove.

“Lilibeth Dungarven.” She held her hand out to him. He grasped her long sculptured fingers and marveled at the sight of the fine delicate bones and blue veins of her wrist. Her purple eyes studied him closely and the warmth of her flesh seeped into his bones.

“You seem to have an advantage. I don’t believe we have met.” Her determined handshake, as firm as any man’s still managed to convey a femininity belied by her unconventional dress.

“A lucky guess,” He cleared his throat irritated by the dry dust of the road and desire. He attempted to swallow it down. “Your father’s brand is renowned in the colony. There are few who can lay claim to such magnificent horse flesh.”

“Almost as good as hers.”

“Jem.” Tom shot a deliberate look of fury at his tracker. “That’s enough.”

Struggling, he forced himself to drop her hand but maintained eye contact. Her clear uncompromising stare and vitality provoked and infuriated him. Desire had already clouded his judgment and turned his mind to potage. He sucked in a deep breath.

“Bring the others over here, Will. I am certain Miss Dungarven would prefer to be with her travelling companions.”

Will dismounted and waved his pistol nonchalantly at the other two riders. Tom waited impatiently, his foot drumming in the dirt as the disheveled men dismounted and doffed their cabbage tree hats. He muffled a snort of derogatory laughter behind his hand.

“Beggin’ your pardon missus we thought best to sit tight until I could work out what was happening.”

“Particularly chivalrous,” Tom muttered with amusement as he bent down to retrieve her pistol from the dusty road. “You. Down.” He waved the pistol at the third rider. “Will, sort him out and settle the horses before they spook each other.”

“God’s truth, a woman.”

“You’re repeating yourself, Will.”

His foot beat an irritated tattoo as the lanky young man covered the ground to the bay horse in three quick strides. He shook his head in disbelief as Will gallantly offered his hand. It was worse than a bloody circus.

A second woman, dressed in matching breeches and boots dismounted and Tom listened as Miss Dungarven tried once again to wrest control from him
.

“Bonnie, don’t panic. Come here with me. I don’t believe these gentlemen intend to harm us. George, see to the other horses if you would.”

He scratched his head in disbelief, the woman’s audacity, or perhaps courage astounded him. Then his body tensed and his skin prickled as he registered the mutinous look passing between her and her overseer. A flash of steel and the sudden movement proved him right. His voice rang out over the confusion, “Stay where you are. Every one of you.” He had to maintain the upper hand. “Lower your pistols now.”

With his eyes trained on the two men, Tom slid his pistol up from the indent of her waist over the swell of her breast until it caressed the side of her neck. He knew the barrel bruised the soft flesh under her tumbled mass of curls but she stayed perfectly still. “No more tricks or someone will regret it. Will, take his pistol. Jem, swap the bridles and saddles. Secure the Dungarven horses in the trees over there. Give them ours.” He jerked his head toward the overseer.

What in God’s name was happening?

He didn’t trust either of the women, especially Madam, Lady of the Manor, Dungarven. He forced aside the disconcerting reactions of his body and allowed his anger to blossom. What she needed was a lesson or two on how a woman should behave. Riding around the countryside dressed like a… like a vision… a vision from… He lowered the pistol from her neck and pushed her gently aside, impatient with his own reaction.

Drumming the barrel against his tensed leg he shouted at Will. “Get me something to write on. I’m going to pen a note to Edward Dungarven Esquire. I think we hit the jackpot today. Quality bred horses and something, or rather someone, very precious. The payback I’ve been waiting for.”

Her voice intruded into the ensuing silence. “My father will have you behind bars. You’ll have every trooper between here and Patrick Plains down on you.” She stood defiantly with her hands on her hips, tight fists clenched, knuckles white. “Why don’t you just let us go on our way? I’m quite prepared to hand over the cash I have on me…” Her lashes fluttered. For a moment she looked almost demure. “And my rings.” Her left hand flashed in front of his face.

He blinked rapidly at the spark of sunlight reflecting from her third finger and his stomach lurched unexpectedly. Ah, so she was a married woman, with the face of an angel and a body capable of tempting the very devil himself.

“I’m not interested in your jewelry, Madam, nor am I interested in harming you. I’m only interested in the value of your person. What your father is prepared to pay for your safe return will be fine compensation.” Tom brushed his hand over the back of his neck watching a shadow mar her perfect features and her gaze flicker away for the briefest of instants before returning to his.

“My father will be more interested in getting his horses to Sydney than worrying about getting me back to Wordsworth.”

“I doubt that very strongly.” How could any man not be interested in having her close to him, where she belonged, safe and sound? “Will, where’s the paper?”

A crumpled piece of paper appeared from Will’s breast pocket and Tom took it from the young man. Supporting himself on his forearm, he leaned against the smooth trunk of the gum tree and licked the stub of the pencil. His breath caught in anticipation at the thought of the red-letter day for the parish when he handed over the ransom money. He would demand five hundred pounds–more than two years’ wages for most people. She was worth far more, but five hundred pounds would suffice.

“Your companions will return to your father with our horses and my note,” he announced as he finished writing. She shot him a derogatory look and the corners of his mouth twitched. By God, there was fire in this one’s belly, a fire he would more than enjoy quenching. What a great shame she was spoken for.

“I’m not leaving without Miss Dungarven.”

Tom’s brow creased and he let out an exaggerated sigh encompassing the entire group. Now the other woman was sticking her nose in.

What is wrong with them? Don’t they understand the situation?

“Miss Dungarven can’t travel alone without a companion,” the woman insisted. “Her reputation would be ruined.” She stood with her hands on her hips, obviously something else they had in common in addition to their choice of riding attire.

“Bonnie, I will be perfectly alright. You return with George and explain the situation to Father.” Her pink lips tilted and the tip of her tongue traced her smile.

“In this circumstance I believe you are correct.” Tom nodded his head toward the older woman, Bonnie, and concentrated on his words and not the tip of Lily’s very delicate tongue as it traced her luscious lips. Unaccompanied and consorting with bushrangers would not enhance her reputation.
“We can’t have Miss Dungarven’s name besmirched in polite society, can we?"

“Polite society doesn’t interest me
;
nevertheless I appreciate your concern for the social niceties.” Her jaw tightened. It was the only movement marring the perfection of her golden skin. “Personally I have more concern for the horses. They are intended for export from Sydney in a matter of days. You won’t find better horseflesh anywhere.”

He had no doubt she was correct. The horses made a mockery of the half dead nags the majority of people had. It was obvious these horses were worth a pretty penny. He was sure she would also be imagining the reception her man would receive when he reached the Dungarven property. “I certainly appreciate the quality of the horseflesh, Madam. However I am sure your father will be far more interested in seeing you home safe and sound.”

Surely, she must be worth more than a bunch of horses, no matter how fine their breeding. Edward Dungarven was going to be delightfully out of pocket, and with his daughter accompanying them, they couldn’t be accused of horse theft. “The horses will be of more use to us than exported. Trust me. They will put us way out in front of any overzealous troopers. Let’s make a move.”

He watched with scorn as the Dungarven men mounted their broken down hacks. “Retrace your steps and get my message to your lord and master quick-smart. And remember it is not his horseflesh up for negotiation. It’s his daughter.” Dragging his eyes from Miss Dungarven’s enticing pink lips he issued his final instructions. “Give him my note and remind him if he, and her husband, want to see her again, it will cost them five hundred pounds at The Settler’s Arms in seven days’ time.”

“I doubt my husband is going to be remotely interested since he was killed over four years ago.” Her icy voice dripped with disdain.

The silence was palpable. Tom cursed inwardly, regretting his mistake. Even though he’d called it right about her father’s brand he was mistaken in his assumption of her matrimonial state. A widow. She was so young, so beautiful–perhaps that explained why she used her family name.

“I’ll tell your father what happened, miss. We’ll be back soon. Don’t you worry.”

She nodded at the overseer’s words and the purple of her eyes shadowed with a mixture of frustration and impotence. “Thank you. George. Please make sure you impress upon him the fact the horses are unharmed.” She shot him a resolute look as if to emphasize her words.

The sound of Jem’s hand delivering a resounding whack on the horses’ rumps reverberated in the dusty air and the Dungarven men hightailed it down the road back to their dubious welcome.

Tom’s sigh of relief lifted his hair from his forehead and he clapped his hat back onto his sweat-soaked head. “Miss Dungarven, we’re leaving.”

He pulled the coil of rope from his back pocket and caught the bridle of her horse and slipped it through the bit ring just before she sprang into her saddle. As he glanced up at her he caught the flash of defiance in her eyes and his breath hitched. She tensed and pulled her elbows tight against her sides and then yanked on the reins.

His head jerked back and he stared wide-eyed as time skewed and the massive black stallion lifted onto its hind legs and reared in front of him. He raised his arms and covered his head. A cold sweat broke out on his face as he ducked below the flailing forelegs. Cradled beneath the steaming belly of the stallion, he glimpsed the blue sky between the muscled hindquarters and the silhouette of its mighty testicles. The bulging veins on its haunches throbbed and pulsated to the rhythm of his shallow gasps, and the overpowering musty smell of horse sweat enveloped him.

The roar of blood in his ears deafened him, and as suddenly as it had begun, the shadow lifted and the stallion retreated step by practiced step. He struggled to his feet, his legs rubbery from the shock as a moist rush of air from the beast’s cavernous nostril brushed his cheek.

“I assure you I am quite capable of riding without a lead rope.” She looked down at him, her shoulders straight and her proud haughty face strikingly beautiful in the harsh sunlight.

He forced a tightlipped smile and let his breathing settle before he spoke, praying his voice wouldn’t crack. “I have no doubt, madam, after that display. It’s for that very reason I’ve attached the lead rope. I have no intention of losing you.”

Her slender fingers gripped the reins tightly as she stared back at him. He could see defiance and total control in every line of her body and that of the massive stallion. She and her mob of horses had plenty in common–quality and bloodlines. Breeding showed every time.

Another shudder snaked up his spine. Her vitality and courage drew him like a magnet and he knew he would have to watch himself. It was blatantly obvious that she could handle her horses and now her unusual attire made perfect sense. Nevertheless, they had little time to waste with displays of derring-do and one-upmanship. Every moment he spent with this incongruous group on the road, the more likely the chances someone would spring them and there’d be hell to pay. It was going to be a long hard ride but he had no doubt she was up to it.

Her high-pitched whistle cut the air and he turned just in time to catch the cool flick of her wrist and all the horses edged forward in response.

“Bonnie rides as well as your men. Have no fear for our capabilities.” She flashed him a supercilious smile and whistled through her perfect white teeth again. Tom found himself pulled into her wake. The realization of his predicament hit him. It was essential to hang onto the control of this group tightly, as tightly as the fit of Miss Dungarven’s breeches if he wanted to keep the upper hand.

“Let’s get a move on. I want to get to Wollombi before we camp for the night.” He dragged his eyes away from the rounded curves of her buttocks. “Jem, take us up over the track past The Giant Lizard at Yellow Rock so we avoid the road. We’ll drop down onto the Coolawine Trail.” He tugged at his reins and urged both horses into a loose canter resolutely setting his own pace.