Page 68 of The Notorious Lady

The sound spurred their mount to greater speed, its frightened whinny mixing with the reverberating echoes of two more shots. Ford hunched lower, shielding Grace with his body as he skillfully navigated the horse through a maze of narrow streets.

Grace knew the streets very well, and perhaps Ford did, too, but she couldn’t leave that to chance.

“Turn left!” she shouted in his ear a few moments before the street appeared before them.

Ford easily complied, guiding their mount masterfully in the maze-like streets. He was like a devil in the saddle, leaving their pursuers in the dust. And with Grace’s instructions, they had managed to lose them completely.

As soon as they maneuvered their way onto a wider road, Ford gave another nudge, and they flew past the streets, gaining as much distance from their pursuers as they could. Ford’s grip on Grace remained firm, his breath warm against her ear.

It took them quite a long time before Ford finally stopped their mount. He led them into a forested area, then made certain to cross the stream before finally allowing their mount to rest. The poor animal was tired and thirsty, lunging at the water.

Grace didn’t recognize this area but she was thankful to have a moment of respite.

Ford helped her down from the horse, and she immediately stretched, her back aching from sitting in an uncomfortable position for so long. Ford tied the horse before turning toward her. “You!” he said in a dry, cold tone of voice.

Grace reared back. After their successful escape, somehow, she didn’t expect hostility from him.

“You made me into a fugitive!” he continued.

Grace furrowed her brow. “I did no such thing!”

“Oh, really?” Ford spread his arm and glanced at their surroundings. “Am I a free man, then?”

Grace pursed her lips. “I did not force you to help me escape.”

“And I ended up skewering a magistrate’s son!”

A magistrate’s son? “I certainly didn’t ask you to do that!”

He scoffed. “Did you expect me to give you up so you could hang?”

“I offered you a solution that would leave you a free man. Even the King’s men offered you the same deal. I didn’t ask for your help. I can take care of myself.”

“Well, pardon me for not being willing to test that theory when your life is on the line,” he said in a sarcastic tone of voice.

“Then don’t blame me for forcing you to do it.”

“You did force me!” He took a step toward her.

“How?” She stepped forward as well. She wouldn’t let him intimidate her.

“You should have stayed in the hidden spot like I told you to!” Another step.

“Yes?” She matched him step by step. “And if the pursuers were not the King’s men but the Brotherhood? They would not be as charitable toward you. They would have tortured you to get my location, and more likely than not, they’d find me anyway.”

“Your worry for me is touching,” he said, now close enough for Grace to see the speckles of light in his eyes. His eyes weren’t black, after all. They were the earthy color of mixed green and brown… Hazel. “But it wasn’t the Brotherhood, and instead of saving my life, you ruined my career.”

She craned her neck back so she could continue looking into his eyes. She would be damned if she were first to break eye contact. “How convenient to blame me for decisions you made. You could have left me.”

“And you should have told me who you were!” He paused, his breathing labored. His chest rose and fell with the strength of his breath, his shirt brushing against Grace’s bodice. He briefly closed his eyes and shook his head, taking a step back. “Why did you not tell me who you really were?”

“Oh, that I am the owner of the brothel, the person you’re trying to incarcerate?”

His gaze was sharp as he looked at her. “You think I am the kind of person who would turn you in after all this time?”

Absolutely! The answer was ready on Grace’s lips, but that answer was a lie. She didn’t think he would. She hadn’t thought that for a while. Rather, she was afraid of his reaction—this exact reaction—to the truth. And then she was afraid that he would not care about her origins. Not when it came to saving her life, anyway. He would still want to help her but would look at her differently. The way he was looking at her now—judgment evident on his face.

“Don’t answer that,” he said hoarsely. “But now, thanks to you, we are both on the run. Is that better?”