Beyond a Doubt - By Felicia Rogers Page 0,4
questions later, Lucy spoke now. “You see, my original escort left me.”
“Ye are alone?”
“I’m afraid so. Not by choice, mind you. The beggar swiped my clothes, horse, and food. It was by God’s grace I have a hearty constitution and the ample ability to walk or I wouldn’t have made it this far.”
Bryce said nothing.
“So what food stores do you have?”
He pinched a piece of salted meat between two fingers and held it up.
“Ah. We will stop in the next town for supplies, I suppose.”
He stopped chewing.
While she spoke, her hands nervously fluttered about. “Of course, my previous companion escaped with my funds, so I will have need of yours. Rest assured, once we reach my destination all will be repaid.”
“I have no funds.”
“But surely you’re not traveling without some means of monetary support?”
“Aye, I am. I have all I need.”
“What? A horse, a tunic, a soggy pair of trews, and salted meat? I refuse to live on dried-out meat for the continuation of this journey.”
“Verra well. I’m out of the meat, anyway.”
“What? Surely you jest, Mister Cameron.”
“Afraid not.” Bryce finished chewing the tough meat. He slapped his thighs. His eyebrow rose. “By the way, lass, I don’t believe ye gave me yer name.”
“My name? Oh, yes, of course. My name is Lucy Lom—“ She paused and gnawed her lip. Perhaps it was best not to give her real name. The less he knew, the better off he would be. She continued, “Bard, Lucy Bard is my name.”
“All right, Lucy Bard. And where are ye goin’ exactly in England?”
“Well I must hasten to London.”
His eyes widened in disbelief. If Bryce had been a talker, he would surely have protested, but instead he shook his head.
For now Lucy was content with the quiet acceptance. As long as she continued on course, she would arrive in London in plenty of time.
Chapter Six
Bryce slept away from the fire, allowing Lucy to be close to the blaze and its warmth. He folded his arms for a pillow. A cool breeze blew, moving leaves and limbs. Stars overhead twinkled; the moon shone brightly. Bryce was at an impasse. Promises were meant to be kept. Indeed the young lass had asked for his help, and he had readily accepted, before he knew the extent of the agreement.
Home had been within his grasp. If he’d walked on and forgotten the bath, he might have been there by now. A roaring fire would have greeted him. Back slapping, well wishes, and fond words would have been spoken. The Cameron laird, his uncle Valan Cameron, would have welcomed him. A feast would have been thrown in his honor. News of Grant’s impending return would have soared within their breasts and brought smiles to their lips.
But instead he slept upon the cold, hard ground. A foreign woman berated him for his lack of food and funds. How long would it take him to travel to London and back home? How long could they go without supplies? How was he going to feed them and the horse?
With a sigh, Bryce rolled onto his side. Perhaps tomorrow would look more hopeful. At last sleep overcame him.
****
They traveled by foot the next day, allowing the horse to rest. An uncommon heat covered the land. Inside a small leather pouch which dangled from her wrist, Lucy carried everything she owned. Tucked neatly away was the Chinese dancing fan, called the Mai Ogi, made with slates of tortoise shell and covered in thick fabric.
Lucy fingered the fan and sighed. Charlie may have stolen her trunk and everything within, but in leaving behind the fan, he’d lost the most valuable object of all.
She waved the fan, generating a breeze against her flushed skin. How could she have been so stupid? Charlie had obviously been a nefarious character. Tall and gangly, his black hair combed to the right and greased into place, his pencil-thin mustache turned upwards at the corners. She had thought him debonair, dashing.
The man had talked continuously, like a braggart. The boasting should have been a dead giveaway to his character. Or at least his knowledge and adeptness at thievery should have caught her attention. But Lucy had turned a blind eye to these things. Charm and charisma had overridden her common sense.
“Miss, would ye like to ride now?”
Startled by the question, she answered, “What? Oh, aye. I would indeed.”
Bryce shifted the pack toward the horse’s hindquarters and smoothed a blanket over its back before helping her mount. Once she was in place, he