With her hair held out of the way, I had a perfect view of the smooth skin where her neck met her shoulder. I had such an overwhelming urge to kiss that soft skin that I actually had to pinch myself.

  She’s your captive, for goodness’ sake. You can’t be having those kinds of thoughts about her!

  I took a deep, calming breath. It had simply been too long since I saw to my needs. A woman like me would ruin a delicate thing like her.

  The last of the laces fell away and I stepped back to let her disentangle herself from her dress. After what seemed like an age, she stood before me in no more than a thin, white chemise and stockings.

  She stood awkwardly with her arms around herself, shielding her breasts, before she scurried to the bed and pulled the sheets over herself. I swallowed at the sight of her long, shapely legs.

  I resisted the urge to pace in the too-small room. Instead, I sat on the edge of the bed, clenching my fists. I’d severely underestimated the logistics of this adventure and now I was stuck with her. Victoria. I plucked at my shirt that was sticking to my suddenly clammy skin.

  “If you won’t eat, then you should at least get some sleep,” I muttered, taking the rope from the pocket of my trousers.

  Her eyes widened and she instinctively pulled the sheets tighter around herself. “Must you?”

  “I don’t particularly like the idea of my bounty slipping away in the night or trying to kill me in my sleep so yes, yes I must. Give me your hands.”

  She scowled at me but did indeed thrust her hands out towards me without further argument.

  I wrapped the thin rope around her wrists and checked that it was not too tight before tying off the ends to the bedpost. She had enough slack that she could bring her hands down to chest-height and could roll over if she wanted to, but she wasn’t leaving the bed.

  I fished her blindfold out of my pocket. Her face fell and she looked like she were about to fight me on it.

  “Don’t start,” I said before she could open her mouth.

  The fabric was knotted snugly around her eyes before she could muster any protests, but I saw a muscle twitch in her jaw as she considered it.

  With my captive’s eyes covered once more, I could safely remove my mask. Even the stale air in the room felt heavenly after being trapped behind the stifling leather for hours on end. I scrubbed my face with the sleeve of my shirt before I shucked it off along with my trousers and hung them up next to Victoria’s mass of flouncy petticoats by the hearth.

  How can anyone wear those things?

  Even with the dwindling fire, I shivered as I shed my clothing. In my line of work, threats could appear at a moment’s notice, so I was very rarely fully unclothed. Tonight would be the first night in a long time that I went to sleep even partially undressed. I didn’t like it. Not when I was in unfamiliar territory with a valuable prize in tow.

  I set the tray of food on the floor and wedged the table sideways against the door, glaring at it as I did so. It would buy me precious seconds if anything untoward were to occur during the night. I had been in plenty of situations where a few seconds were the difference between life and death.

  A few seconds and my whole life could’ve turned out differently. A few seconds and I could’ve had a life.

  ——

  “Can you take him for a few days?” Martha whispered as the babe in her arms finally relented in his cries and gave in to sleep. “He has been keeping John up and he’s a working man. He needs his rest.”

  “A few days?” I asked in alarm.

  “Please,” she said, pushing the swaddled infant into my arms. A tuft of the boy’s dark hair that he’d inherited from his father peeked out from the blankets. “Just for a while. You’re so good with him and he loves his Auntie Bea.”

  Martha was thinner than I had seen her, and the dark circles under her eyes were thankfully just from a lack of sleep herself, but they still worried me.

  “Yes, of course but—”

  The slamming of the kitchen door interrupted my words. Her face drew pale.

  “Tell me you are alright,” I demanded, standing as tall as I could at fourteen years old.

  Her smile broke my already tender heart as she lied to me. “Of course I am, Bea. I’ll always be alright.”

  ——

  The bread and cheese tasted like nothing as I shoveled it into my mouth, then washed the dryness away with large gulps of equally tasteless ale. As much as I told myself there was no use dwelling on the past, it was always there lurking at the edges of my thoughts—waiting for a chink in my armor. A little fatigue, hunger, or pain and it would descend on me like a flock of crows eager to strip the skin from my bones.

  Those dark memories stalked my dreams and I was powerless to stop them.

  I drained the last of the ale, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand again, before rounding the bed. I flopped down on the hard mattress beside the countess.

  “What are you doing?” she blurted.

  Her head snapped towards me, probably with a blistering glare beneath the fabric of her blindfold.

  “What do you mean, what am I doing? I’m going to sleep.”

  “I am not going to share a bed with you,” she said, outraged. “Get out!”

  “I paid for this bed, and I’m going to sleep in it. But by all means, you’re welcome to sleep somewhere else if you wish.”

  “You know fine well that I cannot,” she snarled, yanking on the rope I had bound her with.

  “Then it seems we’re at an impasse.”

  “I hate you,” she muttered as I settled myself next to her.

  “I know.” I leaned over to blow out the candle. “Sleep well, buttercup.”

  Chapter Ten

  The Highwaywoman

  Even before the first rays of sun peeked above the horizon, I was up, dressed and shaking the countess awake. My eyes were gritty with tiredness. I couldn’t begrudge her the hostility she sent my way when I roused her. Sleep had only toyed with me. I regretted not simply riding through the night.

  Mask in place and Countess Edmunton’s dress laced up haphazardly, we crept from the inn before the first risers stirred. Any other time, I would’ve either taken back my coin for the heinously overpriced room or helped myself to valuables of equal price as a matter of principle. Today, I had neither the time nor the luxury of solitude to peruse. I bit back the bitterness as I swiped a single bruised apple from a bowl on the shelf. Just because I was out of pocket didn’t mean Chip had to go without.

  Countess Edmunton seemed to thankfully pick up on the fact that I was in a thunderous mood and not to be messed with. She even meekly nodded when I promised her that if she threw herself off the horse again, I’d break her legs. She watched in silence as I fed Chip his apple.

  I refrained from my customary cooing and simply stroked the white diamond on his forehead. If he’d been hurt, I would’ve torn every single man there to pieces and probably gotten myself killed for it. Amongst outlaws, we had a code. Cold-blooded murder was forbidden, even if justified. It would’ve been worth it, though.

  I must’ve let my thoughts show somehow because Countess Edmunton actually looked at me with concern when I turned to hoist her onto Chip’s back.

  “Are you well?” she asked as I clambered up behind her.

  “Perfectly well. Mind your own business,” I snapped.

  Either she was intimidated into silence, or she was simply too tired to fight me because she didn’t speak again, even when I fastened the blindfold over her eyes once more. I suspected the latter as her head rolled against my chest and her breathing deepened and slowed after just a half hour’s ride. Having her fall asleep right there in my arms made something akin to pride flutter inside me—like when the flea-bitten mangey cats that hung around our camp chose to sit with me over anyone else. This time, however, the feeling was accompanied by an uncomfortable tightness squeezing my ribs.

  No, this won’t do. This won’t do at all. My need for companionship be damned, I need this money more.

  I grit my teeth and dug my heels into Chip’s flank, chiding him to go faster.

  The jostling woke her immediately. She jolted upright with an unladylike snort of surprise.

  “What’s going on?” Her voice was thick and groggy.

  “Making better time,” I replied through clenched teeth.

  She hummed a non-committal sound and sank back against me. The tightness in my chest twisted again. There was no getting away from her. I’d just have to endure this until we were back at camp. Then I could pawn her off on someone else and retreat to the blissful peace of my own cabin. It wouldn’t be long now.

  Our little patch of heaven in the forests really was just that. A haven for all us wretches with blackened hearts and bloodstained hands, hidden from the outside world and beholden only unto laws that we made ourselves. In theory anyway.

  In reality, it was a pit of depravity that I counted the days I could escape from.

  I longed to forgo the ritual of presenting our spoils to our leader and just run back to my cabin to shut out the outside world and fall into my creaky old bed for a few hours of blessed unconsciousness, but that wasn’t how things were done. I had to report to Fang.

  “You could still honor our deal and let me go.”

  I jumped at the sound of the countess’ voice and quickly disguised it by clearing my throat. I thought she’d fallen asleep again.

  “We never made a deal. You made a deal in your head and assumed I agreed to it.”

  “You let me believe we had a deal. A lie of omission is still a lie.”

  “Don’t sulk. It’s unladylike,” I chided. “Besides, it’s your own fault we’re here.”

  “Ah yes. My fault you decided to kidnap me.” I could hear the eyeroll in her petulant tone.

  “Of course. You convinced me, after all.”

  “I did not!”

  “It’s common sense. Why the devil would I do what you wanted for nothing in return? That’s not how the world works, buttercup.” I grinned. “Although it’s quite enjoyable, watching the high and mighty realize that their inflated sense of self is just that. And that us common folk don’t give a rat’s arse about them unless we are paid to.”

  “If you despise me so, then release me.”

  “If you can pay your own double ransom, then I’d be gladly rid of you.”

  “You are awful.”

  “Life is awful. Get used to it. Or at least put up with it until I can be rid of you and you become someone else’s problem.”

  “Oh, how terrible for you to be inflicted with my company. If only there were a simple and immediate solution.” I was certain that had she not been blindfolded, she’d have been batting her eyelashes.

  I was glad she couldn’t see the corners of my mouth twitch as I fought a smile. It’d been a while since I’d engaged with anyone with remotely sharpened wits, and I was in danger of warming to her.

  “Very amusing. You’re either going home to your new husband or you’re going in a shallow grave because I’ve had enough of your complaints. Honestly, I pity the man you are to marry.”

  “You would not, had you knowledge of his true character. If you had, then you would aid me.”

  “I don’t help anyone unless I’m paid.”

  The memories of the last time I tried to help someone out of the goodness of my heart was a painful, blackened thing that I kept in the furthest recesses of my mind. I only brought them out when I felt like hating myself a little more than usual.

  “What a sad way to live your life.”

  “Shut up.” I brought Chip to a stop. “We’re here.”

  The village had started out as a camp of necessity with canvas tents, fire pits, and not much else. By the time I became a permanent resident, low one-story wooden homes had been constructed with thick thatch roofs that were so mossy that they blended almost seamlessly into the background of trees and ferns. I’d lived in one of the larger cabins and bunked with around ten others before winning myself a bit of status and reputation. My current role allowed me my own cabin—nothing fancy but still a safe place to call mine.

  For all her bravado, the countess was trembling like a leaf as I helped her down and led her through the shacks. Even though she lifted her chin and held her head high, her breathing was uneven as she fought to stay calm. Her head jerked in the direction of every tiny sound, and the trembling in her shoulders intensified.

  “Just do as I say,” I whispered to her. “You’ll be fine.”

  “What is this place? Where have you brought me, villain?”

  I grit my teeth.

  So much for trying to comfort her.

  “Let me rephrase, just do as I say and keep your mouth shut.” I squeezed her elbow in warning. “Then you’ll be fine.”

  For all her indignation, when the sound of voices reached us, the countess clung to me for dear life. I frowned in amusement.

  Better the devil you know, I suppose. Once upon a time, I’d never have considered myself a devil. How time flies.

  “Come on,” I said more to myself than to her as I strode towards Fang’s cabin.

  The door was already ajar when we approached. That felt like a bad sign. His was by far the biggest of all the structures in our pathetic excuse for a village and one of the few that didn’t leak when it rained. Even with the door propped open, the roaring fire inside enveloped us in warmth as I towed the countess across the threshold.

  Fang’s home had the most lived-in feel to it of all of the cabins. He was usually found in his high-backed armchair that he would love to be a throne even if it was tattered and faded.

  We didn’t call him such, but he was our king in every sense of the word. All he lacked was the crown. He set the laws and dealt harsh rulings over whoever saw fit to break them. He protected us, provided for us, gave us purpose. He organized our raids and jobs and dealt out supplies so that all of us could eat and be warm.

  And I loathed him with every fiber of my being.

  His long dark hair, balding at the crown, hung in rat tails about his sneering face. He’d once been a burly, imposing man but he was now going distinctly plump around the middle. His body may have softened, but the man himself had not. Even if he hadn’t been out on a job in many years and his beard was streaked in grey, his cruelty was always fresh.

  Fang’s smile didn’t meet his eyes. They vowed retribution if this didn’t work out in his favor. His soulless eyes raked over mine and the countess’ dishevelment, over the mud that streaked both our clothing as if daring me to admit that I’d bitten off more than I could chew. I lifted my chin.

  I was playing with fire, and he would love to watch me burn.

  Chapter Eleven

  The Countess

  The air around me changed from the cool freshness of the forest to close and smoky as the highwaywoman brought me into some sort of dwelling. The floor under my feet was wooden and then a softer carpet or rug. My fingers twitched, desperate to rip the blindfold from my eyes and see where I was.

  We were not alone, that much was clear from the mutterings and throat clearings that came from all sides. My mind conjured horrid images of bands of blood-thirsty outlaws just waiting to get their hands on me.

  My captor’s hand on my arm was steady and, despite my hatred for her, I found myself pressing myself into her side.

  “You took your time, Bea.” The deep drawl grated like nails down a board.

  I suppressed the urge to wince.

  “I was starting to think you weren’t coming back to us at all.”

  “Encountered some unexpected surprises, but I come bearing gifts,” the highwaywoman replied.

  Bea…that must be her name.

  I strained my ears to decipher what was occurring. It sounded like she was handing something over. Most likely my jewels and the pearl-handled pistols meant for Lord Farrelworth.

  I jumped when the male voice spoke again.

  “Young Charlie informed me of your…change of plans.”

  “It’ll be well worth it,” the highwaywoman—Bea—replied, with an air of casualness that did not match the tightening of her grip on my arm. Whoever this man was, he was most certainly in charge. And Bea did not like him. “I already got what I went for plus the extra.”

  My heart stuttered.

  I must be the ‘extra’ to which she is referring.

  A scraping of a chair being pulled back and then heavy footsteps met my ears.

  “Let’s have a look at you then,” the man said gruffly.

  A hand landed on my shoulder so heavily that my knees almost buckled.

  Bea’s fingers tightened on my arm. For one fleeting moment of madness, I thought that she was not going to let go and the two of them were going to have a tug-of-war over me.

  But whatever silent battle was waged in those few moments, she apparently lost. She released me and the grip on my shoulder was used to steer me across the room. If I could have held onto her, I probably would have. She was awful and horrible, and I hated her, but I could think of far worse possibilities.

  From the sudden warmth and merry crackling, I deduced that I must have been brought closer to the fire. Hands at my face had me suppressing a yelp but they only unfastened my blindfold. I blinked blearily in the sudden light.

  I was in a cabin as I suspected, fire blazing in the hearth, ruthless criminals on all sides, eying me like I was a prime side of meat in a butcher’s shop. I did not have more than a second to examine my surroundings before my chin was grasped and my face turned towards the light. The greasy man in front of me was huge. The eyes that scrutinized my features held no compassion as they assessed my worth. The stench of sour wine and stale smoke rolled off of him in nauseating waves. I balled my hands into fists to stop myself from stepping back lest he take that as a sign of fear rather than revulsion. I was afraid, there was no denying that, but the need to breathe untainted air was, in that moment, the stronger of my emotions.

  “Countess Edmunton,” he purred. “Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Fang. Welcome to my humble abode.”