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why. The woman hadn’t been feigning madness to annoy the baron, she did it to keep him and his men away.
    He looked down at her huddled form hovering near his leg. She was scared of everyone. Everyone except him.
    Without taking the time to explore why she had selected him for protection, Cole reached down and hauled her thin frame onto the section of saddle between his groin and the pommel. He could feel her back stiffen as he squeezed her tightly so that she couldn’t speak. He yanked out his broadsword and pointed it at the baron. “Do not look to Scotland again to solve your problems. If you do, you shall be doing it at the end of a sword.”
    Grabbing his horse’s reins, Cole swung his mount around and entered the forest enveloping the Cheviot Hills and the keep. The woman grabbed the mane of his horse to steady herself and looked back at him. He thought for a moment she was going to beg to be returned, but instead she pointed her finger at the nervous baron behind him and shouted, “May you and my sister get all that you deserve!”
    “Be silent,” Cole ordered as he began to weave in and out the trees.
    Ellenor straightened her shoulders. “Or what? You’ll make me walk?”
    “Considering how bad you smell, that suggestion has its advantages, but I would rather endure your stench than stay any longer on English soil. So that leaves—”
    “Do not pass me off to one of your men,” Ellenor spat. Her eyes sought his, seeking reassurance but also warning him of the hell she would bring if he tried to make her ride with anyone else.
    “Gagging,” Cole clarified. “I will gag you, babag , until we reach our destination. Be silent and don’t tempt me further.”
    He glanced down at her to make sure she understood. Hot, furious tears brimmed in her eyes. “My name is Ellenor. Ellenor Howell,” she said through clenched teeth, ignoring his warning.
    For a brief moment, Cole thought she might have understood his Gaelic insult for her hazel eyes had flashed bright green with recognition and pain. But then her expression turned cold as she issued him a challenging smile. Gesturing to the horizon just becoming visible between the tree limbs, she snickered, “Your precious homeland is beyond those large hills, and the sun will soon set. So I hope you can ride as well as I reek, Scot.”
    Then with the skill of someone who had ridden horses all her life, she swung a leg over the horse’s neck and sat on the saddle astride, reducing their physical contact.
    Her regal defiance surprised him, and Cole found himself intrigued. She was unpredictable, spirited, and most of all…a survivor. He had seen it in her eyes. This woman had endured pain and persevered.
    He met her smile with one of his own. “Are you challenging me, lass?” He laughed and flicked the reins. “Because I do love a challenge.”

Chapter 2

    Ellenor was furious. And mostly at herself.
    Halfway up the slope of Windy Gyle, she made a silent vow never to assume anything again about the dark-haired Scot holding her hostage. The knoll was nothing special in of itself. Grass-covered and rounded, it was one of the bigger hills of Cheviot, but definitely not the largest. In less than a half an hour, they would be passing its summit. And by doing so, the small group would no longer be in England, but in Scotland…just as the arrogant hulk had promised.
    Practically the moment Durchent Hall and her weasel of a brother-in-law had disappeared from sight, the gait of the group changed to an aggressive lope that made her pulse skitter. For a short while, Ellenor feared she would fall to her death. The mount the Scot rode was enormous, just like he was, and it didn’t seem possible the large animal could be agile enough to safely traverse the deceptive hills. But as one possible travesty after another was averted, Ellenor could no longer delude herself into believing the Scot’s accurate riding was from luck. The man was highly skilled. Moreover, at the