The Border Hostage Read Free Page A

daughter.
    “We do not want him to
like
you, we want him to
marry
you. No gentleman wants a wife with a sharp tongue and a defiant, willful nature. If you do not change your ways— and your attitude—your sister Lark will make a good marriage long before you do.”
    “I love Lark; don't pit us against each other.”
    “What a wicked accusation. Seek your room!”
    As dawn turned the sky to pale gold, Raven felt her spirits begin to lift. She breathed in the salt tang as if it were the elixir of life, as Sully's galloping hooves dug into the sandy shale along the shore. The pique she felt toward her mother melted away, and the corners of her generous mouth lifted. Raven knew she was willful, with a temper of fire, and admitted that her mother only wanted what was best for her. Her mother had been plain Kate Heron until she made a good marriage and became the wife of Sir Lancelot Carleton, the constable of Carlisle Castle. The Herons were an English Border clan, and it had been nothing short of a miracle to Kate when she had snared an English gentleman in the matrimonial trap. Now Katherine expected both of her daughters to “marry up” and elevate their social status, as she had done. She never tired of warning her girls about Borderers. “Look at my brother and male cousins, uncouth uncivilized louts the lot of them! All Borderers are alike: dark, dominant, overbold, swaggering swine, and a danger to every female they encounter!”
    Raven knew her mother would be ecstatic if a marriage could be arranged with Christopher Dacre, son and heir of Lord Thomas Dacre, Head Border Warden of the English Marches. Christopher had been educated in London and had come north less than a year ago to fight with his regiment at Flodden, where the uncivilized Scots had been brought to their knees once and for all.
    Raven smiled her secret smile. The union did not displease her; moreover, she would be in Carlisle next week as a guest of the Dacres. She lifted her head and exulted in the feel of the wind whipping her hair about her shoulders and her skirt about her bare legs. Anticipation bubbled up inside her—she would lead Chris Dacre on a merry chase!

C HAPTER 2
    H eath Kennedy opened his eyes and saw the stars above him fading with the dawn.
So, I am not dead after all
, he thought,
only half dead by the feel of it!
He lay still, drawing power and warmth from the earth into his hard, well-muscled body, and willed himself to stop shivering. Earth healing was an old Celtic belief. He moved his long, powerful legs apart and stretched out his arms with the palms flat on the ground so that his body formed a pentagram, or five-pointed star. He closed his eyes, breathed deeply, and tried to merge with the earth's energy. He sensed its pulsations and matched his breathing to the rhythm of nature. Slowly he became one with the earth and rocks upon which he lay, taking the power of nature into his own body and absorbing the beat of life.
    Heath did not know how long he lay there, but gradually he felt the pulse strengthen until he could actually hear it pounding. He opened his eyes and rolled over onto his stomach as he suddenly realized that it was hoofbeats he could hear!
    Heath Kennedy caught his breath as he saw a girl riding like the wind along the shore. As he focused his whole attention upon her, the aches and pains of his body diminished. The girl's beautiful black hair streamed out behind her like a proud banner, and it was obvious that she had a free spirit and loved nature as much as he did. She rode bareback and seemed not to know, or care, that her skirt had ridden up to expose her long, bare legs. He took her for a Gypsy girl, yet he was sure he did not know her. Such a female would be unforgettable.
    Heath got to his knees, then slowly, without taking his eyes from the rider, he stood up. He knew she saw him, for she suddenly tossed her head and urged her mount to a reckless speed. Her black Border pony was surefooted and bred