A streak of lightening coursed across the sky, and a rolling clap of thunder followed behind like a wrathful growl. Threatening clouds covered the dark sky, blocking out any light from moon or stars. The air had turned cold and unwelcoming, and she was alone.



She didn't know how far she had ridden before she lost control. Something had startled her horse—probably the way she was bouncing around in the saddle like a bobble. She couldn't recall all the details, but somehow, she'd been on the ground, her legs still tangled in the saddle.

Honestly, the working class were so unreliable these days! That foolish stablehand hadn't tightened the girth properly. Incompetent fools, the whole lot of them! She could do their jobs better than they did any day of the week.

Perhaps not today. She thought to herself ruefully. Or tomorrow. She added, wincing at the pain in her leg and back as she walked. It could have been worse, though, she reminded herself. Sally McMillan had fallen from her horse right before she had her first season. She was still alive, but a part of her had died in the fall. She wasn't fully connected in her mind any longer.

It must have been dinner time at least an hour ago, and Cassandra's stomach growled fiercely. She was lightheaded and tired. In the fall, her sense of direction—whatever that was—had been muddled, and unsure where she was in relation to Fergus Manor, she had begun to walk in what seemed the most sensible course.

At this moment, however, she was beginning to doubt whether that had been a wise idea. Surely, if she had gone the correct way, she would have come upon the manor house by now. What if—

She squashed the fear rising in the pit of her stomach. Grinding her teeth together, she pushed herself to go faster. Increasing her speed only brought more pain to her injured foot, though, and she had to bite her tongue to keep from crying out. She was going to find her way, and she was going to report that insufferable servant to Charles and Irene.

Unlike sweet Lavinia, her anger would not be extinguished or dulled by the passing of time. The longer she was forced to limp along, the more forceful her anger became. It was the one clear thing in her muddled head. Oh, how she would love to have that. . .that impossible man here where she could give him everything she had and more. That would be satisfying.

Just as she was beginning to wonder if she would pass the night exposed to the elements, a cluster of lights appeared. As she drew nearer, she could make out a little village, and her heart swelled with pride. She had made it, and she had done it on her own. Here, there would be someone to assist her and return her to the manor, or she would find a place to take shelter for the night.

Her pace quickened despite the pain it caused. She was sure she would find warm food and a bed for the night in the safety of the village. Someone would help her.

Large drops of rain began to spill from the sky just as she reached the muddy streets. There were a few lights on, but she didn't see an inn. An innkeeper would be the most helpful person to go to. They would know everyone in town, and they would also provide food of some sort.

She shivered as she stepped into the glow of one of the lights, inspecting her surroundings and trying to decide what to do next. She bit her lip as a door opened further up the street and a man staggered outside. The sound of raucous laughter and heavily slurred speech informed her what sort of establishment the building was.

The man swayed slightly and began to sing loudly. Cassandra averted her gaze, surveying the rows of buildings a second time. There had to be somewhere she could take shelter from the pouring rain.

Suddenly, she realized the singing had stopped, and when she looked up the street, she caught sight of the intoxicated man staring brazenly at her. At that moment, she remembered a warning Ethan and Lavinia had issued. The people here—most especially the men—aren't what you're used to. They're course and simple, and they're not above taking certain. . .liberties. Seeing beauty of any kind. . .excites them. Just be careful. Knowing you're English upper class will only draw more attention, and it won't be the curious-get-to-know-you-better attention. Then there had been the incident of the ogling males in the village near the Brodi cottage. Eliza had taken to going to market alone after that.

A shiver of apprehension shot down the length of her spine, and she blinked quickly, suddenly far more alert to her surroundings. The man had disappeared. She wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not, but she knew she needed to decide what she was going to do quickly.

True, she could knock on a door, but a Scotsman, who was interrupted from his evening, would not be a compassionate, favorable Scotsman. She had learned quickly that the rumors of the temperamental Scotch were not groundless. At this hour, all the respectable establishments would be closed, and there were no inns to be seen. What was left?

A boot grated against gravel, and she whirled about to face the sound. Four men were moving out of an alleyway, their eyes looking her up and down with appreciation. A twinge of fear snaked through her, and she was frozen in place, unsure how to proceed.

"Weel, what hae we here?" One of them said, his voice unusually high-pitched. "A wee lassie out in ta rain?" His words were not unintelligible, so he was obviously not entirely drunk.

"'Twould seem ole' Mac was speakin' ta truth, lads." Another grinned. "But he n'ver mentioned she was this spritely." They spread out, moving closer.

Cassandra's heartbeat increased rapidly. One of them could have overpowered her without blinking an eye, but three of them. . .she didn't stand a chance. Besides, they were fueled by alcohol, and she was defenseless.

Ignoring the screaming hot pain that coursed through her, she spun on her heal and ran. . .smack into the arms of a large, smelly man. A scream of shock escaped her lips, but there was no one to hear her, no one to care. Around her the men laughed.

"Well, well, well, looks loch I'll hae th' first go, laddies." She felt the voice rumble from deep in the man's chest. One of his hands moved freely down her back, past her waist, and caressed her backside.

Anger more than fear raged through her head. "Get your filthy hands off me." She said, her voice low and each word uttered distinctly, so there would be no doubt that they heard and understood her.

A chorus of laughter filled the air around her.

"She's a feisty, wee one, i'n't she?" One of them chuckled. "It be moor than I cood 'ave 'oped fur! There be naught of fun in havin' a wench what's easy. Gie them tae me kickin' an' fightin'!" The statement produced another round of laughter.

"'main 'en, Rob, dornt go hauldin' her all tae yerself. We've not yet decided who'll be th' first." Another voice griped.

The arms around her—apparently belonging to Rob—loosened but didn't drop. Now would be her only chance. Drawing a breath, she lashed out like a wild animal, kicking and hitting and scratching with all that was in her.

Apparently, her captors had been expecting such an outburst. Rough hands grabbed hold of her, pinning her arms to her sides, and someone struck her hard enough to make her vision dance. Then she felt herself being dragged, and the streetlight faded into the darkness of night.

They were toying with her, degrading her. One of them could have easily lifted her, but they chose to pull her through the mud like a dead animal. Muddy water splashed into her face, stinging her eyes, but someone gripping her wrists with ironlike strength, so she couldn't even wipe away the grime.

She shut her eyes against her surroundings. Never had she hated a place more. Never, not even in Robert Smithers's grasp, had she felt so helpless. One by one, they would take her until they'd had their fill, and then they would leave her, and there was nothing she could do to change it.

No, today is not Saturday. I was feeling really good about being able to get another chapter up yesterday. I was, in fact, pretty excited about it, but thing after thing came up to prevent me from doing so. Sorry to those of you who waited in vain!!!! I'll make it up to you; I promise!! I'm going to post a chapter on Wednesday and Saturday of this week!! How's that sound??

Also, this chapter isn't doesn't contain all the material I had originally planned it to contain, because some plot points changed, and I decided to alter how the chapters went. Sorry if this wasn't what you were looking for in another chapter, but I think you'll forgive me soon. . .I hope so, anyway. . . Well, happy reading, peeps! See you soon!