Free Never Less Than a Lady by Mary Jo Putney

“Not being able to ride was one of the hardest parts about running away. I had the sweetest mare…” She bit off her words and patted the neck of her staid, unpretentious gelding. “In Hartley I had a pony cart, but I couldn’t afford a riding hack.”
    “You still have light hands and an excellent seat.”
    “Perhaps, but I guarantee that when we stop for the night, I’ll be aching in places I’ve forgotten I have!” she said ruefully.
    He grinned. “We must hope for a shop that sells liniment.”
    She smiled back, but was reminded that he would be aching far more than she. They both fell silent as the afternoon wore on endlessly.
    The sun was descending when they approached a low stone toll bridge that led into a town. “Welcome to Scotland and Gretna Green,” Randall said. “I understand there’s a marrying room in the tollhouse for those who don’t want to wait to get all the way into town.”
    “You’re joking!” Julia glanced at her companion. “No, I see you aren’t. Some couples must be very impatient indeed.”
    “For a scoundrel who wants to secure an heiress before her guardians can rescue her, the sooner the better.” Randall paid their toll and they rode forward. “We still have a couple of hours of daylight. There’s a village about five miles north with two coaching inns. If you’re game to ride farther, we can spend the night and hire a carriage for the rest of our trip.”
    Stifling the impulse to whimper that she wanted a bed and she wanted it now, Julia said, “If it puts more distance between me and Crockett, I can manage.”
    He smiled. “Good lass.”
    “Your speech is turning Scottish now that you’re north of the border,” she said, amused. “This is my first visit to Scotland, even though I’ve lived so close. So far, it looks much like Northern England.”
    “Except that here, you can become married by declaring your intention before two witnesses,” he pointed out. “What a difference a border makes.”
    Glad they were waiting for Edinburgh to marry, she studied the famous blacksmith’s shop in the town center as they rode by. “This is where so many marriages take place? I’ve never understood the custom of having a blacksmith perform the ceremony over his anvil.”
    “Kirkland says it’s because a blacksmith joins two pieces of metal into one.” Randall replied. “As marriage is supposed to join a man and a woman.”
    She studied Randall from the corner of her eye. Remote, handsome, controlled. A man to be reckoned with. Would he and she ever be joined as thoroughly as the molten metal that caused two separate pieces to become one? That closeness with a near stranger seemed impossible now.
    Yet in the past day she had come to accept him as a protector. In time, perhaps he might seem like a husband.

Chapter 9
    The five miles to the next village felt longer. By the time they reached their destination, Julia ached all over. “We’ve earned a good night’s rest in a proper bed.”
    “We have indeed.”
    Randall’s face was as weary as hers must be. Thankfully an old stone inn called the King’s Arms was on the left. They rode together into the courtyard. Creaking in every joint, Julia dismounted from her sidesaddle as soon as the gelding halted.
    Randall swung from his horse. When he touched ground, his right leg crumpled under him. He swore and grabbed his mount to stay upright.
    “Randall!” Julia threw her reins at the approaching ostler and darted to his side. To her horror, she saw that the right thigh of his buckskins was saturated with blood.
    Head bent, he panted, “Just…a piece of shrapnel cutting its way loose.”
    And he had been riding with that? Idiot man! To the ostler, she said, “Take care of the horses and bring our luggage in when you can.”
    She drew Randall’s arm over her shoulders. “Can you make it into the inn?”
    “Give me…a moment.” After a dozen harsh breaths, he raised his head. “You’re too small to be a