Free The Laird's Forbidden Lady by Ann Lethbridge

tight, then.’
    She grasped the stallion’s mane. Ian took a few steps at a run, then leapt up behind her. Impressive.
    The sound of men in heavy boots echoed off the gully walls along with curses as they slipped and slid on the tricky path.
    ‘Time we were gone.’ He leaned forwards and they were off.
    The feel of his hard thighs cradling her buttocks was positively indecent. So was his arm around her waist. But locked in that strong embrace, she felt perfectly safe, when she should be feeling terrified.
    A cry went up behind them. The Revenue men must have heard the beat of the horse’s hooves on the sand. It also meant they weren’t far behind, but a man on foot was no match for this horse, even carrying two riders.
    She set the horse’s head towards the zigzagging path at the other end of the cove. A gentler climb up to the headland. They were halfway there, when a stream of men poured onto the beach from that direction.
    ‘A pincer movement,’ Ian yelled. ‘That’s how they meant to catch us.’ He yanked the horse’s head around. The beast turned in a circle while Ian scanned the cliffs and the men coming at them at a run from both sides at once.
    ‘Look’s like we’ve only one option,’ he yelled. ‘Keep your head down.’ He set the horse running at the sea.
    Her mouth dried. Her heart thundered. What could he be thinking? They’d drown. From horseback, the sand looked very far away. Too far to jump off. At this speed there was nothing she could do but hang on.
    The wind whipped her hair out of its pins and it flew wild in her eyes. She leaned low over the horse’s neck so Ian could see where they were going.
    Where were they going?
    Surf splashed up around them. Ian didn’t slow the horse’s pace. The water hit her face like icy needles and soaked her legs through the clinging fabric of her skirts and then the wool fabric of her knee breeches all the way to her waist. She gasped.
    A howl of dismay went up from the men running after them.
    ‘Load.’ The terrifying shout came from the behind them. They were going to shoot!
    The horse tried to turn back as its feet lost contact with solid ground.
    Ian slid from its back into the water. ‘Come on, Beau,’ Ian yelled. ‘It’s all right, lad.’ The horse’s ears pointed forwards, its body low in the water, its breathing fast and laboured.
    A volley from the beach kicked up spurts of water all around them. Selina closed her eyes, waiting for the pain. Nothing.
    ‘Hang on,’ Ian shouted. ‘We are nigh out of range.’ He struck out strongly, with the horse trailing behind. Laying along the stallion’s back, her skirts a tangle around her legs, Selina clung to the horse’s neck for dear life. Waves hit her in the face with a salt-laden slap, making her gasp and blink to clear her stinging eyes. It was impossible that this horse could swim very far.
    Another volley. Selina glanced over her shoulder to see the waterspouts a few feet behind and, if her eyes weren’t deceiving her, the men were already waist-deep in the sea. Surely they didn’t stand a chance of hitting them now. She prayed she was right and concentrated on holding on to the pitching beast.
    Ian slowed and swam alongside. ‘Come on,old fellow, you can do it.’ He directed the horse to swim parallel to the shore, heading south.
    How Ian kept swimming in such chilly water she didn’t know. Her hands and legs were numb, her teeth chattering. She tried to remember how far it was to the next beach and wondered if they would get there before they drowned. Or perished from cold.
    It might be better to drown than be caught with a known smuggler. Father would never forgive her and even the placid Dunstan would never marry her.
    When she’d finally found the perfect man and plucked up the courage to take the matrimonial plunge, she’d ended up up to her neck in the sea instead.
    She just had to make it home without anyone finding out.

Chapter Six
    T he cold seeped into Ian’s