Mary Jo Putney by Sometimes a Rogue Page B

a brief conversation, Rob waved Sarah toward the barn, then entered the building. She hoped that meant he was buying some hot food.
    She led both horses into the barn, which was larger and less empty than the previous night’s accommodation. Three horses in stalls on the left whickered greetings as she put her two mounts into empty stalls opposite. She gave them water and hay, then lurched to the storage bin and collapsed into the golden straw.
    She thought the horses would be all right for a few minutes until Rob arrived to groom them. She should start on Boru, but she ached in every muscle, bone, joint, and a few places she didn’t know she had. Riding astride used some new muscles. Though she was a good rider, she’d never ridden as far as she’d done on this endless day. . . .
    She jerked awake when Rob announced, “Cabbage and potato soup, along with fresh bread, cheese, and ale.” He set a tray on the floor beside her. “Do you have the energy to eat?”
    “Have you ever seen me turn down food?” Smothering a yawn, she sat up in the straw and crossed her legs. Rob had rubbed down their horses before waking her, she saw. That meant they could concentrate on their supper.
    He settled on the floor with his back against a wall and his long legs stretched out in front of himself before pouring steaming soup from the jug into two pewter bowls. He handed her one along with a spoon, then poured ale into pewter mugs from a similar jug. “The lady of the house was generous to weary travelers.”
    “God bless her!” Sarah wolfed down her meal, not speaking until she’d sopped up the last of the soup with her bread. As she wiped her hands with a clump of straw, she said ruefully, “I’m sorry for my lack of manners, but I was ravenous.”
    “You should be after all that riding.” Rob sliced the remaining cheese in half and handed a piece to her. “You have the stamina of a cavalryman.”
    “I love riding, and I did a lot of it trying to keep up with my boy cousins.” Her brow furrowed. “I’ve only just thought to wonder why we haven’t gone to the authorities for help. Is it because you don’t know who might be a rebel sympathizer?”
    “That’s part of the reason,” Rob replied. “There are many anti-British groups, so we might not find much support. We might even be handed back to Free Eire.”
    Sarah grimaced. “That’s not a happy thought. But now that I’ve seen some of the country, I understand better why so many of the Irish want independence.”
    “If I lived here, I’d join the United Irishmen myself. It’s a moderate group that draws from all parts of society,” Rob said. “But since we’re English, I think it wise to steer clear of anything political. There are troops in Dublin and a naval installation at Cobh in Cork Harbor, but if we get that far, we won’t need them. If we did find military protectors, all chance of keeping your abduction quiet would vanish. Getting you home safely is the first priority, but keeping your reputation intact is also to be desired.”
    Sarah blinked. “I hadn’t thought of that. At my age, reputation isn’t as important as it is for younger girls.”
    His brows arched. “You’re hardly at your last prayers, and you look just out of the schoolroom. Even if you don’t care greatly about your reputation, surely you don’t want everyone in Britain to know you were kidnapped by a band of louts. The story is lurid enough to begin with. By the time the gossips finished embellishing it, you’d be so notorious that you’d never live it down.”
    She shuddered. “You’re right. I would much prefer to avoid that.”
    “Where were you raised? I know the general outlines of your background, but not the details.” Rob divided the remaining ale between their mugs, then leaned back against the wall, one knee drawn up.
    Sarah loved looking at him—all long, lean power, with broad shoulders and deft hands. He hadn’t shaved in days. She guessed that was