"Do you have any idea where you are going?" she asked as he turned off the Market Road."I know exactly where I'm going. I traveled all these roads as a lad.""You went all the way to Scotland?" she asked skeptically.He shot her a glance that told her louder than words how much he appreciated her doubts.Still, she had to suggest, "I think you should slow down.""Don't worry. I'm quite a hand with the reins. We'll be in Scotland before you can blink.""If we don't break our necks," she muttered, and he laughed."Then we'll go happy," he pronounced.Rosalyn wasn't ready to "go" at all, and yet, it was rather exhilarating. No one was on the roads. They were all at home in their beds, and she could imagine herself and the colonel the only ones alive.

An owl swooped down from a tree and glided across their path. Moonlight silvered his wings, and he appeared almost bewitched.

"Your horse doesn't seem to tire," she observed after they had traveled a while at a bruising pace.

"Oscar," he answered.

"I beg your pardon?"

"His name is Oscar. I bought him for ten pounds from a Portuguese peasant, and he is the most noblehorse I've ever met... when he isn't smashing your plants, that is.""He hasn't touched the rose you gave me," she said.Colonel Mandland smiled at her. "Give him time."She yawned. The fresh night air was making her wish for her bed, but she didn't dare close her eyes while riding in the phaeton.

He answered her yawn with one of his own. "Don't go to sleep on me," she warned. "We'll end up in aditch." ."I won't fall asleep. I used to like night marches the best. You move quickly because you don't have to worry about the enemy."

She glanced at him. He was watching Oscar and the road ahead. In spite of his rank, she sometimes forgot he was a fighter. "How ironic that one brother went into the Church and another into war."

"Not ironic at all," the colonel said easily. "Matt fights for souls and I fought for England."

"And now you wish to be in the Commons."

"Of course." He gave her a smile and said, "They won't let me in the House of Lords."

"They let in George. What a pity."

He laughingly agreed with her, and then he yawned again before turning onto a side road even narrower

than the one they'd been taking. "Are you certain this is safe?" she asked, nervous about the ruts thewheels bounced over."It's safe. Besides," he continued, "this is the night before our wedding. Nothing will go wrong."

"I would feel more confident if you would slow down, even a bit."

"You worry too much," he answered and snapped the whip again for Oscar to pick up the pace. For a while they rode in companionable silence until they drove over a bridge and came to a fork in the road.

He started one way, and then changed his mind. "This isn't the right direction," he said, using his body weight to control the phaeton as they took the corner at a sharp angle.

Rosalyn wanted to close her eyes. "We are going to break our necks."

"You're safe," he insisted, even as they must have hit a stone in the road. It was enough to throw the

lightweight vehicle off balance. There was a sick cracking sound, and the phaeton careened crazily, leaning to Rosalyn's side, and nearly plummeting into a ditch.

Colonel Mandland threw an arm around her to keep her from being thrown out of the vehicle while he

struggled to rein Oscar to a halt. It demanded all of his skill as a driver. To his credit, they didn't flip

over.

The horse didn't seem the least bit disconcerted by the accident. He came to a halt, waited a moment, and started munching on weeds by the side of the road.

"Are you all right?" the colonel demanded.

Rosalyn pushed the now crushed brim of her bonnet back. "Yes, I'm fine. What about yourself?"

He dismissed her question with a wave and hopped out of the phaeton. Turning, he placed his hands

around her waist and swung her down as if she were lighter than a bed pillow.

The ground was muddy here. The damp oozed up into her kid slippers. She should have worn her walking shoes.

Colonel Mandland went around to inspect the damage. "One of the wheel spokes is broken." He swore

softly."We'll have to return to Clitheroe," she said. "Perhaps a farmer will pass by here in the morning.""Oh, no," Colonel Mandland said. "We are on our way to Scotland, and to Scotland we will go.""But how will we get there?""Oscar," he said, starting to unhitch the horse."We can't both ride him," she protested.The colonel laughed. "Look at his back. It's nothing to him to carry us." Having unharnessed the horse, he pushed the phaeton out of the ditch and into a thicket. He pulled a knife from his boot and begancutting branches to hide the vehicle. "So that it is here when I return for it," he explained."Perhaps this is an omen," Rosalyn said. "Perhaps we shouldn't elope.""That's nonsense," Colin replied, catching Oscar and starting to create a halter and reins for him.

"No, it's common sense," she argued.

"Perhaps it is a test of our determination and will," he responded. He looked at her. "Rosalyn, did I not promise you an adventure? Well, here it is." He led the horse back to the bridge so he could use the stone railing to mount the beast bareback. He trotted up to Rosalyn. "Let me have your hand."

"You can't expect me to ride without a saddle. My dress-?"

"The Scots won't care what you look like," the colonel assured her. "And I don't like that hat much anyway."

She opened her mouth to contradict him about the hat, but before she could say anything, he reached

down, took her arm, and pulled her up onto the horse in front of him. She sat sidesaddle, her legs over his.

Looking into her astonished gaze, he said, "We're off." Oscar started down the road.For a fearful moment, Rosalyn was certain she was going to be bounced off the horse. She used to rideall the time as a child, but she hadn't been on a horse's back for at least five years.

Colonel Mandland was completely at ease on horseback. His strong arms kept her in place, and his muscular legs provided the extra width she needed to keep her seat without a saddle. The warmth of his body staved off the chill of the spring night.

Slowly, she began to relax. "How far do we have left to go?"

"Three hours, maybe a bit more."

"Are you always so tenacious at getting what you want?"

His lips curved into a confident smile. "Yes."

"And you want this marriage for the Commons seat?"

"You keep mentioning that." He glanced down at her as if trying to read her thoughts. For once, the

darkness helped her hide from him. "I want this marriage, period," he said simply. "And you're right.

Once I make up my mind, I do get what I want-usually. We'd walk to Scotland if that was the only

way."

Part of her was alarmed by such steadfast single-mindedness. Another was secretly pleased.

There was something powerful about a man who went after what he wanted... and right now, she sensed

he wanted her.

They rode in silence, each keeping their own counsel. At one point he said her name.

"Yes?" she answered.

"I was worried you'd gone to sleep."

"I'm here." She didn't know why, but her response seemed to please him.

Shortly after dawn, they rode past the marker on the road separating England from Scotland. Within

minutes, Colonel Mandland guided a tired Oscar into the yard of a wayside inn. There was a rushing

stream beside the yard, and three brown-and-white dogs ran up, yapping a greeting.

The colonel dismounted first, and then, placing his hands on her waist, helped her down. Her legs almost buckled under her from the hours of riding. Fortunately, he had anticipated the possibility and steadied her with a hand on her elbow.

The day promised to be a clear one. The dawn of her wedding day.

Suddenly nervous, she looked down at her dress and pelisse, both hopelessly ruined, and she was certain

the crushed brim of her hat gave her a comic appearance.

"You look fine," he said.