Chapter One
Yorkshire Moors, England
Lady Linnette Whitby clutched the reins of her horse tightly, nervously glancing back over her shoulder once again, hoping she hadn’t been followed.
Unable to see anything in the night and through the thick fog of the moors, she was starting to feel apprehensive and regretted not at least taking a pageboy or perhaps a stableboy with her as an escort.
Even one of her younger brothers would have been a better choice than sneaking away from the castle and venturing out to the moors on her own.
Then again, her brothers, Bradley and William, had been sent away for fostering and to train to be squires and someday knights.
Her heart beat rapidly in her chest and her body shook like a leaf in the wind.
Although the night was warm and it was summer, she was still concealed beneath a woolen, hooded cloak to hide her identity.
She should have been warm, but instead, she still couldn’t ignore the chill running up her spine.
Her horse became agitated and whinnied. The animal’s breath permeated the suddenly frigid air.
Odd. It didn’t make any sense at all. Linnette stopped riding, running her hand over the horse’s neck to calm the animal.
“It’s all right, Sunny,” she told her mare, thinking that even the horse could feel that something was wrong.
Linnette’s hand slowly fell to her side, her fingers caressing the hilt of her dagger, her gaze moving back and forth as she desperately tried to see anything through this thick fog.
She wished more than anything that she had brought a sword with her instead of such a small and simple blade.
Even if she didn’t really know how to use a weapon designed for a knight.
The myths of this dreaded moor made everyone avoid it like the plague.
No one came here purposely, and they usually lengthened their journey just riding around the so-called cursed area.
Linnette, too, feared the stories of the headless horseman who roamed the moors looking for his beloved after his lover’s father had beheaded him.
All the while, his lover’s wailing could be heard on the misty moors as she longed for him as well.
These stories should have frightened anyone away. But still, Linnette had to come. It was a risk she was willing to take to try to change the horrors of her own life that awaited her back at Whitby Castle. A horror by the name of Lord Thomas Payne…her betrothed.
The moors were a safe haven for her in a way.
And also the only place she was sure that no one would follow her.
Here was where she would meet with Duncan MacKeefe in secret, as she had done four times now in the past year.
And once she met up with him tonight, she knew he’d protect her since he was such an honorable man.
Hopefully, Duncan would also want to marry her like they’d talked about on several occasions, having met through her friend Matilda, who married a Scot.
If she married Duncan, she wouldn’t have to wed that wretched old man, who was of her father’s choosing.
The horse whickered again and threw back her head.
This time, Linnette heard the unmistakable sound of a woman weeping from somewhere in the fog.
Then came the sound of hoofbeats on the soggy soil beneath her.
How could she hear hoofbeats if the soil wasn’t hard?
And why would a woman be out here weeping?
Unless it was the legend of the ghosts. But she’d been here several times now meeting Duncan and never had she seen a ghost. Nay, it had to be nothing but a silly legend, she was sure.
“Hello?” she called out, feeling her heart lodge in her throat.
The fog was thick all around her, the beams of moonlight from the full moon breaking through a little from an area just up ahead.
“Duncan? Is that you?” Mayhap the sound of the hoofbeats came from her secret lover’s horse, but certainly not the woman weeping, the sound of which suddenly seemed to become even louder.
Sunny tried to turn and run, but Linnette held the horse steady, not yet ready to leave.
Not before she found Duncan. He should have been here by now.
She’d sent the missive over a fortnight ago and had been coming to the moors to look for him every night for the past week.
Thinking she saw a rider up ahead in the moonlight, she let out a deep sigh.
“Duncan,” she said softly, urging the horse forward, although it wasn’t easy.
“I’m over here!” she called out, seeing the silhouette of the rider coming right toward her.
“I’m so glad you’re here, Duncan. I’ve been waiting for…
” She stopped in midsentence when more moonlight broke through the fog and she was able to see the man on horseback who now rode directly for her.
This was not Duncan at all! Instead of a Scot in a plaid atop the horse, this rider was dressed like an Englishman, wearing a long cloak…and he had no head!
“Naaaaay!” she screamed, turning her horse and kicking it hard to make it move swiftly.
She could hear the headless rider gaining on her but didn’t have enough courage to glance back to see exactly who was on her tail.
“Faster, Sunny! Faster!” she commanded her horse, riding recklessly and hoping her mare wouldn’t lose her footing.
She had to get out of here! The headless horseman was after her.
The sounds of the wailing woman filled her head.
Linnette swore the headless rider was so close that he could reach out and touch her.
Still, she focused straight ahead, not daring to look to her side for fear of what she’d see.
This night was getting worse by the minute and not at all what she’d expected.
She couldn’t wait for Duncan any longer.
She needed to get out of here before she ended up like the ghost rider… without her head!