Siren

three

Phoebe wended through the crowded spring festival beside her brother, searching for a spot close to the parade ground. The military processionals were her favorite event and she was late by near an hour. She spotted her best friend, Sarah Hardy, waving from along the fence.

“There is Sarah. Would you mind if I joined her?” Phoebe asked.

“Not at all,” Edward replied, nodding to their childhood friend. “Don’t stay out too long. We have to be ready to greet the guests this evening.”

“I won’t,” Phoebe promised. Tossing her brother a quick smile, she joined her friend. Sarah stood with Lieutenant Collins, a young cavalry officer, originally from Corsair.

“What have I missed?” Phoebe asked, turning her attention to the field. A uniformed soldier straddled a sleek chestnut gelding, preparing to maneuver through a difficult obstacle course.

“Nothing much,” Sarah replied. “Only the militia drills.”

“Oh, good. The cavalry display is my favorite.”

The rider positioned his mount at the far end of the field, holding perfectly still for several seconds. The crowd hushed, waiting with bated breath for the exhibition to begin. Without warning the horse sprang forward in a rolling canter, striding swiftly toward the first obstacle—a fence style jump. As one, the horse and rider sailed over the hurdle, a perfect picture of fluidity. Phoebe gazed upon the beautiful spectacle with rapt attention. The officer guided his mount through the course with effortless grace, a stunning example of partnership as opposed to master and beast. The pair swept past the rail and Phoebe grabbed the upper rung in shock.

It’s Jamie! The roguish soldier from the beachfront two days ago. Heat flamed in her cheeks. Needless to say Phoebe had refrained from taking any more clandestine walks along the beach. She bit her lip, gaze drawn with magnetic force to the striking officer cantering across the parade ground. He certainly cut a different figure from the disheveled—if handsome—rogue she’d seen the other day. For two days his rakish smile and warm brown eyes had stuck firmly in her mind. Inadvertently she shivered, even now her skin prickled with memory of his close perusal

But it was more than his bold flirtation.

His haggard appearance had contrasted so vividly with his wicked banter, and he’d gazed upon her as though he needed rescuing, and she was his dream come true. Phoebe couldn’t help but wonder from what did he need rescue?

“I daresay that is impressive riding,” Sarah said, standing on tip toe, she craned her neck around to stare after the rider. Her brimmed hat blew off her head, catching on the ribbons tied beneath her chin, momentarily blocking Phoebe’s view.

“We call him the wolf in battle,” Lieutenant Collins stated proudly. “He is a hell-raiser of the first order on and off the battlefield, but when it comes to rallying troops…” Awe touched Collins’s voice, “he has no equal.”

“It sounds as though you admire him very much,” Sarah said.

“I’d follow him into Purgatory and wage war upon the damned,” Lieutenant Collins affirmed.

Phoebe’s heart skipped as her ears strained, hoping to catch a full name. She could well imagine Jamie enticing men to follow him into the fray of battle. He was charming to say the least, with an intoxicating aura that affected her even now. Perhaps she’d see him at the ball tonight. Maybe he’d ask her to dance.

The exhibition drew to a close.

“Sarah,” Phoebe said, flashing her friend a quick smile. “I think I’ll just go down by the castle ruins. There is a lady selling some lovely ribbons.”