An Old Fashioned Romance

From The Highwayman of Tanglewood by Marcia Lynn McClure

Through the trees she could see the shape of a horse and rider approaching in furious haste!

Faris’ eyes widened as she saw the rider’s black hood, his midnight cape billowing in the wind as he rode toward her. His mount was as black as moonless night and angrily snorted as it reared up before her. Instinctively, Faris raised her arm to cover her eyes, certain she would next be trampled by powerful hooves. Yet she was not, and ventured a glance at the rider.

The hooded man seemed to be looking at her—his horse pacing back and forth as its companion studied her. The rider was an enormous man, covered from head to toe in black clothing. From his black hood and cloak to his blackest of breeches to black boots cuffed just under his knee. For a moment Faris wondered if perhaps the grim reaper was upon her, come to claim her before Kade Tremeshton did.  For long moments the only sounds were the horse’s heavy breath and the strain of leather as the rider shifted in the saddle, the whip of his cape as he flung one length of it over his broad shoulder.

“Who are ya, lass?” the rider asked in a low, raspy growl. “And what are ya about here in the night?”

“I…I…I’m only Faris and…I’m on my way to Loch Loland Castle,” Faris managed.

“At sunset?” the rider asked. “Only ghosts and highwaymen wander at dusk and sunset, lass,” he said.

Faris sensed his raspy whispered growl was intentional—a method of hiding the true intonation of his voice, but his accent was unmistakable—a man from the green isle. It was only then she realized with whom fate had matched her in that moment.

“The Highwayman!” she gasped.

The Highwayman of Tanglewood was legendary through all the land. With the will and purpose of Robin Hood, the Highwayman of Tanglewood set upon only those who were wealthy. Further, only those who had come by their wealth in deceitful and hateful ways. The Highwayman of Tanglewood never murdered and it was said he never robbed any honest person—only dishonest and arrogant persons who used the poor and less fortunate to further fleece their gold-lined pockets.

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