Lady Luck Chapter One England, 1816 Legend said that faeries and elves had once roamed the British Isles. Felicity Briggs stared out over the rugged landscape and breathed in deeply. She was ever so tired. Her eyelids were drooping, and her back felt like it was being broken in two. Her legs were stiff, and cramping up from having ridden astride for so long. Her palfrey neighed, and she rubbed Roan’s neck gently, as her mind tried to focus itself. She hated the business that she and her uncle were in. She stared through the dense thicket of trees toward the road, and managed to swallow down the bile that was quickly rising in her throat. Word had it, that there was a rich lord traveling this road, and that he would be making his way toward them in scant minutes. She flickered her gaze to the horizon, and stared at the fluffy clouds that were slowly gliding along in the clear sky. She yearned for a normal life. She wanted a man that loved her, and her own children to care for. It really wasn’t that grand of a dream, but she had a better chance of finding herself in a whorehouse, then being married to a gentlemen. She snorted aware that such flights of fancy were merely that, flights. She had to look at the world as it was. She was a highwaywoman and she needed to steal other people’s treasure in order to survive. She didn’t really know what had saved her hide this long. She and her uncle’s gang were wanted in nearly all of the northern counties. It wouldn’t be too long before the authorities caught up with them, and then they’d be done for. She idly raised her hand to her slim neck, and grimaced. She didn’t fancy a swing in the gallows, but if she were caught that would be the treat she’d be in for. She swallowed again, and was about to reach for her flask of water when something caught her attention out of the corner of her eye. There was a young woman walking toward them, and she was blithely unaware that she was walking into a pack of hungry wolves. Felicity’s eyes roamed around the land, and rested on Kendrick McGuire. She narrowed her eyes, and kicked Roan, as she sent him into an all out run. She needed to reach the woman before Kendrick did. Her heartbeat was racing, and she could nearly taste the feeling of dread that was quickly rolling through her. Her uncle’s men were libertines of the worst sort. She was off limits to them, but she even felt the slippery dirtiness of their creepy gazes whenever they were full of ravishing lust. She stifled a cry when Kendrick rushed out of the forest toward the girl. But he was not on horseback and so therefore she had the advantage. The girl’s scream pierced the stillness of the tranquil day. Felicity’s heart was drumming so loudly and forcefully in her chest that she feared it was going to pop right out. “Get off of her!” She screamed, dismounting quickly. She wobbled for a few steps, and pulled her pistol out without even giving it a second thought. Kendrick was now pushing up the girl’s skirt, and well, quite frankly Felicity had been pushed straight over the edge. She considered shooting him, but then thought better of it, astutely realizing that she ran the risk of shooting the girl instead. But she was not a dimwitted woman. Instead, she whacked him over the back of the head with the butt of her pistol. She didn’t care if she’d killed him or knocked him senseless. In her opinion he deserved death as a suitable punishment, and he hadn’t had much sense before, so in a way, it wouldn’t make any discernable difference. He collapsed on top of the frighteningly silent girl. Felicity holstered her pistol, and took the toe of her boot and used it to kick Kendrick off of the frozen girl. He went rolling off to the side, and she could have sworn that she heard a faint groan. He was one hell of a lucky bastard. But if she had her own way the second time around, he’d be dead. She hated the vile pillock and hoped to God that someday, he’d be set on by the law. She knelt down by the sobbing girls side, and reached out a hand toward her. The girl stared up at her wide-eyed, and it was then that Felicity realized she was unmasked. “Damn.” Her voice came out gruffer than she intended, and she frowned when she noticed the girl flinch. “I won’t hurt you,” she rushed out. “Who are you?” The girl’s straightforward question shocked the hell out of Felicity. She widened her eyes, and didn’t blink for at least a few seconds. Who was she indeed? She’d never considered that question before. She didn’t look like her uncle, and she certainly didn’t behave like him, so where the hell did she fit in anyway? She hated the life she was currently living, and she would pretty much be tempted to trade it for anything. Except that is, the whorehouse. Her uncle had suggested that vocation to her on numerous occasions, and had even tried selling her to a madam once. But somehow the whole plan had backfired on him, and the brothel had burned down the next day. No one had ever been able to deduce the cause of the fire. Whenever, bad things were happening to her, her extraordinary luck always seemed to kick in. She pissed her uncle off to no end, but what could she do? She couldn’t very well change her luck. Luck was a tricky thing, it either swayed in your favor, or it swayed against you. However, her uncle seemed to be cursed with no end of ill luck. He was always having some catastrophe befall him. Yet, he was still convinced that her presence brought him good luck, even though she always seemed to be around when his bad luck kicked him in the arse. Copyright©2004MarlyMathews

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