Simon didn’t like it, but he saw the danger clearly. Still, not wanting to see him go, he argued, “Why must it be tonight? Why not tomorrow or the next day?” He knew the answers as soon as he spoke the words. Any delay, now that Robert was speaking openly of Captain Saber, could be fatal. An icy fear clutched his heart at the thought of Christopher in chains and on the gallows, and Simon said almost inaudibly, “You’re right. You must go tonight.”
The soft words tore at Christopher, knowing as he did how much the older man must be dreading this parting—didn’t he dread it as much?
“Grandfather,” he coaxed, “it will not be like the last time. This time you know where I am going and you know that I will be back. Soon. I promise.”
Without haste Simon stood up. He could not say the words of farewell, not yet. They would have another moment alone before this evening ended and Christopher left. Then perhaps he could bid the boy adieu without this silly moisture in his eyes.
Without meeting Christopher’s eyes, he muttered, “After dinner tonight, I’ll want another word with you in my study. After that you may slip away. In the meantime, I’ll talk to Robert. Tell him I couldn’t find you and that his story is a Covent Garden farce. Tell him he’ll have to say it to your face in front of me before I’ll believe it’s not just a spiteful tale. That should keep him quiet until tomorrow sometime. By that time, you should have reached Dover. I warn you, though, waste no time. I will try to keep Robert at bay as long as I can, but the very most I can fob him off will be a day or two.”
Christopher nodded. “And the ladies? What will you tell them?”
Simon let out his breath in a rush. “Simply that you have been called away to France on urgent business and they are not to talk of it. Anyone else that asks after you will get the same answer. Sooner or later they’ll stop asking.” Regarding his boots, he muttered fiercely, “You just get yourself back here safe as soon as you can.”
Christopher stared at his grandfather, not bothering to hide what he felt. With that charming warm smile so few people ever saw on his lips and the usually hard gold eyes soft with unhidden love, he said haltingly, “I’m sorry it has to be like this. And I’m sorry you’ll have to make excuses for me. Next time, I promise you, there will be no need for such a hasty departure.”
“By God, there had better not be!” Simon barked. His eyes bright with suppressed emotion, he stumped from the room growling, “I don’t know why I waste my time with you! Here’s Robert waiting in my study for me, and now thanks to you I must turn him up sweet to keep his mouth shut. Just when I was warming up to a grand disinheritance scene too!”
For a long time, a very long time, Christopher regarded the doorway through which Simon had disappeared. There was a sadness within him, a dull ache in his heart. Roughly he pulled himself back to the task at hand and rang impatiently for Higgins to rejoin him. Jesus, he was turning into a maudlin milkmaid. Deliberately he switched his thoughts, wondering how Robert was taking Simon’s orders.
When Simon reached his study, it was empty. A sharp inquiry of Twickham elicited the puzzling information that Master Robert had departed with Nicole’s maid Galena.
“With one of the maids?” Simon repeated. “What is he doing with one of the maids?”
“I really couldn’t say, sir,” Twickham replied. Catching the fire in Simon’s eye, he added quickly, “I did hear Miss Nicole’s name mentioned though, and Edward Markham’s. It was something to do with Brighton Park. Perhaps Miss Nicole sent Galena with a message for one of the coachmen to fetch her and Mister Markham from the park and Master Robert decided to go instead.”
“Perhaps,” Simon agreed, It seemed unlikely, yet Robert had spoken of seeing Nicole. Perhaps they had gone for a ride. At this hour? With Edward Markham? Now that sounded odd. Very odd.
Chapter 13
It was odd. Edward Markham was with Nicole, but not at her invitation. He had indeed put into effect his plan to abduct her—and luck seemed to be on his side.
The hiring of the carriage had been done with a minimum of effort. Even the weather smiled on him, the afternoon being a lovely fall symphony of crisp biting air and gold and scarlet leaves. Nicole did come to the park escorted only by Galena and exultantly Edward had watched them disappear down one of the many pleasant walks in the park. From his vantage point just outside the park he waited impatiently for Nicole to complete her walk, refusing to think of the possibility that she might join friends in the park.
Nicole took a longer stroll than usual, her thoughts on Christopher and the scene in the library. The brisk walk cleared her head and released a portion of her pent-up frustration and unhappiness.
She was glad, she told herself fiercely, that Christopher was leaving. It was best. With him gone, with no possibility of seeing him, knowing he was on the other side of the world, and more than likely with new female conquests, she would be free of this silly, lingering emotion she had for him.
It was Galena who curtailed the walk. She did not like walking and thought her mistress mad to walk when she could ride. After suffering in silence for quite some time, she said to Nicole, “Miss Nicole, don’t you think we should start home now? It’s almost five o’clock and you did not make arrangements for anyone to meet us with a carriage.”
“I suppose you’re right, Galena. Very well, home we will go.”
Shortly thereafter they reached the main gate to Brighton Park and started the long walk to the house on Kings Road. They had not walked but a few steps when Nicole was startled by Edward’s distressed air as he ran up to her.
“My dear!” he cried. “I have such dreadful news! I do not know how to tell you. But they felt it best if you heard it from one of your own family.”
Nicole blanched, her first thought being of Christopher. The topaz eyes nearly black with apprehension, she clutched Edward’s arm in a painful grip. “What is it? Tell me, damn you! What is it?”
“Lord Saxon!” Edward said dramatically. “He is dead! Not but a short while ago he suffered a fatal stroke. Come, they need you! Hurry!”
Stunned Nicole let Edward hustle her across the busy street into the waiting coach Such was her sorrow and anguish that she paid no heed to the fact that Galena had been left standing dazedly in front of the park, nor spared a thought as to why the inhabitants at Kings Road had thought him the best person to break the news to her.
Nearly paralyzed by the staggering news, Nicole, as Edward had counted on, paid little attention as to where they were going. Blindly she stared out the coach window; not realizing they were traveling swiftly in the wrong direction.
Edward watched her covertly from his seat on the other side of the carriage. Now, dear cuz, you won’t fob me off! he thought maliciously. In two days’ time or less we will be married—sooner than that you will no longer be the innocent virgin you are now. He smiled nastily as he contemplated the pleasures that would soon be his. Time enough to break her to his will, he thought, a spiteful expression crossing his face.
Nicole saw that expression and it woke her to several things—Galena was not with her; they should have reached Kings Road some minutes ago. Taking a quick reconnaissance of the passing scenery, she realized that they were not even traveling in the right direction. They were heading north!
She sank back against the seat, keeping her face smooth and bland, stemming the fury that boiled in her veins, her brain functioning at a frenzied pace. Edward had duped her! It was so like him, she thought contemptuously. He must plan on a Gretna Green marriage…unless he had murder on his mind. She could not discount that possibility, and she considered him. No, she decided finally, not murder—he was too cowardly for that. But even cowards will murder if driven too far, she reminded herself uncomfortably, and Edward must be desperate indeed to have undertaken such a rash scheme.
She frowned. Not so rash if Lord Saxon had truly suffered a fatal stroke. It would be hours before anyone would even have a moment to spare for her, to wonder at her continue
d absence. Had Edward seized upon a tragic event to serve his own needs? It was a frightful thought, and all the fear and sorrow she had felt when he had first given her the news of Lord Saxon’s death came rushing back.
“Edward,” she said at last, “I know we are not going to Lord Saxon’s. I gather we are eloping to Gretna Green. But tell me the truth, is Lord Saxon dead or did you merely say that to get me into this coach?”
Edward had expected all sorts of recriminations from his cousin. He certainly hadn’t planned on her calm demeanor, nor on any real concern about Lord Saxon. Because it caught him unprepared, he told the truth. “To my knowledge Lord Saxon enjoys his usual robust health.”
At Nicole’s look of scorn, he added defensively, “Well, I had to tell you something that would shake you, throw you off stride. What else was I to do?”
“You spineless jellyfish!” she said contemptuously. “What else could you do? I’ll tell you what else you could do—you could order this carriage stopped immediately, and I will pretend this distasteful episode never transpired. You may have me in your power right now, but I’ll tell you this, cuz,” she drawled the word cuttingly, “nothing will make me marry you. You are going to look silly when I refuse to repeat the wedding vows.”
With an ugly expression in the blue eyes Edward snarled, “I wouldn’t talk quite so bravely if I were you! By the time we reach Gretna Green, you will be more than happy to marry me…especially since by that that time you may well be carrying my child! Certainly, I shall have done my part to insure that it is so. I am taking no chances, cuz, of being thwarted, so don’t look for help from the Saxons. Unless they overtake us within the next few hours, they will be of no use to you. Not even Lord Saxon would stand behind you once he realized that you were a maid no longer and that there was the possibility of a child.”
Bitterly Nicole choked down the furious words that clogged her throat, not wishing to infuriate him into action—not yet. Edward was a fool if he thought he could get away with this madness. She would never marry him. Never! He would not find raping her easy either. But even if he succeeded, even if she were to become pregnant, she would never marry him. She would face the scandal, the gossip, and the disgrace.
“Nothing to say, my dear?” Edward jeered.
Nicole shrugged, not willing to open hostilities until she had decided precisely what she meant to do. Indifferently she said, “What is there to say? You have obviously thought of everything.”
“So I have,” Edward agreed. “So I have. And you are wise to see the folly in being obstructive. The whole affair will be much less of an ordeal to you if you cooperate.” With a smirk on his lips he boasted, “I am said to be quite, quite competent in the art of lovemaking, and I am sure you will appreciate my skill if you do not fight me. There are, you know, several women who would gladly trade places with you.”
“Oh, really?” Nicole returned, as surreptitiously she glanced around the carriage, searching for some object that could be used as a weapon. Pitting her own strength against Edward’s, she might gain some minutes’ respite, and there was the outside chance that she could prove the victor in a test of wills between them, but she wouldn’t disdain something that would put the odds more in her favor.
At first there appeared to be nothing she could use. The carriage was empty except for them; whatever baggage Edward had packed was strapped outside to the roof. Her reticule lay on the seat beside her, but she quickly discounted it—there was nothing in it that could help her. Biting her lip, she took one last desperate glance around the carriage and then she saw it. Edward’s Malacca cane. The sword cane! She studied the slim deadly object lying so innocently on the seat beside him. If only I can…
Nicole had never felt so alone and helpless in her life, and as the miles passed and the fading late afternoon sunlight gave way to the silvery glow of the moon, she grew more frustrated and angry. She was not frightened, nor did she fear Edward, but with every passing hour she realized that time was running out for her—that soon her cousin would make good his threat and force his unwanted attentions upon her. She shuddered as she imagined the feel of his hands roaming freely over her body and his mouth ravishing hers.
As if guessing her thoughts, Edward smiled at her in the dim gloom of the carriage. “Nervous, my dear?” he asked. “Don’t worry, you have a few more minutes before my baser instincts take over.”
Her mouth dry, Nicole inquired, “What are you waiting for? More moonlight in which to view your performance?”
“Now that is a possibility. But no, you are wrong. There is a narrow and curving stretch of road coming up, and I would not like to be swung about this way and that at a most crucial moment. You’ll appreciate my consideration when you see what I mean.”
Weary of hiding her contempt and anger, of pretending a resignation she didn’t feel, Nicole snorted. “I doubt you have ever considered anyone in your entire selfish life.” Conversationally she went on, “You know, Edward, you are endangering that life by what you are doing. Do you think that a marriage will stop one of the Saxons from calling you out?” She gave a gay little laugh at Edward’s sudden look of uncertainty. It was obviously a point he had not considered. There was a mocking cat-yellow gleam in her topaz eyes as she continued, “Let’s see. First there is Lord Saxon himself—still quite handy with a pistol from all accounts. And then there is Robert. Robert should be quite good with the sword, don’t you think? And as for Christopher, well, I have heard it said that he is very good with both.” Her voice harsh with loathing, she snarled, “Do you really think they will let you get away with it? Especially if they overtake us?”
Edward laughed nervously. “Oh, don’t be ridiculous! None of them are foolish enough or care enough about you to challenge me to a duel. And no one is going to overtake us!”
As if to disprove his words, the coach gave a sudden vicious sway, hurtling Edward against the door and sending Nicole clutching for one of the leather handholds. They had no chance to recover before there was another sharp lurch that sent Edward cursing and sliding across the floor of the coach, while Nicole, clinging tightly to the handhold, was barely able to keep from tumbling into the aisle. Seeing that her cousin was taken up with regaining his balance, she wasted not a moment, bending down and snatching up the cane that had bounced onto the floor near her feet. In a trice it was concealed in the folds of her pelisse.
The coach, after an ominous grinding of the wheels and one bone-shaking bump, came to a halt at an awkward angle. Outside Nicole could hear the coachman shouting to the postilion in an agitated voice, and Edward, righting himself, flung open the door. The coach was at an odd slant, forcing him to climb up to climb out. Safe on the ground, he demanded in a furious tone, “What the hell is going on!”
There was an exchange of voices and Nicole listened intently. There had been an unexpectedly deep rut in the road, and swerving to miss it, the coach had swung off into the roadside ditch. One of the back wheels was off the road, firmly embedded in the loose dirt.
Nicole smiled to herself. She had no idea if any of the Saxons were even in pursuit, but any delay was to her advantage. She rather thought that help would be on the way though, for Galena was bound to return to Kings Road, expecting her to be there with Edward—and Lord Saxon dead! When it was discovered that Lord Saxon was very much alive, the alarm would be sounded and someone—her heart leaped in her breast, when she thought of Christopher’s dark, angry face—someone was certain to realize what had happened. They were on the main road heading north, the most direct route to Scotland, and it was the first avenue any rescue would take.
As the minutes passed and the men worked to free the trapped coach, her spirits rose. Edward, from the sounds of it, was not endearing himself to the coachmen as he shouted and cursed their unsuccessful attempts to get the coach back onto the road. Glancing about the moonlit countryside, she wished her door were not jammed. Perhaps, she thought, hopeful, they would have to remain here all night. Now wouldn’
t that be a fitting outcome to Edward’s dastardly plot! But her hopes were dashed, for the next moment the coach lurched violently; the wheel spun madly, then sprang free of the dirt. Rocking wildly, the heavy vehicle reeled triumphantly onto the road.
Nicole’s heart sank as the coach righted itself, but she fingered the concealed sword cane taking comfort from it. Edward, she decided, with a tight smile, was in for a nasty surprise.
The object of her thoughts clambered aboard the coach and said in a disagreeable tone of voice, “Those incompetent fools! You would think for the money I’m paying them, they’d know how to drive.”
Nicole made no comment; her heart beating rapidly in her breast. She would act now, now while he was still agitated by the accident and before they traveled farther. Her eyes bright with determination, she waited only until Edward had seated himself. Before he had time to realize what had happened, she struck swiftly, the sword held unerringly in her hand; he found himself staring down two feet of naked blade. He shrank back against the seat, and Nicole commanded softly, “Stay, Edward. Do not startle me or I may accidentally skewer you.”
Edward froze, his eyes riveted on the blade barely inches from his face. Nicole had wisely chosen his face as her target, knowing Edward would do just about anything to protect his beautiful features from being mutilated.
Scornfully Nicole regarded him as he vainly attempted to melt into the cushions of the leather seat, thinking of Christopher’s insolent actions when she had held a pistol to his head in Allen’s cell that night on Grand Terre.
Not bothering to hide the contempt she felt, Nicole ordered, “Call your coachman and have him turn the carriage around. We are going back to Brighton.”
Seeing all his hopes for a rosy future disappearing, Edward was so moved he forgot about his face, and furiously he jerked up, only to be halted when the blade nicked him delicately on the cheekbone. “Damn you, Nicole!” he swore, frantically dabbing at the minor scratch with a fine white linen handkerchief. “Damn you if you have scarred me!”
Lady Vixen (The Reckless Brides, Book 3) Page 17