Lady Vixen (The Reckless Brides, Book 3)
Page 18
Her eyes narrowed, her lips in a grim line, she replied evenly, “And damn you, my dear cuz, for what you tried to do to me. Now order this coach turned around or next time I shall mark you permanently. Do it! Now!”
Edward complied, pounding against the wall for the coachman to stop. The coach halted; Edward’s eyes burning with hate, he snarled out the command to return to Brighton.
The driver and postilion exchanged glances—gentry! Mad as hatters and never knew what they wanted. But as the coachmen had already been paid for the long journey to Gretna Green, gold that would not be returned, they were willing without argument to drive back to Brighton.
The coach was wheeled about; Nicole permitted herself a sigh of relief as the horses picked up speed heading toward Brighton—and home. She did not allow her guard to drop, realizing Edward was more dangerous now than at any other time. If he were to gain the upper hand—God help her! Her grip on the sword cane tightened. She would kill him before she let herself fall into his power again.
They rode in silence—Edward sullen against the seat, and Nicole’s eyes fixed on him—the sword a deadly barrier between them.
She had no idea of the time, nor how long or how far they had traveled; but it was long after dark, the silver moon was high in the black sky. Help, she felt certain, must be on the way. Galena would have returned ages ago and the alarm sounded. Even now Christopher or Robert would be in pursuit of them. At least she prayed it was so. Edward was intimidated for the moment, but Nicole knew her cousin. While she was confident of her own abilities, especially with the added force of the sword cane, she would be relieved to have the protection of the Saxons once more. How dependent upon them I have grown, she thought with a wry smile.
As the miles passed, the rocking motion of the coach had a soothing effect upon her, and Nicole relaxed slightly, only to stiffen and watch Edward narrowly as he moved restlessly across from her, the sword following every movement.
Irritably he said, “Oh, put that damn thing down! I’m not about to try anything while you hold a sword. I’m not a fool, you know.”
Nicole smiled without amusement. “Oh, but you are! No one but a fool would have attempted such a stupid way out of his difficulties. Did you think me so much a ninnyhammer that I would go along with you? I could see you trying this trick on some foolish maid already half in love with you. But me, Edward, of all people! How could you be so ridiculous?”
Edward shot her a look of pure hatred. “Because,” he said furiously, “you cheated me out of a fortune! It was mine, all mine, and then you had to come back. I needed it—you didn’t! Why you could marry any number of rich men, men richer than you are, and you would have no use for it.”
“I think it is up to me to decide whether I need my fortune or not.” She snapped. “Certainly not you! Your family has grown rich enough off me during the past years. Remember, except by marriage, we are in no way related. I may call you cousin, but it is a courtesy title only, and to want the entire fortune that my family has amassed over the years is, I fear, the height of avarice. I did not ‘cheat’ you out of a fortune, I merely returned to claim what was rightfully mine…and you would do well to remember it.”
There was nothing Edward could say to her cutting words, and resentfully he gazed out the window of the coach, damning an unkind fate. It wasn’t fair that he should come this far and then be thwarted by a mere female, he thought indignantly. If only he could snatch that damned weapon from her—then everything would be right again. Only this time he wouldn’t wait to defile her, nor would he treat her politely. She’d learn that it wasn’t wise to interfere with his plans.
Some of his confidence returned, and Edward shook off his earlier cowardice and covertly assessed Nicole. She was only a woman.
Nicole, ever wary, knew the moment Edward’s attitude changed. She sensed it in the air the way an animal does, and she tensed. Unafraid, she faced him, her face betraying no sign that she suspected him of action. Whens Edward shifted position, she said levelly, “Edward, I wouldn’t try anything if I were you. I am not some missish female who faints at the sight of blood—I have seen blood before and seen men die before. I can and will kill you if I am compelled to…the choice is yours. But know that you are not dealing with some hysterical female—force me and I will skewer you without regard.”
Edward swallowed, taken aback at the determined tone of her voice. It gave him pause, but his situation was too desperate now to heed her warnings. If Nicole escaped him, not only would he still be in debt, a debt he could not pay, but the scandal this abortive escapade would create would utterly ruin him—he might face criminal charges if the Saxons wished to endure the furor such an action would engender. This was no prank that could be explained away, nor could he buy his way free—once in Brighton he would have to face the consequences of his actions, something he had never done in his life…something he had no intention of doing now. He would teach this stupid bitch a lesson—his moment would come before they reached Brighton. He’d be ready for it, she would see. Just wait, dear cuz, he thought, just wait, you’ll not out-trick me!
Edward’s moment came not five minutes later, although it wasn’t what he expected. The wheel that had skidded off the road earlier had been damaged in the mishap. The momentum of the carriage and a particularly sharp curve were its undoing, as the damaged wheel’s hub could not bear the combined onslaught and with a grinding shudder it disintegrated, the spokes snapping like brittle straws. Without the spokes for support the rim of the wheel crumpled; the now unbraced rear axle tore up a deep furrow before the cursing driver brought the horses to a stop.
Outside there was chaos—the horses plunging and fighting against the reins, the front pair of animals entangled in their traces, and the coach, tilted at a drunken angle in the center of the narrow road. Inside Nicole and Edward were locked in a battle for the sword cane; neither knew what had been the cause of the sudden violent lurch and the final tremendous jolt that shook the carriage when the axle hit the ground. At the first rattling jar Edward had gathered his courage and leaped for Nicole, and Nicole, hurled from side to side of the carriage by the accident, fought like a vixen at bay, the topaz eyes nearly yellow with fierce concentration. The erratic motion of the coach gave Edward an edge, and he took advantage of it and launched himself at her deftly avoiding the blade as Nicole struggled to regain her balance. It was an ugly battle; Edward cursed as Nicole twisted in his murderous grip, his body heavy on hers, pinning her against the seat, his face thrust next to hers. With a shudder of distaste, she felt his hot breath on her cheek and struggled more violently to free herself. Edward had both her hands captured in his and exerted all his pressure on the wrist of the arm that held the sword, but Nicole ignored the shaft of burning agony that ran up her arm, and thrashing like a wild creature, she managed to bring a knee up between their straining bodies. Viciously she kicked Edward in the groin area, smiling at his howl of pain. His aching hold on her wrist slackened, and giving him no chance at all, with the swiftness of a striking snake drove the sword deep into Edward’s shoulder.
A shriek of agony broke from him and he fell back, one hand clutching his groin the other his shoulder. With disbelief he stared across at the disheveled young woman as she held the sword ready to strike again. At the sight of the few smears of blood on her pelisse, Edward closed his eyes and moaned, “I am dying! I know it. You have killed me, cousin.”
“Hardly,” Nicole returned dryly. “You are wounded, cousin, and not fatally, I can assure you. I did warn you, so you have no one to blame but yourself. Feel thankful I didn’t kill you…because the thought had crossed my mind.”
The sound of an approaching vehicle distracted her and ignoring Edward, she leaned forward, listening intently. It took her only a second to recognize Robert’s irritated voice in the darkness, and with one last contemptuous look at Edward, she threw the sword cane at him, opened the door, and sprang from the carriage.
“Robert! Stay! It i
s Nicole!” she cried, thankful for rescue so soon. She had not relished remaining there in a disabled coach with a wounded and petulant Edward throughout the night while the postilion went for help, and while she would rather have had just about anyone other than Robert Saxon be her rescuer, she wasn’t in a mood to quibble.
Through the silver light of the moon Robert peered at her and exclaimed, “My dear, is it really you? I had not thought to overtake you for at least another hour or more.”
Nicole gave a shaky laugh. “We have had a series of accidents; the latest you can see for yourself. Then with a throb of relief, she added, “Oh, Robert I am so glad to see you! Please take me home. Are they very much worried at Kings Road?”
Robert started to reply, but Galena, seated at Robert’s side, could contain herself no longer, and tumbling from Robert’s gig, she ran up to her mistress. “Miss Nicole, I have been so frightened! I hurried home the instant you disappeared with Master Edward. I met Master Robert in the hall and learned that Lord Saxon was alive!” Throwing Robert a troubled look, she went on, “When I told him what had happened, he guessed instantly that Master Edward was planning a runaway marriage, and we came after you. No one knows where we are. Master Robert felt not a moment was to be lost, and he said that when we overtook your coach that you should have me with you for appearances’ sake.”
Nicole smiled reassuringly down at her worried face. “You’ve done the right thing, Galena. Let us leave this place and go home. I am tired; it seems all I have done is live on the ends of my nerves for the past hours.”
Robert took the cue from her words, and stepping down, he helped Nicole up into the gig. She took one glance at the broken-down vehicle and shuddered. Thank God she was out of Edward’s clutches.
After having seen the women seated, Robert, a grim cast to his features, started purposefully toward the other vehicle, but Nicole called him back, “Robert! No! Let him be.”
At Robert’s stunned look, she said persuasively, “He can do nothing further tonight. I have wounded him with his own sword and tomorrow will be time enough for us to act. Please, for my sake, let us be off.”
“My dear, I would do anything for you, but I cannot stand the thought of that fellow escaping with nothing more than a wound given to him by a woman He needs to face a man.”
“He will, Robert, he will. But tomorrow, please? The hour grows late, and as no one else knows where I am, they all must be frantic with worry, so please, please take me home.”
Robert’s face was turned away from her, so she didn’t notice the peculiar expression that flitted across it. Taking one last look at Edward’s disabled coach, he said, “Very well, my dear, if that is what you want. I shall have my satisfaction of him later. That you cannot deny me.”
“Nor would I want to, Robert. Nor would I want to.”
Robert climbed swiftly back into the gig, turned his horses, and once again, Nicole was on the way back to Brighton, this time in much, much more convivial company,actually enjoying it, despite the cramped seating and the bite of the cool night air. She spared no thought for Edward, only thankful that she had escaped with so little injury.
Nicole erred in her judgment of Edward’s state. She should have realized that Edward was a desperate young man. Edward had recognized Robert Saxon’s voice, and clutching the sword cane, he had slipped out the other side of the disabled coach and hid behind it. Oh, he would fight to keep Nicole, but not here, here on a main road, with four witnesses.
From his hiding place he watched as Robert swung his gig about and started on the journey back. Feeling safe from retribution, he stepped out from behind the carriage, and ignoring the twinge of pain in his shoulder and the bloodstains that marred his beautifully cut pale blue jacket, he demanded that one of the horses be cut loose—he would go for help. He wasn’t sitting the night out in a cold uncomfortable carriage waiting for them to do something.
There was a brief acrimonious argument, but Edward got his way. A few moments later, astride a strapping barebacked coach horse, he set off down the road, presumably on his way for help.
Edward had no intention of going after help. Marriage to Nicole was now out of the question—but murder wasn’t. With the sword cane strapped to his waist by a strip of leather from the harness of the coach team, he set off in pursuit.
It would be a tragedy, he thought, a mysterious tragedy. Lord Saxon’s son and Miss Nicole Ashford and her maid murdered on the Brighton Road by an unknown assailant! Brilliant! The answer to all his problems. And no witnesses. Precisely how he was going to get the three of them to let him stab them to death was a point Edward had not yet decided upon At the worst, his identity hidden behind the handkerchief that would be tied across his face, he would make a wild thrust for Nicole and escape.
Unaware of the stalker a short distance behind them, Robert and his passengers made their way toward Brighton. Except Robert, like Edward, had different plans from the ones stated.
Robert had not started out on this journey with any real plan other than to rescue Nicole from Edward. It wasn’t until he had Nicole safe that his decision not to return her to Kings Road was made. Instead he would take her to the small house of his near Rottingdean. There he would convince her of his love and make her realize that she must marry him.
Nicole had no idea of Robert’s plans, but she had been uneasy from the moment she had learned that no one else knew what had happened. Her liking and admiration for Robert had long since died and she was wary and suspicious of him. But he had rescued her from a dangerous situation and for that she was grateful. She quelled the disobliging wish that her rescuer had been someone other than Robert Saxon. And as they traveled down the moonlit road, Robert made polite conversation, deftly turning her thoughts away from the trauma of the night. She felt a prick of remorse—he was being so kind.
Her feeling of remorse lasted for all of thirty-five minutes. Then as he guided his horses off the main road onto a side road leading to the left, she asked sharply, “Where are we going? Brighton is ahead of us, not this way.”
“I know, my dear, but I thought we should stop by my house. It is much closer. You are chilled and my housekeeper will prepare a hot mulled wine that will drive the cold from your body,” he replied smoothly his eyes on his horses. “There will be a fire on the hearth to warm you, and I shall send one of my servants with news of your whereabouts. As you said, they all must be worried beyond belief about you. When my message reaches my father, I’m positive it will not be many minutes before they all arrive at the house. Instead of a cold and drafty gig to take you home, you’ll travel in comfort, surrounded by my relieved family.”
It was an enticing picture, but Nicole mistrusted it. And unless Robert’s house came into view very shortly, she would mistrust his words even more.
Edward, cold and uncomfortable, but following doggedly behind them, had whistled silently in surprise when Robert turned the gig off the main road. What was Saxon up to? A sneer curved his mouth, and he laughed to himself. A little seduction, perhaps? Whatever reasons Saxon had for following this road, they suited Edward admirably. A deserted country lane this time of night was far more appropriate for cold-blooded purposes than the main road to Brighton.
Fondling the sword cane, he kicked his horse, intending to overtake the gig and have the business done. But his mount, trained as part of a team of coach horses, proved recalcitrant. Not only did the animal not respond to Edward’s urgings, but it began to wheedle and cavort, fighting against the reins. Fearful of falling off, for Edward was no expert rider, he desisted and with growing fury had to allow the horse to proceed at his own pace, a steady plod. Edward managed to get just enough speed from his horse not to lose track of his prey.
As the miles went by them it was obvious, at least to Nicole, that Robert had lied outright. By now if he had stayed on the main road, they would have been home, and her uneasiness grew. Galena must have sensed her uneasiness, for like a child she had slipped her small hand in
to Nicole’s.
Robert was driving to the southeast toward the sea, and Nicole could smell the scent of the salt-laden air. Turning her head to look at him, she asked, “Exactly where is your house?”
Robert smiled at her. “Not more than a mile from here. It is on the sea; I often lie awake at night listening to the pounding of the surf.” Lowering his voice, he said, “Your mother claimed it was the most delightful house she had ever visited.”
Nicole felt her stomach lurch at the implication, but not wishing to bring up the ugly story now, she forced herself to give a careless shrug. Fortunately, Robert’s house came into view a mile down the road.
Chapter 14
Robert’s house was not large, but it was cozy and comfortable. The entrance hall was tiny, but the drawing room where Nicole was ushered by one of Robert’s servants was handsomely appointed. A fire leaped on the stone hearth, as Robert’s housekeeper served her a cup of hot spiced wine.
Her stained pelisse was thrown on a nearby chair, and standing in front of the fire, Nicole warmed herself and sipped the hot liquid. Eyeing Robert over the rim of her cup, she asked, “When are you going to write to your father? Shouldn’t you be doing it before the hour grows much later?”
“Ah, yes, my dear, I shall do it, this very moment,” Robert agreed and sitting down at a rosewood-inlaid desk, proceeded to do so. Sending her a smiling look, and taking the folded note with him, he walked to the door and stepped out into the hall. Suspicious of him, Nicole flew across the room, slipped the door open a crack, and watched him intently.
Robert was alone in the hallway, standing with his back to Nicole. She watched as he ripped the note into shreds and dropped the scraps in a large copper urn. He turned so quickly, coming back toward the drawing room, that Nicole had no time to shut the door and had barely enough time to race across the room to her position before the fire.