Knight For A Lady (Brides By Chance Regency Adventures Book 3)

by Elizabeth Bailey

  Warmth flooded her face and she had to look away. She was grateful when he did not pursue it, instead asking if she felt ready to be driven out.

  “Yes, indeed.” She got up, finding her knees steady enough. “Only give me a moment to put on a bonnet and a wrap of some kind.”

  It did not take her long to prepare, though she took the precaution of offloading the liquids she’d imbibed before subjecting her person to the jolting of a carriage. Niall was waiting, his hat on his head. He regarded the spencer she’d donned with approval.

  “It is warm enough, but there is a little wind. I’ve a rug in the phaeton, however, if you should be cold.”

  So eager was Edith to be out of the house at last, even for a short time, she thought it immaterial if she became a trifle chilled. In the event, the sun was strong enough this early August day to provide a constant source of pleasant heat, despite the slight breeze induced by the passage of the carriage. Edith settled to enjoyment, relishing the different views and the open countryside, drawing fresh air into her lungs. She felt immeasurably more relaxed, the stresses of the past days fading from her immediate thoughts. This was precisely what she needed.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Niall kept his horses to a trot and headed along the road leading back to his estates. He was gratified to see Edith’s shoulders relax as she sat back, holding her face up to the sun.

  “This is heavenly.”

  “Yes, it’s a fine day.”

  He would have wished to answer in a more intimate manner, but the presence of his groom up behind precluded anything but the most commonplace of conversations. Besides, if he meant to free Edith from the burden of her fear, the less said about Kilshaw the better. Only he was equally unable to say anything to further his suit, which he longed to do.

  In a short while, Edith spoke, relieving him of finding an innocuous subject.

  “This is your land, is it not?” She gave a casual wave towards the woods on the left. “I was used to roam here as a child, you know.”

  “Trespassing, eh?”

  A light laugh escaped her. “In fact, I had permission from your predecessor’s father. At least, he was generally amenable to the village children sallying forth to play at Robin Hood or some such thing. As long as we did not disturb his birds or steal eggs from their nests.”

  He glanced round at her and found her twinkling at him. Suspicion burdened.

  “We? Are you expecting me to believe you were allowed to tag along after the boys?”

  “Gracious, no. They would have threatened us with stones from their sling shots if we got too close.”

  “You and who else?”

  “My friend the Dancing Bear.”

  Niall jerked his head round, startled. “The what?”

  She erupted into gurgling laughter, and the carefree sound sent warmth into Niall’s chest.

  “You are roasting me, are you not?”

  “Oh, no, I did have a dancing bear for a friend, only no one else could see him.”

  A pang smote Niall. She had evidently been a lonely child, for all the vicar’s kindness. He knew not what to say that could be said within his groom’s hearing. But Edith did not wait for his reply.

  “You need not be thinking I had no friends. There were one or two girls in the village, but they had little leisure.”

  “But you surely did not wander the woods alone?”

  “I wasn’t alone. I had Dancing Bear.” He must have shown his disapproval, for she broke into laughter again. “You are such an easy target, my lord. Of course there was a nursemaid with me. Extremely bored, poor girl, and disinclined to join in our dance.”

  “So you and Dancing Bear performed solo?”

  “Well, I cannot altogether blame her. He had a marked preference for the minuet, and of course my nurse had not been taught the steps.”

  He had to laugh. “I can see why your pupils found enjoyment in you if you allowed your imagination rein on their behalf too.”

  “Heavens, don’t say you doubt me! Why, Dancing Bear came with me to Bath, you must know, and I introduced him to several of my girls.”

  “I’ll warrant you did.”

  He was both amused and touched. If he had delighted in her wit, Niall was the more charmed to discover the depth of her sympathetic nature. What a treasure he had chosen for his bride. If, he reminded himself, he succeeded in winning her.

  The sound of hoof beats in the rear of the carriage made him draw a little in to one side of the road.

  “Someone is in a hurry,” Edith remarked, with a glance behind.

  “We will allow them to pass. I’ve no wish to proceed at that pace.”

  “No, indeed.”

  “How far behind is it, Sorrell?”

  His groom was craning his neck to see. “Out of sight behind the bend, my lord, but sounds like several horses. Might be a coach.”

  “Travelling at that speed? I hardly think so.”

  The hoof beats became louder, and Niall caught a flash of a vehicle in the periphery of his vision.

  “Curricle and four, my lord,” reported the groom.

  Niall’s own pair were growing restive. He held them in, uttering soft blandishments. “Steady, now! Steady!” He waited for the vehicle to pass but he saw no creeping horses’ heads to his right. “What the devil is the fellow doing?”

  “He’s holding the road, my lord. Don’t look as if he means to pass.”

  Niall threw a glance behind and saw the curricle coming up on the rear of the phaeton. The driver had not abated his shocking pace.

  “He’s gaining on us, my lord.”

  “Well, damn it, he’ll have to slow down!”

  Edith had said no word up to now and he looked round, intending to reassure her that he had his horses well in hand. She was half turned in her seat, looking back towards the vehicle behind, her face stark white. A whisper left her lips. “It’s Kilshaw!”

  Niall’s expletive rent the air and his sudden urgency communicated to his horses, who sped up without his giving them the office. As well, for the curricle behind had almost come up with the phaeton.

  “He’s slowing down, my lord.”

  But the curricle slowed only enough to keep pace with Niall’s pair. If he allowed them to drop back, the horses behind would tangle with the back of his own vehicle. Niall cursed. “The man’s a lunatic!”

  Madman or no, his antics were like to bring the lot of them to grief. Niall took his pair to a fast canter, aware of the danger of the manoeuvre.

  “Take care, my lord, you’ll have us over!”

  Niall ignored his groom’s warning. “Keep your eye out for a likely lane.”

  He was himself sweeping the edges of the woods on either side, his sharpened gaze half on the prospect of his escape and half on the road ahead. Thank the Lord it was free of traffic! They’d seen none but a yokel trudging at the side of the road with a basket on his shoulders and a loaded wagon Niall had passed a mile back.

  “He’s holding behind, my lord.”

  Of which Niall was only too well aware. He knew too how the country road was not near as wide as the main arteries that criss-crossed Warwickshire, giving access to the bigger towns. If the phaeton and its pursuing curricle should come upon another vehicle, a spill was almost inevitable.

  “Hold hard, Sorrell! I’m going to try something.”

  “Have a care, my lord, for he’s right on your tail!”

  Sound advice, but what choice had he? Niall glanced once at Edith, who had not moved from her skewed position, her eyes fixed upon Kilshaw in the vehicle behind.

  “Hang on tight, Edith!”

  Her gaze spun, meeting his for a brief second, enough for Niall to read the terror within. She said never a word, but tightened her grip on the side and edge of the seat, only nodding once.

  “Good girl!”

  Bracing, Niall steadied his hands upon the reins and set his pair to the gallop. The vehicle shot forward, drawing away from the
curricle. But the speed was as shocking as Kilshaw’s had been when he caught them up.

  The phaeton rattled and shook, bouncing over the uneven surface. Niall dared not look round, but the sound of the hoofs behind told him Kilshaw was following suit.

  “He’s keeping up, my lord,” the groom confirmed.

  Just as Niall had expected. The road ahead was straight and clear. He let the horses have their heads for the space of half a minute. He gave a brief warning. “Wait for it!”

  Then he tightened his hands on the reins, guiding his pair to the right. The horses plunged across the road. The vehicle swung violently, the passengers in imminent danger of being thrown out.

  The curricle thundered past on the left. Niall instantly hauled on the reins, bringing the pace of his animals under control again.

  “It worked, my lord. He was going too fast to change direction.”

  Exactly as Niall had foreseen. Or at least hoped. He took his eyes off his horses briefly, looking ahead to the curricle which had gone some distance. With four horses to control, Kilshaw’s task was a deal trickier than Niall’s.

  Edith’s voice came, tight with tension. “He’s slowing down. He does not mean to let us alone.”

  The curricle’s pace was indeed slowing, much to Niall’s chagrin. Though what the devil had he expected? The man was off his head!

  A ball of tightness in his gut, Niall slowed the pace again, scanning the woods. The set of the trees took on familiarity. He knew this part. He’d ridden here with Eddows. Now where was it they had left the main thoroughfare?

  “My lord, I think he’s going to block the road!”

  Niall glanced back at the curricle. Kilshaw had pulled up his team and was backing them.

  “Damn the fellow to hell!”

  Perforce, Niall slowed to a walk, keeping to the right side of the road.

  The curricle came to a stop again and then began to move forward, matching the phaeton’s pace. It swung directly into Niall’s path.

  “He’s not going to let you pass, my lord.”

  “No sense in passing him. He’s got twice my speed and would catch up in a trice.”

  “What do you mean to do, my lord?”

  “Turn off, if I can.”

  He was angry now, but he thrust it down. He was not a soldier for nothing. He’d learned to keep his head and let his emotions go hang. But Edith was not similarly trained. He looked round to see her sitting rigid in the seat, staring ahead. “Don’t lose heart, Edith. We’ll get out of this.”

  She threw him a glance, her features strained. “Don’t mind me. Do what you have to do.”

  Niall nodded and she turned away again. He concentrated on the task in hand and his mind presented him with an image. Was there not a worn path a little further on the left? It led into his own lands, short cutting towards a couple of farms. It was scarcely a road or lane, not even a bridle path, but the farmers were apt to draw small carts along it, Eddows had told him.

  He measured the distance between his own vehicle and the curricle. If he took the man by surprise again, it might work.

  “Now we’ll see,” he muttered, and urged his horses to a trot.

  Kilshaw, presumably alerted by the groom beside him, who was watching, did the same.

  Within a couple of hundred yards, Niall spotted the break in the trees to the left which signalled the position of the lane. He did not have long.

  Shifting his horses to the centre of the road, he watched the curricle follow suit. He held the crown of the road, keeping his eyes on the break. With a short distance to go, he suddenly swung to the right again and waited for the curricle to follow. Then he swung left, speeding up as he did so. The horses cantered across the road, heading for the break. Despite himself, Niall’s heart was in his mouth as he kept an eye out for what Kilshaw might do.

  “Brace yourselves!”

  As well he yelled, for the curricle swerved just as Niall was about to take the turn. For a second, a collision seemed inevitable. Abandoning his plan, Niall whipped up his horses and shot past the curricle, narrowly avoiding his vehicle being squashed into the trees on the left.

  A cry escaped Edith’s lips and his groom swore aloud.

  And then hell was let loose as the curricle speeded up behind, forcing Niall to keep his horses at the gallop.

  The phaeton bounced alarmingly and he had all to do to keep it from overturning. He’d bungled his chance to escape and was doomed to hold to this shocking pace.

  He heard his groom shouting above the thunder of hooves.

  “I’ve got my pistol, my lord! I can fire over his head!”

  “No, for God’s sake! That will mean the devil to pay. You’ll spook the horses.”

  His own pair was already in a lather of fear and fit to bolt. He could feel them straining. They’d be spent in a matter of minutes if he couldn’t bring them down from the gallop. His own muscles were stretched to breaking. He had to do something!

  A gap in the trees showed up on the right. In a split second decision, Niall swung right off the road. With a crashing of wood against branches, the phaeton plunged into the trees.

  His attention fully engaged, Niall negotiated what he took to be an ancient track, well overgrown. He slowed the horses to a walk, certain the curricle could not follow. Besides, at that pace, Kilshaw would have had an impossible job to swerve a team.

  “He’s gone past, my lord,” confirmed the groom even as the thought occurred. “Couldn’t get them in here.”

  “Keep your eyes on him, Sorrell. Watch what he does. And duck!”

  A branch directly ahead cut right across the track. Dipping his own head, Niall felt the leaves brush his head and realised he must have lost his hat in the wild ride. He kept on going, though there was only just room for the phaeton, its wheels flaying twigs and leaves from the trees at either side.

  “Road’s out of sight, my lord. I can’t see him any more.”

  They must have penetrated a good two or three hundred yards into the forest. Niall caught sight of a small glade off to one side and directed his horses into it, at last bringing the vehicle to a halt.

  “Go to their heads, Sorrell!”

  The groom jumped down and ran to soothe the horses. Their sides were heaving. Even from here, Niall could see flecks of foam flying from their mouths. Steam rose from the velvet backs.

  Niall found himself panting as hard as his cattle as he released the reins at last, and flexed his hands against the pain in the muscles there.

  He turned at last to Edith. She was white of face, her body shaken by violent tremors. Without hesitation, Niall gathered her into a close embrace, holding her hard and murmuring words over which he had no control.

  “I’m sorry. So sorry. You’re safe now, my love. It’s all over.”

  She made no attempt to free herself, and he kept her enfolded in his embrace until the shivers began to abate.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  With the panic over, the enormity of the danger in which they’d stood loomed large in Edith’s mind. She recognised her body’s trembling as the after-effect of shock and was grateful for Niall’s comforting hold. She lost it soon enough.

  Releasing her, he took her by the shoulders, a frown in his eyes. “Are you sufficiently recovered to manage without me for a space?”

  She drew a shaky breath. “I will do.”

  There was no smile, and it struck her he was blazingly angry. His voice remained steady, although Edith detected a hard edge.

  “Don’t move from here. I’m going to check on Kilshaw.”

  He fumbled under the seat and Edith’s shock revived when he produced a pair of pistols.

  “What are you going to do?”

  He jumped down from the phaeton, turning with a grim look in his face. “I won’t shoot him out of hand, don’t worry. Though I’d give much to do just that.”

  “But two pistols, Niall?”

  “I may need to fire a warning shot. If I discharge one,
I still won’t be disarmed.”

  The thought flashed through her mind that this was the soldier at work, and she felt a flare of admiration as he turned to his groom.

  “You have yours, Sorrell?”

  She watched the servant unearth a rough-looking weapon from his own pocket, and Niall nodded approval.

  “Keep an eye out! I’m relying on you to take care of Miss Westacott.”

  And then he was away, creeping through the trees almost without sound in the direction of the road. It was evident he had ample experience of a like situation, for Edith lost sight of him in a moment and she could swear she’d seen him slip from tree to tree for the first fifty yards or so.

  Her pulse had begun to settle, but its rhythm speeded up again as Edith’s mind presented her with the possibility of Lord Kilshaw seeing Niall first. He would have no compunction in pulling the trigger. A man who could risk so many lives in such a hazardous enterprise as that in which he’d just engaged would think nothing of putting a period to Niall’s existence. She’d known he was determined, ruthless even. But the fear he was indeed insane now gripped her.

  What else was one to think of a man so obsessed he cared nothing for her feelings or wishes? A man in possession of his senses would not seek to terrorise the female he wanted to win. And he had put her in terror, with his spying and veiled messages, and now this.

  Edith could not remember ever having experienced a like depth of fear. Even now, the memory of the clamour of hooves that had frozen thought had the power to revive it in echo. She’d had all to do to keep her seat with the swaying and bouncing of the carriage. How Niall had held his horses together through it all, she’d never know. His skill with the ribbons was masterly, his strength unparalleled.

  Her heart glowed, and then fired with renewed fear for his safety. She wanted to run after him, to fly to his defence if she could. Common sense told her she’d be in his way, only adding to his difficulties for he would be obliged to think of her safety as well as his own.

  An explosion made her jump with some violence, the breath suspended in her chest.

  Edith heard the groom’s curse, but the sudden jerk of the phaeton as the horses tried to bolt forced her to seize hold of its side. To her relief, the groom brought them swiftly under control again, uttering soft blandishments and stroking their noses.