Highroad

by Jeanie P Johnson

  When she opened the door, Grange came charging in. “My word Grange, where is the fire?” she asked as he almost knocked her down.

  “I knew you were planning something,” he growled. “You talked some young lad into becoming a highwayman, didn’t you? Don’t you know how dangerous that is? You are going to get the boy killed!” He grabbed her shoulders and started shaking her, and in the process, she let go of the front of her robe, and it fell open, revealing her nude body.

  “Grange!” she shrieked. “What has gotten into you?” She grappled with the flapping sides of her robe, with shaking hands.

  Grange stood staring at her, taking in the upturned breasts, as her fingers tried to retrieve the front of the robe, that had fallen away. His heart was pounding out of his chest, when his eyes beheld her beauty, but all he could think of was Max ruining her for any other man. He grabbed up the sides of her robe, and pulled them closed, tying her sash, tightly around her waist. “So sorry, Lavonia, but you and I need to talk.”

  “Have you come here to compromise me, so I will be forced to become your wife?” she growled, as they entered the drawing room together. “Or are you still set on becoming my lover?” she asked, lowering her eyes. “This is highly improper, Grange, and you know it!”

  “You know why I have come, Lavonia! No sooner do we speak of a highwayman, and I joke about you talking someone into becoming one, when what do you know, a highway man shows up and robs the Wellingtons on their way to the benefit tonight. They claim it was a young Frenchman.” He grabbed her arm and set her down beside him on the settee. “So start explaining yourself!”

  “My word. He held up the Wellingtons?” she exclaimed.

  “Stop playing dumb. You know as well as I do, that you put someone up to this.”

  “What ever would I do that for, Grange? It’s not like I would want to help you find something to write about. This is just a fantastic coincidence!”

  “You said you were bored and wanted some excitement. I am not so fuddled headed to believe you would do this for me. You have done it for your own entertainment.”

  “I always knew your opinion of me was low,” she said, looking away, pretending to be hurt.

  “Damnation, Lavonia. You drive me crazy sometimes! I know you are behind this, so you had just better call your boy off.”

  “I have no boy to call off,” she said truthfully.

  “You are going to feel bad, if he gets himself shot,” Grange tried to persuade her to see his reasoning.

  “Certainly I would, if I knew the person. Even if I didn’t know the person, I would feel bad. I don’t wish anyone dead.”

  “Well someone is going to be, since people will start carrying a weapon with them when they go out now.”

  “You think so?” she asked, starting to feel slightly uncomfortable about the risk. But then she thought she would rather just be dead, than have to live the life she was living before she decided to turn Highwayman.

  “Of course they will. They will start arming their drivers and their footmen.”

  “Well, if I happen to be stopped by the highway man, I will mention that to him,” she laughed.

  Grange glared at Lavonia, but she did not flinch, as he tried to stare her down. Her stubbornness was starting to wear on him. He was going to have to take this into his own hands, he was thinking. But he wasn’t real sure how he would go about it yet? How was he going to convince her of the danger she was putting some poor person in, by persuading him to create a little excitement in their sleepy town?

  “Perhaps I should compromise you,” he whispered. “If you became my wife, I could keep my eye on you,” he murmured, thinking perhaps he could scare her into stopping the nonsense.

  “Dear, Grange, you know perfectly well, you would never do such a thing. I would be the last person you would ever want to be saddled with.”

  “You are probably right. You would certainly be a handful,” he murmured, as his lips came closer to her ear, and then she was shocked when she felt his hand slid under her robe to cup her breast. “A rather nice handful I might add,” he chuckled.

  Lavonia gasped, and then her hand came up and slapped Grange. “How dare you!” she shrieked. “Leave my house at once! I don’t wish to see you here again, Grange. Our friendship is over!”

  “Lavonia, please forgive me. I don’t know what came over me.”

  “Go find yourself a woman of the night, if you have such little control over your person,” she snapped, standing up. “Our conversation is finished!”

  Now I have done it, Grange thought angrily to himself. Why in the hell had he done that? Just when she was actually becoming his friend. But he knew that she was behind the highwayman holdup, and he was determined to get to the bottom of it.

  “You have not seen the last of me, Lavonia. Pushing me out of your house is not going to stop me from investigating this so called highwayman.”

  “Yes, Grange, do get an interview with him, and come tell me all about it. Better yet, don’t. I can read about it in your good for nothing rag!”

  She was following him to the door as she spoke. Her breast was throbbing where his hand had been, and she couldn’t understand why it had felt so pleasant to have his hand there?

  “Good-night,” he said in a strained voice, and her heart fell a little, knowing she would not see him come around any more, but it was better that way.

  She did not need Grange snooping around and discovering who the real highwayman was, and now he would be kept busy writing about the new turn of events, and trying to figure out who the highwayman actually was. She would be front page news once again, and he wouldn’t even know it, she chuckled to herself.

  Grange climbed up on his horse, so angry at himself, that he felt like going and drowning himself in a bottle of brandy or rum, or something to just put Lavonia out of his head. Now he was going to have to watch every move she made, and find out who she had conned into risking his life for her pleasure? He wondered if maybe it was her groom? He had noticed the boy, leading away the old nag she had been on when he came to take her to lunch. He wouldn’t put it past her to have talked him into it.

  He realized that now he was embroiled with her escapades in the same way he had been when he had written about her in his paper. There was a certain thrill to it, he realized, even though now she hated him again, as much as she had back then. On one hand he regretted it, and on the other hand it almost excited him, because once again he could spar with her when he did happen to meet with her face to face.

  Lavonia, pulled on the black ball gown. It made her skin look even whiter than it was. Her time out on the moor, riding Thunderbolt, did not affect her white skin, because she always wore long sleeves and a hat, so the sun never hit her. Now she looked at herself in the mirror, and realized she looked so much different than she had before Max had forced himself on her. She was thinner, but her breasts still rose enticingly in soft white mounds at the neck of her dress. Her shoulders were still as graceful as ever. She was deciding that black actually complimented her white skin and blond hair. And when she became the highwayman, she could still wear her black widow weeds, she laughed to herself.

  Mrs. Paddington had no desire to accompany her to the dance, which suited Lavonia just fine. She barely saw the woman except at meals, when Max’s mother chose to eat in the dinning hall, instead of her room. There were very few guests that ever came to the house. Just a few old women who came to have tea with Mrs. Paddington, from time to time, and Lavonia never joined them. She could have invited Jane over, she thought, but she did not feel like company, and Jane was still trying to snag a husband, and wouldn’t have anything in common with Lavonia.

  She would be late, as usual, but this was her first outing into society, since the death of Max, and so she wanted to make a stir. There was something in her nature that desired the attention. The sad part was that she would have to remain on the side lines, not dancing with anyone. Merely witnessing everyone else’s fun.
That was the part she was going to hate the most. She could not flit around flirting with the young men any longer. Perhaps she should take on a lover, she toyed, just to shock everyone! The thought made her think of how Grange’s hand felt on her breast, and how it had felt to kiss him. If that was all she had to endure, it might not be such a bad occupation, she thought quietly to herself.

  The foot man helped her into the carriage, and it was soon rocking over the cobbled road, in the direction of the dance hall, where the festivities were taking place. As she walked through the doors, and into the hall, it was in between dances, and everyone turned their head to see who entered. She could hear breaths being taken in. Everyone knew that her husband had died in their wedding bed. Grange had made it a point to mention it, perhaps as a slight to Max, or to her. She wasn’t sure. Maybe he wanted the men to believe that she was too much to handle in bed, she thought slyly, so no one would ever want to take her to his bed. Perhaps he was doing her a favor, considering her disgust that she relayed to him on the night of Max’s death.

  “My darling,” Grange, smiled, as he came to her side.

  “You are the last person I would consider being a darling to,” she smiled back.

  “Now, now, we must get over our little spat,” he said, leading her to a chair, up against one wall. “Sit down and I will bring you something to drink. You do look as charming as ever, even in black,” he complemented her, as he gave her a little bow, and went to get her some punch.

  More than just charming, Grange thought to himself. She was ravishing, and everyone who looked at her knew it. He hadn’t seen her since his slip up, and there had only been one highway robbery, since then. Perhaps what he had told her, had changed her mind about the whole charade. But knowing Lavonia, telling her to call off her man, was like telling her to continue letting him cause a stir.

  “Here you are,” he said, handing her the cup, and watching her sip the contents, while he gazed down at those breasts, one of which he had cupped in his hand. His hand burned at the very memory of it. “How have you been feeling?” he asked politely.

  “Completely marvelous, since you stopped disturbing my tranquility,” she said snidely.

  “You don’t know how much I miss the challenge of putting you out of sorts,” he responded.

  “Well, nothing you can do now, will do that,” she smiled. “I am perfectly content in my solitude.”

  “I never thought you would enjoy solitude. Is that why you came here tonight?”

  “Well, I did want to hear the gossip about the highwayman, you keep insisting I know something about.”

  “I am positive you know something about him. You just came to enjoy the fall out from it.”

  “If you say so,” she yawned. “Have you managed to get an interview yet?”

  “I’m working on it,” he chuckled. “If you introduced us, it would be a lot easier.”

  “I would love to, Grange, but then it wouldn’t be any fun any more, would it?”

  “Is that an admission that you actually know him?” he asked, hoping to trip her up.

  “I admit to nothing. You will have to ferret him out on your own. Hello, Marybeth,” she smiled as the young woman joined them.

  “I suppose you are discussing the outrageous highwayman,” Marybeth, simpered.

  “Perhaps you know him,” Lavonia, responded. “Grange is so sure that I do.”

  “He has to be someone from the town,” Grange pointed out. “He seems to know his victims.”

  “I don’t know of any Frenchmen in the town,” Lavonia, murmured. “You did say he was a Frenchman, didn’t you?”

  “Having a French accent, does not make you a Frenchman,” he chuckled. And then began talking in his own French accent.

  “Oh you do that so well,” Marybeth, cheered.

  “Yes, he certainly does,” Lavonia frowned. “Perhaps we have found our highway man. After all, being a highway man would give you something to write about, Grange, don’t you agree? And you are trying to blame it all on me!”

  Now she was trying to turn the tables on him, Grange grumbled to himself. “Good try, Lavonia, but I understand he does not have my tall of a stature, so I believe you are mistaken.”

  “Well if he ever held me up, I would hid my cash between my breasts, before I got out of the carriage,” Marybeth, confided. “He wouldn’t dare guess, since I hear he merely makes you empty your pockets and purse.”

  “Any smart highwayman, would know to look between your breasts,” Grange, laughed. “And ample breasts they are too,” he smiled gazing down at them.

  Marybeth tittered at his attention to her breasts. “We will just have to see if he is smart,” Marybeth smiled. “I hear he doesn’t hold up the same carriage twice. What is he going to do when he runs out of people to rob? Go to another town?”

  “What do you think, Lavonia?” Grange asked. “Do you think he will move on then?”

  “Why don’t you ask him when you finally get your interview?” she responded, and began fanning herself with her black feathered fan.

  “I think this is our dance,” Grange said to Marybeth, as the music started up, and he led her out onto the floor.

  Oh to dance again, Lavonia thought, as she watched the couples twirling around the floor. She would have to wait a whole year before she could dance and flirt again. She would probably lose her desire for it by then, she frowned, as she watched Marybeth flirting with Grange out on the dance floor. She wondered why it bothered her so much? She couldn’t stand the man herself.

  A few dances later, she was beginning to feel bored, and Grange had not come back to talk to her. She realized she had destroyed any small liking the man had for her, when she ordered him out of her house. But she could not let him get away with touching her like that, or she would end up married to him, and that was one thing she knew she did not want. However, watching Marybeth drool all over him, was beginning to turn her stomach. It was about time for Marybeth to have her own little scare, she thought delightfully to herself. Tonight the highwayman would strike again.

  She got up from her chair. “Leaving so soon?” Grange asked.

  “I feel a headache coming on,” she murmured, not looking into his eyes.

  “And you were acting so chipper, when you first got here,” he mentioned.

  “Well, I don’t feel chipper now,” she told him.

  “I will walk you to your carriage then,” he said, taking her hand, and placing it in his elbow.

  “If you must,” she said, allowing him to hold her arm there. There was a certain comfort to it, she thought, having a man on her arm. But having a hand down her front was something else all together.

  Grange handed her up into her carriage, but something about her expression, told him she was not leaving because of a headache. It was time he wrangled an interview with that illusive highwayman. He had a feeling the man would strike again tonight, and he believed he may be able to guess what road the boy would be waiting on.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Lavonia sat on Thunderbolt’s back. It seemed easier tonight. She was calm, and Thunderbolt seemed relaxed as well. She couldn’t wait to see the look on Marybeth’s face when she requested the money between her breasts. She wondered if it would be obvious that the highway man had been at the dance, and heard Marybeth make that statement? But then Grange had said that any smart highwayman would know to look between her breasts.

  She rode towards the rise, and as she approached, she pulled Thunderbolt up short. There was another rider waiting in the very spot she had planned to use, and she could see he had a mask on as well. What was he doing here? There were no highwaymen in this area, except for herself. When the rider saw her he rode towards her, so she held her place, to see what he would do, as she put her hand on the gun in her pocket.

  “I was told there was another man working the roads,” he said in an Irish accent. The man was big and a little frightening. “So I began to think that rather than fight him for territor
y, I would join him. Two men holding up a carriage together, is a lot safer than one. One can guard the carriage, while the other robs it.”

  “I have been doing quite nicely on my own,” Lavonia told him, lowering her voice and taking on the French accent again.

  “But you do not wish to spar with me about it do you? How inconvenient to keep running into each other, and having to find a different road to haut. If we joined forces, it would solve the problem.”

  “What are you doing here anyway?” she asked. “This town is too small for two highwaymen,” she insisted.

  “Not if they work together. I heard you were rather successful at your trade, and since I needed to add to my purse, I thought it was the perfect solution. You are so scrawny, you are not very frightening. You need someone to back you up.”

  “I have a gun to back me up,” she said boldly, brandishing her gun at him.

  “Put that thing away,” he bellowed. “You are a young inexperienced boy, and you are going to end up getting yourself killed.”

  “Have you not read the news? I am front page story. I know what I am doing. And for your information, I am a very good shot. You have nothing to worry about, unless you are in my sights, and I am intending to shoot you,” she bragged.

  “Very well. If you are so good, you can do the guarding, while I do the robbing.” he told her.

  “I haven’t decided to let you join me,” she frowned.

  “Well you had better make up your mind, because I hear a carriage coming right this moment.”

  “Oh, hell and Damnation,” she muttered. “This time you can join me. We will talk about future times later.”

  The Irish man gave her a smile. “I knew you would see it my way,” he taunted.

  As the carriage arrived, Lavonia took out her gun and shot the hat off of the driver.

  “Hell, you are a good shot,” the Irishman, grinned, and rode down with her to where the carriage had stopped.