Talk about female hysterics. Piper was mildly disgusted with herself for such a display. It worked, nonetheless. Wilkes either knew Rutledge better than she thought…
Or he believed her.
“Piper!” Temple protested, earning a pistol whip to the head for his trouble. Behind her, Ian rained down a deluge of Gaelic curses. He hefted his rifle like a cricket bat, ready to attack. Five armed men against two—and a half, if they counted the semi-conscious Tam—and a single knife. What more could they do in the face of superior weaponry?
“So be it. I don’t kill for sport and don’t fancy bringing the crown down upon my head any more than I welcome Rutledge’s wrath.” Wilkes must have recognized Temple and been familiar with his position in the government to make the comment.
Whatever it was that compelled him to comply, Piper didn’t care. He ordered his men to load their injured. “Collect their weapons and horses, too.”
“No,” Piper retorted, brandishing her weapon as a reminder. “My friends need medical attention. They keep their horses.”
“So they might follow?” Wilkes laughed dryly. “I don’t think so. The only reason they live now is because I’m not paid by the body.”
“They won’t follow,” she promised and glanced at Temple. “You won’t. Swear it.”
Temple’s glare shifted from Wilkes to Piper, though he nodded. “I swear.”
“More to the point, they follow, they’re dead.” Wilkes aimed his gun at Temple’s head. “You got that?”
Temple shot daggers from his eyes, and Wilkes had him bound hand and foot for it. It wouldn’t hold him long with the twins remaining untied, but would delay him long enough that he couldn’t follow and get himself killed for the trouble.
Whatever lay before her, Piper had to be content with that.
Leading her horse off to the side, she remounted. There was not a single portion of her being that did not protest her compliance. There was no way she was going to sacrifice Temple, Ian, and Tam for the sake of her freedom. She had to be satisfied with knowing the three men would live. She prayed that was the case. The twins were already injured; she had no idea how severely. She’d have to find a way to elude her captors. To get away.
To get back to Connor.
Holding her gun at the ready, Piper made sure all Wilkes’s men were ahead of her before she kicked her mount into motion. Wilkes rode beside her, though she maintained a measured distance between them until they were well down the road and she was certain they wouldn’t go back to kill the others.
“I can’t believe you would do this,” she sneered at him. “I thought you said you were a decent bloke?”
“What can I say? I have five hungry mouths to feed.”
“I thought it was three.”
Wilkes frowned then shook his head with a laugh. “You caught me there.”
“Are you even a farrier?”
His laughter rang in her ears all the way into town.
Chapter 30
I dreamt he had me again. It seemed so real.
~ from the diary of Piper Brudenall, July 1893
“What happened? I’ll tell ye what bloody well happened,” Ian griped as Connor scowled down at them. “Tam’s got himself shot in the back.”
“Lucky it dinnae hit my kidney,” Tam groaned, as his brother knotted the torn arm of his shirt around the wound to staunch the blood flow. “I could’ve died.”
“Ye still might, ye daft diddy,” Ian told him, his face ashen. Whether it was his own blood loss or his twin’s dire condition that had him worried, Connor wasn’t certain. Either way, his rush of anger faded to apprehension. “All that blood, could have nicked something vital.”
“As long as it wisnae my bawbag.” Tam managed a wan grin. “Dinnae fash, I’m no’ going to die today. Fortune teller told me at that exhibition we went to last spring at the Earl’s Court that Ian would keel over before me, and he’s fine and dandy, ain’t he?”
“That auld witch told ye that? What was her name? Raya? Runa?”
“Riya Singh,” Tam managed a bare whisper.
Ian shook his head and tied the other arm he’d torn from his shirt around his thigh, where a bullet had passed through. Another had dug a furrow out of his shoulder and a rivulet of blood trailed down his forehead.
Despite the multitude of injuries, he appeared far more healthy than his twin. Despite the frantic urgency to get after Piper, Connor experienced a deep foreboding as he and Ian helped Tam to his feet. They needed to get him on a horse and into Aylesbury to the physician as soon as possible.
“Point is, they got her.” Ian wagged his head with true regret. “Sorry, brother.”
“It’s no’ yer fault,” Connor assured him. He held Tam steady while Ian mounted, and gave him a leg up. His cry of pain rang in Connor’s ear. “None of us kent the lengths Rutledge would go to.”
The sight of his brothers laid low, particularly as a result of coming to his aid, sent a hint of fear through Connor. The first he’d known thus far. For all Rutledge’s reputation and his concern for Piper, he’d never truly considered how far the duke would go in his obsession. That he would kill to get what he wanted.
“I’m more than sorry for all of this,” he confessed. “Where is Temple? Did they take him too?”
“Nay. He’s following them. Either they went into Aylesbury or turned south at the next crossroad to circle back around to Dinton Grange, I dinnae ken. They’ve no’ come back past us.” Ian nudged his horse into motion. Connor and Albert positioned themselves on either side of him to keep Tam upright should he start to keel over.
Ian relayed what had happened in quick detail. How they’d been followed from the Grange, taken by surprise, and outnumbered. And that Piper had recognized her captor, though Ian hadn’t known how.
“She did it to save us, foolish lass. Dinnae realize they could’ve circled back to kill us anyway. He would’ve stayed to help us, but Tam insisted he track down yer lass, obstinate bastard. Tam, no’ Temple.”
“Aye, I am,” Tam agreed hazily, leaning against his brother’s back.
“Dinnae fret about Temple. They’ll never see him,” Ian guaranteed. They were all well aware of the agent’s history and experience in espionage. Alone, he could be next to invisible. “Now, go. Git after them.”
“I cannae leave ye like this.”
“Go,” Tam insisted. “Git yer lass.”
Connor hesitated. “I’ll leave Albert to help ye.”
Ian shook his head. “There’s five of them left. More if there were others meeting them. Ye’ll need all the firepower ye can get.”
“We have that,” Connor assured him and with another grimace, spurred his horse into a run.
God help the man who dared lay a hand on Piper. There would be far more blood spilled than his brothers’ had already given to the earth.
* * *
With each mile, Connor’s dread elevated, and he gnashed his teeth in frustration. He’d finally found something in life to rank above all else, yet he felt as if he were failing to cherish it properly. Failing miserably.
He had no idea if he was going the right direction, where Rutledge would have Piper taken, or even if Temple remained in pursuit or had lost them. The English countryside was vast. Without a clue to follow, he might have well been chasing his tail for all the progress he made.
“She has a way of making men love her without knowing it,” Albert murmured as they rode. “Maybe she’ll charm them into releasing her?”
Piper had three men risk their lives for her after a days’ acquaintance. She’d stolen Connor’s heart before it managed a single beat upon seeing her. Despite her innate ability, as much as he liked the idea of her enchanting her captors to the point of them freeing her, Connor wasn’t going to count on it.
They reached the crossroads on the outskirts of Aylesbury without sign of Temple or Piper. Coming upon the latter of the two would have been a stroke of luck Connor had no expectation of being b
lessed with. On the other hand, Temple was smart enough to know Connor wouldn’t waste time scouring side streets and alleys without cause and would await him in clear view if he knew something.
“Maybe we should go back to the Grange,” the groom suggested, having expressed his own doubts and worries that they were wasting their time along the way. “They may have gone that way. If not, we could press the duke for information.”
“If he’s still there.”
“Or m’lady’s mum,” the older man opted. “She might know where he would take her.”
She might. Connor considered the possibility. Could he take the chance to spend a half hours’ time to backtrack with the expectation that Lady Sedmouth would suddenly summon the morality to spare her daughter? Or was it more likely she would offer denials of knowledge and culpability to delay and mislead them further?
Given the brief interaction he’d had with the woman, Connor wasn’t willing to risk any progress they might have made based on Celeste’s maternal instincts. He’d rather bank on Temple’s skills.
Look forward, rather than back-stepping.
They took the Gatehouse Road to the right, bypassing the town center. A few minutes later, Connor pulled to a halt again as they reached the intersection leading to the train station to the right or left into the village. Indecision ate at him. Their original plan had been to depart from Aylesbury Station. However, their alternate plan, should they discover the station under guard by the duke’s men, had been to flee further afield to the connecting station at Leighton Buzzard ten miles to the east. Had Temple rescued Piper, would they have gone on to that point?
Possibilities were all he had. She might well be on the other side of town by now and the distance between them growing. Likewise, they could have indeed circled back to Dinton Grange.
Albert, too, appeared torn on which direction to go. “I’ve been watching out for m’lady since she was a wee girl. Her brother might have been the one to teach her to ride, but I set her on her first horse. Picked her up when she fell.”
“Ye saved her from this bastard once before and dinnae want to fail her this time.” Connor nodded in understanding. “I ken what yer saying. Ye’re welcome to turn back and try yer hand at interrogating Lady Sedmouth.”
“I’m saying I’m afraid for her,” Albert admitted in a low mumble. “I love the girl like she was my own. I can’t bear the thought of seeing her as she was before. I can’t fail her.”
“We will no’,” Connor promised with grim determination, hands tight on his reins and a prayer on his lips that it wasn’t a lie.
Glancing around at their options one more time, he sat straighter in his saddle and breathed a sigh of relief as a familiar face came into view. “Nay, we will no’. Thank God. Let’s go.”
They kicked their horses into a gallop and stopped near the train station which bustled with foot traffic and carts, both hand drawn and horse pulled.
“Took you long enough,” Temple muttered as he emerged from the shadows. “How are your brothers?”
“They’ll survive,” Connor answered, hoping it was the truth. “They won’t be far behind us. They’ll need a doctor.”
Temple nodded. “What we could use is a gunsmith. Unfortunately, there isn’t one in town. Did you bring my other Wembley?”
“We did better than that. What are we facing?”
“It isn’t good.”
“Wisnae expecting it to be.”
Chapter 31
Mother has licked her wounds and is returning to London. Jane will soon follow and promises to send news as she hears it. She doesn’t understand why I ran. Why I hide. I fear I am too humiliated to speak the words, even to my dearest friend.
~ from the diary of Piper Brudenall, August 1893
A fist pounded on the closed door and Piper gave a start despite the fact she’d been expecting the interruption. Wilkes might have insisted she change into a dress and “become a proper lady again” once he discovered the contents of her valise, but he wouldn’t let her hide out forever.
“I’m indisposed,” she called through the door to buy herself a few more moments.
Regrettably, she hadn’t had time enough to determine a plan of escape. If there was even one to be had. She hadn’t wasted a moment of that time changing her clothes either. Should the occasion to run present itself, she didn’t intend to be hampered by long skirts.
Not that she anticipated such an opportunity.
Having been disarmed—and subjected to a litany of unique profanities once the lack of bullets had been discovered—and confined under guard, her options were sadly limited.
She’d been brought to this inn, The Brass Bell, and confined to a private room to await Rutledge. With a clear view of St. Mary’s outside her window, Piper knew there was more to dread than the duke’s displeasure. The quaint stone church was the oldest in Aylesbury, dating from the twelfth century.
As charming as the chapel was, and intriguing the fifth century crypts below it, she was thankful she had only a view of it from the outside rather than within at the moment. Each Sunday of her childhood, she’d sat in the Marquis of Aylesbury’s boxed pew and stared up at the golden altar with awe and wonder. If the events of the day followed as she feared, her viewpoint would be vastly divergent. Sanctuary would not be what she found there today.
The anger that sustained her on the short ride into town gave way to anxiety. Soon…too soon, she would be forced up the aisle. Had she gone inside three months ago instead of wish-washing about it, she wouldn’t be in this position now.
There would be no one coming to her rescue. Again.
Yes, and who’s fault was that?
She’d given up her protectors without regret, and the deed had left her defenseless. With Tam and Ian injured and Temple having given his oath not to follow, no one would know where she was.
She was alone.
The realization brought with it a crushing sense of defeat. An echo of years past when she’d been so utterly forlorn.
She had lost.
No. No! Piper berated herself. Not this time. She’d learned a thing or two since then. Become a stronger person, a better one, along the way. She could not cower and let fate ride roughshod over her future any longer.
It was time to be the person she wanted to be. To shed her complacency and do something to free herself from his unconscionable situation. To summon her pluck and make not only Connor, but herself, proud.
She had to be strong. Fight. Be the person Connor saw when he watched her with love. Acknowledge the confidence he aroused in her, that power. She might prefer that he be here to inspire her, but she didn’t need him to be.
She would not be cowed by Rutledge. She would not bend to his will. She would not break. She could do this.
The question was, how?
Wilkes and one of his cohorts lingered in the hall. Another armed man paced below her window, cutting off her sole route to freedom beyond the door. One of the others had been sent with a message for Rutledge. The other had escorted their injured men to a physician. She had no idea what they intended to do with the bodies of the two who had succumbed to their injuries. While she might hope they were dull enough to report to the constable, she couldn’t count on it.
That gave her a trio of guards to overcome and not a lot of time to do it.
The pounding resounded on the portal. “Hurry on now. His grace won’t want a bride in breeches.”
“I’m almost finished,” she lied. Rutledge wouldn’t have a bride this day. Not if she had anything to say about it. Re-pinning her hair, she clapped her hat back on her head. “I’m famished,” she added to buy some time. “Have someone bring refreshment, if you would?”
“This ain’t no tea party, miss,” Wilkes hissed, his ire evident even through the door.
A sarcastic quip about troubling them leapt to her lips and Piper bit it back. Considering the possibilities, a hint of a smile lifted her lips for the first time all day. Wil
kes had labeled her a “church bell” for berating him the entire ride into Aylesbury, and told her repeatedly to shut her “sauce-box.” If there was nothing more vexing to a man than a troublesome woman—and Albert had assured her numerous times that there was not—then it followed that a demanding hostage would be far more irksome than a compliant one.
Anything to give her time to summon a proper plan.
“I haven’t eaten all day,” she complained, emulating her mother’s haughtiness. “Have a tray brought to me straightaway.”
“I’m not a—”
“No darjeeling or hyson,” she cut in. “Make it pekoe. And ensure it’s hot.”
“My la—”
“Oh, and fresh cream.”
“You’re in no—”
“Do not forget toast,” she demanded. Talking about food brought a rumble of protest from her belly, a reminder she hadn’t eaten in truth. “Not too brown. With marmalade and honey. And a rasher of bacon. I should hate to faint at the altar.”
A muttered curse made its way to her ears, followed by infuriated footfalls that faded away. There were no more protests from without and no more demands for her to hurry.
With a satisfied smile, Piper circled the room, searching for a means of escape. It was but moments before she began a second rotation. No more than nine-feet square, a cherry four-post bed filled most of the space. A table at one side of it held an oil lamp on a lace doily. Another spindly legged table and a wingback chair crowded a wool rug by the fireplace. A washstand stood in the corner. Other than some hooks on the wall and a dismal watercolor landscape on the white-washed wall, there was nothing to offer any inspiration.
A Question for the Ages (Questions for a Highlander Book 7) Page 27