by Lynsay Sands
"Aye, that's what you said," her father agreed grimly. "But I find it hard to believe that anyone would agree to an arrangement where they had to hunt down the payment themselves, or indeed that any respectable owner of a gaming establishment would even suggest it."
"Cerberus is hardly respectable," Jeremy muttered. His twiddling had picked up in speed so that the thumbs were whirling around and around each other very fast.
"Yes. So I've heard. I've been told he drugs and fleeces the unwary, like myself . . . which is why I find it so hard to believe that you won anything, let alone such a large sum."
Jeremy shifted impatiently and snapped, "Well, I did, which makes you most fortunate that I am willing to marry your daughter in lieu of payment, doesn't it? Can we change the subject now?"
Her father narrowed his eyes. "We have learned that Dicky led me to the gaming hell again and tricked me out of more money to ensure a friend of his could marry my Suzette as he had my Christiana," he said grimly. "And it's very odd that you happened to arrive to save the day just as my gel was getting her heart broken."
Suzette stared at her father, wondering when they had learned that. Obviously, it must have been discovered while she had been in the parlor with Lisa. What else had she missed? She frowned slightly and recalled that Daniel never had got around to telling her who had poisoned George. Not that she'd thought to ask him again. Cold as it was to admit, she was just glad the man was dead, doubly so now if he had planned to force her into an unwanted marriage too. Really, the only regret she had about Dicky's death was that she wished he'd suffered more.
"I have no idea what Dicky's motives were," Jeremy muttered. "And it was just happenstance that I arrived when I did. A happy coincidence that I ran into Suzette and heard her troubled tale."
He smiled at Suzette, but she didn't smile back. Her father's questions had drawn her far enough out of her self-pity so that her brain was starting to think again for the first time since receiving Daniel's letter.
"The only thing we know about this friend of Dicky's is that he is called 'Twiddly,' " her father announced, and stared meaningfully at Jeremy's hands, which had suddenly stilled mid twiddle. Mouth tightening, he accused, "You are the friend of Dicky's who planned to marry my Suzette. You were in on the scheme from the start, and the happy coincidence of your arriving just as the letter did tends to make me wonder if Daniel wrote it at all."
Suzette stiffened at the suggestion. He had her full attention now.
Cedrick Madison set his cane aside and turned to her to take her hands as he pointed out, "Daniel was damned eager to marry you, girl. He even asked me not to tell you about my selling the townhouse so that you wouldn't think you no longer had to marry."
"And you agreed to that?" she asked with amazement.
He shrugged. "You can be a stubborn girl, Suzette. And sometimes you are your own worst enemy. I had no trouble believing that you might avoid marrying him out of fear. But it was obvious to me that you both loved each other."
"You think he loved me?" she asked in a small voice, afraid to hope.
"I'm sure of it," he said solemnly, and then added, "No man would put up with your nonsense if he didn't love you."
Suzette frowned slightly at the backhanded compliment.
"But whether he did or not, Woodrow is too honorable to have his way with you and then take a runner," her father continued grimly. "Besides, he didn't seem to me to be a coward who would give such news in a cold letter. There is something wrong here. I think we should return to the inn and wait to hear about Daniel."
Suzette hesitated. Her heart was already broken, the worst that could come of their returning was more humiliation and while just moments ago she would have done almost anything to avoid that, her father's words had given her hope. If there was even the slightest possibility that Daniel hadn't written that letter . . . Surely it was a possibility? She'd never seen his handwriting before, and someone could have seen them in the stables and perhaps known about that.
Swallowing, she gave a small nod.
"That's my brave girl." Her father patted her hand and started to turn to Danvers. "Stop the--"
Suzette had been staring at her hands, but when his words died abruptly and Lord Madison suddenly slumped against her, she glanced to him with alarm.
"Father?" Suzette caught him as he started to slide toward the floor of the carriage and then glanced to Danvers to see that he was holding her father's cane by the bottom so that the iron handle could be used as a club, which he had obviously used on her father. At her glance, Jeremy smiled coldly and shrugged, allowing it to slip through his fingers until he was grasping the handle. He set it on the bench seat beside him now and drew a pistol.
"We will not be stopping," he said solemnly. "And you are marrying me."
"Not bloody likely," Suzette snapped at once, easing her father to rest in the corner of the carriage seat so that he slumped against the wall.
"You should have said something like, 'Over my dead body,' " Jeremy said idly. "Then I could have replied, 'No, over his dead body.' Because I will kill your father if you don't."
Suzette stared at him, wondering where all that gentle charm had come from and where it had gone. It was like facing an entirely different man. Was it so easy to pull the wool over her eyes? Apparently so, she thought unhappily and opened her mouth; but before she could speak, Jeremy forestalled her by saying, "Please don't say anything as droll as, "You can't do this." He grimaced and pointed out, "I already have. Now use his cravat and tie him up," he ordered coldly. "Tightly, mind. I should hate for him to get loose and get himself shot before the wedding."
Daniel raised his eyebrows in question as Richard hurried back across the inn yard toward the carriage. Rather than waste the time involved in everyone getting out at each stop, one person did it. Richard and Robert had been taking turns at it to save Daniel from aggravating his injury.
"No sign of them?" he asked as Richard neared.
Radnor shook his head, his expression grim, and Daniel glanced to the carriage stopped behind their own in time to see his mother withdraw her head from the open door and close it. She had heard Richard's answer too and was now no doubt telling Lisa and Christiana the news.
After the first hour, their party had been stopping at each inn so that they could check to see if Danvers's carriage had perhaps been there and might be still. They had expected him to stop for meals or to allow everyone to stretch their legs and relieve themselves. Even if he had decided to drive straight through, the man would have to stop eventually, if only to change horses. However, it appeared he hadn't stopped so far.
"I begin to suspect he isn't going to stop at all and we are wasting time stopping at each inn we pass," Daniel admitted grimly as Richard climbed into the carriage.
"Hmm," Robert muttered with disgust. "If he shot you and wrote the letter Suzette received, then he'll no doubt be eager to get her to Gretna Green and get the deed done before anything can interfere."
Daniel sank back on the bench seat to peer at Robert and Richard across from him, then said, "Maybe we should stop checking each inn. We are wasting a lot of time, and even if they do stop and we pass them, it can only be to our benefit to arrive at Gretna before them. We could lie in wait then."
He waited for both men to nod their agreement before giving these instructions to his driver.
Suzette breathed out a little sigh of relief as she saw her father's eyes flutter. He had been unconscious for so long, she had begun to fret that Danvers had hit him so hard he might never wake again. But he was coming around . . . and now she could carry out the plan she'd come up with while waiting for him to regain consciousness.
Danvers had put his gun away the moment she'd finished tying up her father. Suzette supposed he didn't feel threatened by her enough to bother keeping it out. Whatever the case, he was twiddling his thumbs again and staring out the window into the darkness blanketing the countryside.
"We shall have to st
op at the next inn," she announced coldly. "I need to use the facilities."
Danvers glanced at her with disinterest, and then turned back to the window. "No."
"I need to relieve myself," she insisted pointedly.
Jeremy merely shrugged. "Then you had best get used to a damp dress, because we are not stopping."
Suzette narrowed her eyes grimly. She had half expected this answer and come up with a contingency plan should it happen. She carried it through now and got up from her seat.
"What are you doing?" Danvers barked, glancing around with surprise when the rustle of material warned him she was moving. She was standing up when he looked and moving toward him by the time he tugged his pistol out. Suzette ignored it and turned her back to him, not terribly concerned that he would shoot her. She was the golden goose, after all. She was relatively safe--at least she was until they were wed--so dropped to sit on his lap.
"What the devil?" Jeremy gasped, sounding alarmed now and trying to remove her by pushing on her back. "Get off me and sit in your seat."
Suzette braced her hands on the carriage walls to prevent his shifting her. "If I am going to be damp and uncomfortable because you are a rude bounder, then so shall you be," she said calmly, and then added, "Bear with me, my lord, this should only take a minute."
She could hear the gasping sound of his sucking in one horrified breath, and then he choked out, "You can not mean to--"
"Yes, actually," she assured him calmly. "That is, of course, unless you'd care to stop so I might tend my needs in an alternate fashion . . . one that leaves us both dry."
Suzette caught her father's open alarmed eyes and winked. She then closed her eyes. Lord Madison got the message at once and closed his eyes again, feigning unconsciousness. The moment he did, she added, "Please make your decision quickly, my lord. I fear I cannot hold it much longer."
"All right, dammit!" Giving up on trying to remove her, he banged on the carriage wall, yelling, "Stop the carriage, Thompson. Stop at once, I say."
The moment the carriage began to slow, Danvers said, "There, we are stopping. Now get off me, woman."
"With pleasure," Suzette said dryly and moved to settle herself demurely back in her seat. A glance Danvers's way showed him peering at her as if she were a madwoman or some unclean creature. She smiled sweetly in response. "I cannot wait until we are wed."
When Danvers's eyes dilated with a sort of horror, she chuckled softly, which brought a scowl to his face.
"Get out," he snapped, waving the pistol toward the door the moment the carriage stopped.
Suzette got out, and glanced back to see him eyeing her father grimly. Apparently deciding it was safe enough to leave the seemingly unconscious man, he muttered under his breath and followed her out, and then scowled when he saw her waiting for him. "Well, what are you waiting for? Get to it."
"Here in the middle of nowhere?" she asked with feigned surprise.
"Yes," he said firmly. "Get to it or we shall continue and you can wet yourself, alone. I shall ride on the top . . . where I can shoot your father if the two of you should try to jump out," he added dryly when she considered his words.
Grimacing, Suzette sighed and turned toward the trees, muttering, "Very well."
"Where are you going?" Jeremy asked
"Where do you think?" she asked sarcastically, continuing forward. "I am hardly going to tend matters here in front of you and your driver."
Much to Suzette's relief, he released a frustrated growl, but otherwise didn't protest. Not that it would have prevented her carrying her plan forward, but he could have made things difficult. She continued to walk for several feet until she found a nice wide stretch of bush for coverage. Suzettte considered it briefly and then glanced around to survey the area before hunkering down. Once assured she was out of sight, she called, "Sing or something."
"What?" Jeremy asked with amazement.
"Sing or recite a poem or something," Suzette ordered. "I cannot go if I know you are listening."
"Oh, for the love of--"
"It shall speed things along," she promised him.
Suzette heard him mutter a string of oaths and then Jeremy shouted, "You sing or speak then."
"I will not be able to concentrate on what I am doing if I am trying to sing or recite. Besides, I might grunt in the middle of it, and that would be as embarrassing as--"
"Oh, very well," Jeremy snapped, interrupting her. Apparently, he didn't have the stomach to want to hear exactly what she was claiming to be doing. In the next moment, Danvers began to recite the Lord's prayer, which was rather sacrilegious to her mind considering that she suspected he'd burst into flames if he dared enter a church, but she wasn't going to complain. Staying hunkered down, she moved to the side under the cover of the bushes until she reached a line of trees, then she raised to a half crouch and moved more quickly, weaving her way toward the lane, using the trees and bushes as cover. She continued forward until she was almost at the edge of the trees behind the carriage. Suzette then paused and glanced back, waiting for him to grow tired of reciting. She didn't have long to wait.
"Are you not done yet?" Jeremy bellowed impatiently after the third recitation.
She remained silent.
"Suzette?" he called, suspicion entering his voice. When silence was his answer, he cursed in a most impious way and started trudging forward into the woods. "Dammit! Where are you?"
She watched silently as he stomped up to where she had been and began to search the area, not surprised when he turned back toward the carriage and bellowed, "Thompson! Get over here and help me find the little bitch."
A slow smile spread Suzette's lips, the first she'd enjoyed since receiving the letter she'd thought was from Daniel. Jeremy was doing exactly as she'd expected. She watched the driver climb down from the carriage and tramp through the high grass until he reached the trees and then she caught up her skirts and sidled closer to the edge of the trees offering her cover. The moment the man had joined his employer, Suzette slid out of the woods, hurried around the carriage and climbed quickly up onto the driver's perch from the far side of the vehicle. She hadn't even settled on the seat before she had the reins in hand, then Suzette grabbed up the driver's whip and cracked it over the horses' heads.
The horses burst forward at once, nearly sending her flying backward off her perch. She managed to keep her seat, and slapped the reins now. The horses immediately began to pick up more speed. Suzette glanced around then, not surprised to see Jeremy and his driver running toward the road. Knowing they would never catch up, she wasn't concerned . . . until Jeremy suddenly stopped and aimed his pistol. She immediately ducked down, trying to make herself as small a target as she could.
At first, when Suzette heard the weapon's report and felt nothing, she thought Jeremy had missed, but then she saw the horse on the side closest to Jeremy stumble and slam into the horse on the left as he fell. In the next moment, both horses were going down and pulling the carriage to the side with them. Suzette didn't have time to think, she simply pushed herself up from the seat as the vehicle started to turn and threw herself away from it. She hit the ground with a bone-jarring crash and then, afraid she hadn't thrown herself far enough and the carriage would crash down on top of her, she instinctively rolled several times before stopping.
Suzette raised her head then to glance around. She couldn't see Jeremy and his driver, but the carriage had come to rest on its side several feet away. Ignoring the aches and pains assaulting her, she pushed herself to her feet and staggered back to the carriage, her only concern for her father. Still tied up, he would have been helpless to protect himself as the vehicle had rolled. Worry eating at her, she reached the carriage and--using the spare fifth wheel, coachman's step and seat irons--managed to climb up onto the upturned side of the carriage. Once there she could see Jeremy and his driver rushing toward her, but ignored them and crawled to the carriage door to pull it up and open.
It was nearly dark now
, but was darker still in the carriage, and at first she couldn't make out much; but then Suzette began to be able to distinguish her father's form crumpled against the door on the ground. Her breath caught in her throat as she noted how still he was, and for one moment, she feared he was dead.
"Father?" she breathed, not wanting to believe she'd killed him with her escape attempt. Much to her relief his dark shape shifted as if he were trying to turn and look at her and Suzette breathed a heartfelt, "Thank God."
In the next moment she was grabbed from behind and dragged away from the opening. Danvers spoke, his breath brushing her cheek as he snapped, "Get the old man out of there, Thompson."
Suzette glanced back to see the driver moving to kneel at the opening and survey the situation inside the cab of the carriage, and then Danvers was throwing her off the side of the overturned carriage . . . literally. He tossed her to the ground like she was a sack of waste. It wasn't a far fall, perhaps six to eight feet, but even so it was painful. Suzette knew she no doubt had more new bruises on her body, which was already carrying several from her first hard landing. She was slower to rise this time and had to bite her tongue to keep from groaning as she became aware of her body's complaints over its recent rough handling. It seemed to her it was worse now than the first time she'd got up, but supposed her worry for her father had raised her blood enough to keep her from noticing then.
"Get up," Jeremy ordered grimly, but then grabbed her arm to jerk her up without waiting to see if she'd obey. He then gave her a shake with his grip on her arm and roared, "I ought to kill you right now."
"My lord?"
Jeremy glared at her for another moment, and then turned to raise an eyebrow at his servant. "What?"
"He's tied up," the man said uncertainly with a nod toward the open carriage door.
Jeremy's jaw tightened and he asked sharply, "Is that a problem?"
The man considered the question, and then tilted his head and said cagily, "Not if you were planning to give me a bonus or something . . . a permanent raise, say."
Jeremy's eyes narrowed grimly. "Very well. Now, get him out."
The driver nodded and then lowered himself down through the open carriage door.