Taffeta & Hotspur

by Claudy Conn

  Taffeta sighed more heavily, “Yes, I admit nothing seems as much fun when he isn’t about.” Taffy eyed her knowingly. “You were bored as well, and I noticed Fenmore wasn’t present either,” she said meaningfully.

  “I knew he wouldn’t be. He is off with your Tarrant,” answered Catherine with a soft smile.

  “Is he? I didn’t know,” said Taffeta with a frown. “I wonder what they can be up to? Something deliciously exciting I am sure, and what must we endure but…” She turned to look for her brother and uncle and noticed a young and dirty urchin of a boy had gained their attention. “How odd… I wonder what is toward?”

  Even while she was still looking their way out the curbside window, the coach suddenly lurched forward. Her heart skipped a beat, and she froze for the fraction of a moment as her reasoning took the situation and put it into cohesive order. This was wrong … all too wrong.

  Taffy took immediate action and knocked on the inside box to the driver’s back wall. “Thomas, what are you doing? Stop this instant and wait for my brother and uncle.”

  No answer. She went forward and pulled open the box to the driver’s seat and saw some of the man’s back. He was not dressed in his usual uniform but wore a dirty set of clothes, and his long straggly hair, under a peaked cap, told her at once—this was not their coachman. Not Thomas. What had happened to the man? Oh, she immediately hoped he had not been badly hurt. She knew they were in trouble. This was her vision already live.

  She sat back and said to Catherine, “Right then—here we are alone with a villain at the horse’s head. Cathy, when the carriage slows, as it will in the traffic up ahead, will you take my hand and jump out?”

  “Yes, of course, but … what is this…?”

  “There is no time to explain, but we have to get away before the driver turns down an alley or quiet street, where no doubt another coach is waiting…”

  “Will he stop in traffic? Can we get out then and run?” Cathy asked, looking determined.

  “He won’t stop the coach unless he must, I am certain, and we have the advantage because he doesn’t know we know what is afoot. He is already slowing … just a bit more, so we don’t lose our balance when we jump out.” She squeezed her friend’s hand, “You can do this, Cath. I know you can. Remember a few years back when those Eton boys took us for a wagon ride and things got a bit out of hand? Remember?”

  “Yes, we were glorious, weren’t we? You knocked one boy off the wagon, and the other two were so busy holding up their team while we jumped off and vanished into the woods. Yes, that was glorious, and we laughed all the way back to school—stupid boys.”

  “This is different. They were only playing a prank. This time, we are being abducted. We have no choice but to take it seriously and do what we must. Do you trust me?”

  “Of course I do.”

  “Then hold my hand and get ready,” said Taffeta, looking out the window and discovering a maze of traffic ahead. “He is already slowing … but I don’t think he will stop … are you ready?”

  “Ready?”

  “I shall open the door, and we must hike up our skirts and take to ground.”

  “Go ahead, I am with you.”

  Taffy hiked up her skirts and jumped. She nearly lost her balance, steadied herself and turned to find Catherine stumbling from her jump and nearly colliding with her.

  “There … now … off we go.” Taffy said.

  “Not so fast, tart, not so fast.” said a hard, familiar voice.

  Taffy realized Bruton must have been riding behind the coach. He was already off his horse and grabbed at Taffeta. He had her by the arm.

  His mistake, for she brought up her foot and gave him a resounding kick to his privates. He howled and bent over in pain, and she took Cathy’s hand and screamed, “Come on, Cath.”

  However, Bruton seemed to recover as he took chase. Taffy heard him but kept up her pace, weaving through traffic. He was on her suddenly, this time taking hold of her hair and yanking hard, so hard she cried out, “Oww!” She then realized they needed help. She screamed out to her friend. “Run Cathy and get help. Tell them…”

  Bruton hissed into her ear. “It won’t do you any good. By the time they find us, you will be my wife, and will have spent the night with me.”

  Taffeta brought her heel down on his toes, and he screeched with anger and pain as she broke free and ran.

  Once again, she tried dodging him by using the traffic of carriages and hacks to hide her as she darted in and out of traffic. She took a moment and pounded the door of one of the carriages, but then couldn’t wait for admittance.

  Even as she cried out for help, Bruton was on her. She ran as fast as her heart and legs could take her, and as she thought she was getting away, the heel of her satin shoe broke, and she tripped on the curbing going down to her knees.

  Her gown torn in several places, her slipper broken, and still she picked herself up and started off, only to be cornered by him at the opening of a dark long alley.

  Bruton closed in on her and took her arm to drag her off screaming and kicking into the darkest part of the alley where he hauled off and slapped her.

  “Now bitch, now…” he said, and she saw he was about to knock her unconscious.

  ~*~

  Seth and Nigel tried to understand what the small lad was trying to tell them, but found it difficult to follow his message.

  “Look here, lad. Who told you to give us this message? How did they know we would be here this evening?” Nigel asked.

  “Oi don’t know ‘is name, oi don’t…” said the lad, shaking his small dirty hands nervously. “’ee gave me a coin and told me jest to tell the Duke of Grantham and Lord Nigel to meet ‘im at the Home Office … that’s all oi knows.”

  Seth took out a few coins and handed them to the grubby street urchin. “There … go get something to eat.” He watched the boy rush off and turned to frown at Nigel. “What the devil is all … hold on…” He moved toward their coach just as it pulled away from the curbing.

  “What the devil? I say, hold up Thomas!” called out Nigel.

  “Wait a moment. That isn’t Thomas… Who the devil?”

  “Taffy!” they both said in unison. Seth slapped his uncle’s shoulder. “Come on.” And led the chase of the coach at a run.

  However, as the coach made its way down the avenue, and had not yet hit traffic, it gained quite a distance on them, and Seth stopped to catch his breath. They both bent over their knees as Seth sucked in air and grinned to see Nigel doing the same.

  “What the deuce is going on here?” Nigel asked.

  “We were diverted. Don’t you see? ’Tis Taffy’s vision. She is alone in the carriage with Catherine. They are being abducted!”

  “But why?”

  “Doesn’t matter why … come on,” said Seth, starting off again. However, a hackney came to a stop near them, and the driver nodded at them to ask, “Need a ride, do ye gents?”

  Nigel looked at Seth who then climbed up and took the reins from the driver, and Nigel gave him a gold coin. “Don’t worry there, my good man, the duke is an excellent whip, and you’ll be well paid when we are done.”

  The driver was pleased enough with the guinea he already found in his palm and nodded, “Right then, off we go.”

  ~*~

  Tarrant and Fenmore had alighted their coach just in time to see Nigel and Seth’s behavior with the hack.

  “What the deuce are those two doing now?” said James Fenmore with a shake of his head.

  Tarrant felt something cold clutch his heart, and he whispered, “Taffy.”

  “You have no reason to think it has something to do with—”

  “Oh but I do, come on,” said Tarrant, motioning for Fenmore’s driver to move over as he climbed up onto the driver’s bench and extended a hand to Fenmore.

  “Do you know, I don’t think I have ever been up here,” said Fenmore as he sat beside Tarrant. “It is damn good fun.”

  �
��Hold on James, my man … I mean to make these horses of yours move!”

  “There!” He pointed. “I see them … there…”

  “Don’t see them…” replied Tarrant, frowning.

  “Just ahead.” Fenmore shook his head. “Whatever made them take the hack? It doesn’t make any sense.”

  “It does to me,” said Tarrant.

  “Turning—there!” Fenmore’s voice was full of excitement.

  “Aye,” said the Hotspur, feeling like the devil on the hunt. “Aye…”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Taffy’s hand went to her stinging cheek as she backed up against the building. It was dark, and she tripped over something, went down on her hands and knees, and when she stood back up, leaned with her hands behind her back against the limestone wall of the building.

  She was in a rage, but she needed to stall for time. They weren’t so deep into the alley that a passerby wouldn’t hear if she screamed. She needed to bide her time and make one last attempt to either escape or call for help. “You know,” she said slowly, loudly, “if Tarrant doesn’t kill you for this night’s work, I shall. You will never be safe again.”

  “No? But I will be rich,” he sneered at her.

  “Do you think so? You will need to be alive in order to enjoy it, Bruton. So if I were you, I would think about what I was doing. In the end, it won’t be worth it. I can promise you that.”

  “Shut up, tart. Just shut up. What do you know about the trials of poverty? I have nothing left. What little my father didn’t gamble away, I have spent in maintaining our lands. I’ll have your money, and that is all I am thinking about. That is all I care about.” He shrugged. “It won’t be so bad for you. I shall not be a difficult husband. In fact, I shall allow you to come and go as you please after our nuptials.”

  “Husband? I loathe you and shall never call you husband. Fool—you are a fool. You have not seen past your own immediate needs. You have not seen what the consequences will be. You will never call me wife because you will be dead. I will happily, easily, slit your throat while you sleep if I have to, but I rather think Tarrant will obliterate you from the face of the earth long before that … don’t you?”

  Bruton frowned, but she taunted, “Didn’t expect I would escape your coach and ruin your plans?”

  “You haven’t ruined a thing.”

  “Catherine will tell, and they will know…”

  “It will be too late. You will be my wife. I will own your fortune.”

  “Tarrant will make me a widow,” she snapped angrily.

  He frowned again and sounding infuriated, he answered, “What good will it do him? He will end in prison.”

  Taffy had positioned herself as subtly as she could and now used the moment. She swung the board of wood she had been holding at her back all this while, and she swung it with all her might.

  She didn’t give him time to duck, and it hit him square.

  She charged away from the alley, left it at her back, and was on the main thoroughfare a few moments later, and yelled with all her heart, “Help!”

  ~*~

  They were slowed almost to a stop in traffic, and Tarrant saw her before he heard her. He threw the reins of the horses to Fenmore, nimbly jumped down from the carriage, and began to run.

  Had his heart ever beat with such frenzy? Had he ever felt so slow? She was disheveled, her gown torn, and she was running as though for her life. Bruton, damn his soul, was at her back.

  He reached her and held her as she collapsed into his arms, saying, “I knew you would come … just a little while ago … I saw it…” And she began to cry.

  He put her behind him as Bruton stumbled down towards them, and he went forward to land Bruton a leveler, and even as Bruton hit the ground, he picked him up and hit him again.

  He turned and took Taffy into his embrace and saw immediately, even in the dim light of the street lamp, her cheek was bruised. “Taffy … my own sunbeam … did he do this?” He didn’t wait for her answer but turned to pick up Bruton so he could hit him again, but Taffy stayed him.

  “No … oh, Thurston … do just take me home.”

  There was a commotion behind them, for Catherine arrived with a beadle. Seth and Nigel also were there.

  “Tarrant—you’re here? We would have been here sooner … saw Cathy running and screaming like a banshee… Cathy never screams … took off after her on foot,” Seth announced in a breathless voice like a ban.

  Fenmore, now on the scene, took Catherine’s hands to his lips and was cooing to her, as the beadle was addressing Tarrant.

  “Thank you, sir,” said the Hotspur. “We can take it from here.”

  “Would ye be wanting to press charges?”

  Taffy shook her head.

  They didn’t need a scandal, so Hotspur answered softly, “I think not … as I said, we thank you for your quick service, but we will get him to where he belongs.”

  The beadle seemed well pleased for the compliment and the accompanying coin. He tipped his hat and moved off.

  “Taffeta, I need you to go home with Catherine, your brother, and Nigel. Fenmore and I will see to Bruton. Will you do that for me?”

  “What are you going to do? You must not kill him!”

  “Never mind what I am going to do. Please, my love, Catherine too needs you, and you both need to get home to a hot tub and relax. I will call on you first thing in the morning.”

  “Right then … but, Thurston… I…”

  “Steady, my brave beauty.” He touched her under chin and saw her and Catherine installed in the hack the boys had waiting for them.

  “Take the ladies home and not a word of this to anyone,” Tarrant said quietly before turning to Fenmore. Together they picked up the unconscious Bruton and threw him into Fenmore’s coach.

  “What shall we do with him?”

  “Drop him into the Thames,” said Hotspur on a hard note.

  “Aye…” Fenmore regarded his friend. “But, really?”

  “Really,” replied the Hotspur wickedly.

  Epilogue

  One month later

  Taffeta leaned into her husband as their gondola plowed through one of Venice’s deep water canals. Her rakehell had insisted on an early wedding and would wait only long enough for her to have a gown created and a wedding party assembled.

  Their honeymoon had been, from the moment they began, a trip filled with laughter, new experiences, and lovemaking that took her to what she told him were depraved heights.

  She had questioned him a few times over the last few weeks about Bruton, who had vanished from society. A part of her was worried her beloved had indeed killed the man in a fit of rage.

  She looked up at him now and asked softly, “Tarrant love, I need to know, and I need to know the truth, not a fairy tale. What have you done with Bruton? For when I asked Seth and Nigel, they said I must not ask and were convinced you drowned him in the Thames.”

  He laughed, “They must have had that from James.”

  “Did you … drown him? I shall forgive you if you did, for he deserved it, but … oh, I hope there won’t be repercussions.”

  He hugged her fiercely. “If I drowned him as was my first inclination, I would have done so in a manner where there would never be any repercussions to worry you. However, I allowed Fenmore to persuade me to take another route.”

  “Huh, what then?”

  “Bruton was a desperate man. He was about to be served, and if he could not come up with the money he owed, he would have been hauled off to debtor’s prison … perhaps even sent to Australia. I gave him a choice he didn’t deserve.”

  “What choice? What did you do?”

  “We, James and I, helped him pack all his belongings, and we delivered him to a ship that was about to depart for the Colonies. What do they call themselves, ah yes, the United States. I bought him a first class ticket for the passage and gave him a tidy sum to invest when he got there. I rather think he will do well in the colo
nies … and hopefully stay there.”

  “Brilliant! You are absolutely brilliant,” Taffeta said as she bounced in his arms and planted a kiss on his cheek.

  “I am, am I not?” He laughed. “And I want that kiss, but not on my cheek.” He bent his head and brushed his lips against hers. “You drive me mad with need, do you know that? I want you all the time.”

  “The gondolier will hear you.” She giggled and snuggled closer.

  “Let him hear me.” Tarrant sighed, settling back and looking around. “Ah, I think we are nearly there. Are you hungry my sweet?”

  “Yes, yes, I am starving, and I do so adore Italian food.” She eyed him and said naughtily, “It is a shame we couldn’t have drowned him. He did so deserve it.”

  He barked a laugh, “Wicked wife, you suit me, you fit me.”

  Taffeta sighed. “Next month James and Cath will marry. It will be so much fun. Their wedding will be beautiful. I shall be so proud to stand as her maid of honor with you as James’ best man.”

  “Indeed, but I wish we had more time here in Italy. I love it so,” he whispered softly.

  “Yes, I do as well, but Tarrant, we go to your Grange, and that will be very exciting, and it is so very near Grantham that Seth and Nigel will be able to visit often and—”

  He laughed and said, “And who knows what my sunbeam and her rogues will get up to?”

  She smiled sweetly. “Oh, yes, poor Tarrant. You could not have thought it out when you asked for my hand … as I go, those two as well. Three for the price of one.” She giggled.

  “Rogues Three … aye… and my own sweet love, I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  A short blurb from Rogues, Rakes & Jewels

  The Marquis of Lyndhurst wanted a woman who was more attracted to him than his title and money. He went to the Isle of Wight (at his mother’s request), to meet yet another eligible woman, but this time, he was going to play a little game! His cousin Robby would pose as him…And he would pose as his cousin.