Blackthorne's Bride

by Shana Galen

  Of one mind, Jack and Nick arrowed for the girls. Jack grabbed Maddie and pushed her into action. Nick did the same for Ashley. Behind him, he heard shouts of "After them, fools!" Jack spared a glance for Dover, who was huddled in a ball on the ground, then pushed Maddie in front of him and steered her toward the trees.

  They'd barely cleared the road when the first shot exploded behind them. It was wild and hit a tree far to their left, but Jack pushed Maddie down to protect her from the next shot.

  "Goddamn it!" Nick swore, crouching beside Ashley, who had jumped behind a tree. "How the hell did he find us?"

  "I don't know," Jack panted. "But we've got to go back."

  "Back?" Ashley screamed.

  "Not you," Jack told her, but he was looking at Maddie. "You two keep running. Nick and I will go back and distract him while you two escape."

  "But we can't leave you," Maddie protested. She was on her knees now, and Jack wished he could push her back on the ground, cover her with his body, and keep her safe for the rest of her life. Instead, he'd have to do the next best thing.

  "Don't argue," he ordered as another shot, this one hitting closer, rang out. "Run and hide. We'll find you."

  "But—"

  He silenced her with a quick kiss—a press of his mouth on hers—then pushed her forward. "Go!"

  With steely determination, he turned again to the road and Bleven.

  As soon as Jack heard the girls' footfalls receding, he called, "Okay, Bleven, you have us! Stop shooting and we'll surrender."

  "No more tricks," Bleven called back. "One wrong move and I kill you where you stand."

  "Agreed!" Jack called. He looked at Nick, grim-faced and white. "First chance you get, escape and find them."

  "I'm not leaving you with Bleven."

  Jack grabbed Nick about the throat and pushed him hard against a tree. "Goddamn it, don't argue with me. This isn't going to be like what happened with—" He stopped, swallowed hard. "First chance you get, you go find the girls. Got it?"

  Nick nodded, and Jack released him.

  "Let's go." The two put their hands up and marched out.

  One of Bleven's men was questioning Dover near the duke's carriage, but the others immediately descended. Jack and Nick were pulled apart, and Jack's arms were bound. As soon as he was defenseless, the thugs got their revenge.

  Jack didn't blame them. He'd humiliated Bleven and his men today, forced them to leave London to chase him all the way to—wherever the hell they were—and then humiliated them again.

  The men weren't in a good mood.

  It took about seven kicks and punches before Jack went to his knees. He looked over and noted Nick was already on the ground, curled into a protective ball. Smart man, he thought, but something about his own pride—or was it stupidity?—wouldn't allow him to go down.

  His head felt as though it had split in two. He wanted to reach up and piece it back together again, but the men held his arms so tightly that there was no feeling in them anymore. He knew they would hurt like hell once the numbness receded.

  He bent to try and cushion the next blow to his ribs, and his stomach blazed up with fire. It hurt to breathe, to move, to exist. He looked up, tasting blood in his mouth, and saw Bleven sauntering over to him.

  Finally, thank God, the thugs stood back.

  "So you thought you could outsmart me," Bleven seethed. He was out of breath, and Jack realized he must have taken a few swings at Nick. "You thought you could humiliate me and get away with it."

  Jack shrugged, ignoring the pain the movement caused. "You showed us. If you're done proving what a big man you are, Nick and I have other more pressing matters to attend to."

  "You arrogant whoreson," Bleven spat, his boot landing in Jack's stomach, just to make the point. "I never liked you."

  Jack doubled over. His intestines felt as though they had been kicked out through his back and shoved in again, but he managed to stay on his knees. "The feeling's mutual," he wheezed.

  "Shut up!" This time Bleven caught him on the right cheek, and Jack's head snapped back. The pain was like a knife thrust in his flesh, but he forced himself to stay upright.

  When his balance returned, he looked up at Bleven and smiled. "Having fun?"

  Bleven moved to kick him again, then seemed to think better of it. One of his thugs grabbed Jack's arms and pinned them behind his back. Bleven leaned close, so close that Jack could smell the brandy on his breath.

  "Oh, I'm going to have fun. I've been waiting a long time for this." His face swam in Jack's vision, his leering smile huge and distorted. "I'm going to take you boys back to London with me, and we're going to have lots of fun. As much fun as we had all those years ago in that dark alley."

  Jack tensed and shook his head. Had he heard Bleven correctly?

  "Do you remember that, Jack? Do you remember how you cried and hid your face? Oh, yes. I stood in the shadows behind you, and I saw it all."

  Jack strained against the man holding him, almost breaking free. "You bloody bastard. Come here where I can reach you. Fight me like a man."

  Bleven only smiled thinly, then turned to one of his thugs. "Shut him up."

  The thug pulled his fist back, then all went black.

  * * * * *

  Maddie grabbed Ashley's arm and pulled her behind a large tree. The two girls leaned against it, huffing and panting.

  "We ... should ... keep ... going," Ashley wheezed.

  "We ... can't," Maddie responded. She bent over, took a deep breath, and looked at her friend. "We can't leave them."

  Ashley frowned at her. "Yes, we can. Whatever was going on back there had—" She took a second to catch her breath. "—nothing to do with us. That was the Duke of Bleven."

  Maddie stared at her. "Are you sure?"

  "Positive."

  Maddie knew it was true. She'd seen Bleven many times, enough to recognize him even on a dark road. But she hadn't wanted to admit it had been him just now. She'd heard stories about the Black Duke. Horrible, twisted stories. Stories that she knew couldn't be true, and yet she suspected they were.

  What could the Martingale boys have done to anger Bleven? How could they be such complete fools?

  And why was she surprised? "It doesn't matter, Ashley, we still have to go back."

  "Why?" Ashley said. She was staring at Maddie like Maddie often stared at her. Like she was completely insane. "You heard Blackthorne. He said we should run."

  "We can't leave them there," Maddie protested. "We have to return and help."

  Ashley grabbed her hands. "Listen to me, Maddie, we cannot help. Not this time. I know you want to save everyone, but you're taking it too far."

  Maddie yanked her hands out of Ashley's grasp. "You and all your talk of adventure. You act like you're so brave, but in the end you're no better than a coward!"

  "And you're a fool! You want to rush back there and get yourself killed. Or worse."

  Ashley was right, and yet she knew she couldn't do anything else. She was no hero. She was terrified. But she was even more terrified not to go back and help.

  Her lips still tingled where Blackthorne had kissed her. He'd kissed her and sent her to safety, while he returned to the gates of Hades. What kind of man did that?

  Maddie was afraid she knew. She was afraid she had sorely misjudged Blackthorne. But even if he was nothing more than a selfish scoundrel who probably deserved Bleven's wrath, she couldn't leave him to Bleven's non-existent mercy.

  She couldn't leave him at all. Not while there was still the chance that he would touch her, hold her, kiss her.

  She glanced at Ashley, feeling guilty.

  "Maddie, come on. Please," Ashley urged, tugging at her.

  "No." Maddie stepped away from her. "Keep running. Go save yourself."

  Ashley stared at her. "What are you going to do?"

  "I'm going back."

  * * * * *

  Jack woke up when the horse he was tied to farted. It was just loud enough
and smelly enough to rouse him from unconsciousness. But he didn't move, didn't show any sign of being awake and alert. Instead he stayed slumped over the horse's mane and listened.

  The horse was stationary, which made it easy for Jack to identify the sounds and deduce that he was behind Bleven's carriage and surrounded by Bleven's men, who were preparing to depart.

  Ahead of him, Mr. Dover whimpered and tsked and generally made feeble pleas to be set free. Jack heard a slap, and then Dover was quiet.

  But he heard nothing from his brother. He eased his eyes open and tried to focus. His head was spinning, and he immediately wanted to vomit. Instead, he clenched his fists, which were bound behind his back, and waited for the nausea to pass. The spinning slowed, wobbled, teetered, and finally ceased. His vision cleared and he realized he was staring at the ground.

  Darting his eyes to the right, he spotted another horse's hooves. He allowed his gaze to travel higher—aware that at any moment he might be noticed and knocked out again—and he saw a boot. Nick's boot. His brother had been dropped over the horse beside him. Nick appeared unconscious, unless he too was playacting.

  Jack stared at him, but Nick didn't stir. His breathing was deep and irregular, and he was slumped over his horse with his hands bound.

  Damn it. Jack wanted to kick his brother, wake him, tell him to get moving. Maddie was probably cold and scared in that wood.

  Unless ...

  Jack's heart skipped. Unless Bleven had gone after her and found her.

  No.

  Jack forced his racing heart to slow. She was safe. He had to believe that. He listened to the quiet conversation and movement around him. Nothing indicated that Bleven had found Maddie.

  And if Bleven had, fat lot of good he would be anyway. He was tied to a horse, weak as a puppy, and on the verge of passing out again. What could he do to help? He couldn't protect her.

  Jack shook his head. He was a man now. And that was a long time ago. That was a different lifetime.

  Or was it? How had Bleven known what had happened all those years ago in that dirty alley? Had he been there? Been part of it?

  Rage made Jack's breath come quick. He would get to the bottom of this. And if Bleven had any part, he would personally rip the man into a dozen pieces.

  He forced his breathing to slow and tried to concentrate on the present.

  "Hey, I think this one's waking up," one of the men near him called out.

  "Doesn't matter," another man replied. "We're 'eading out."

  There was a chorus of yahs and hups, and the wheels of the ducal carriage creaked into motion. Slowly, the rest of the party followed. The horse's movements jarred Jack's sore and bruised body, and he hoped Nick felt the same pain.

  Anything to wake his brother.

  Jack took another peek at Nick, trying to gauge if his brother was close enough to kick, but a flurry of movement above him caught his eye instead.

  Something white had moved in the treetop.

  Jack closed his eyes. He was seeing things. Or perhaps it was an owl.

  An owl with blond hair?

  He bolted upright, a warning cry on his lips, but it was too late. He turned in time to see Ashley drop from the tree and onto the back of the unsuspecting thug riding the last horse in line. Ashley and the man went down with a thud, then Maddie ran out from the undergrowth and conked the thug on the head.

  Jack stared in horror. He waited for the horse to scream and bolt. He waited for the thug to grab Maddie and snap her small body in two. He waited for pandemonium to erupt and the girls to be caught.

  There was no way that the girls' plan would work.

  But none of that happened. The thug stayed down, Ashley grabbed the skittish horse's bridle and calmed him, and Maddie began dragging the unconscious man into the undergrowth.

  "Hey!" The man behind Jack was now waving a pistol at him. "Get yourn 'ead down. There ain't nothing to see back there."

  Jack didn't argue. He ducked his head back down on the horse's mane and closed his eyes. He didn't know how long it had been since he'd last prayed. Years. Too many to count. But he began to pray anyway.

  "Just knock her out, God," he mumbled. "Trip her, get her lost. Whatever. Just keep her away for a little while longer."

  But, as usual, God didn't listen.

  With a whoop and a cry, the rider on the newly commandeered horse galloped at full speed past the duke's entourage. Maddie was on the horse's back, her chestnut hair and lavender ribbons whipping out behind her.

  He was going to murder her for risking herself like this.

  "What the—" the man behind Jack began, but a shot rang out, drowning his words.

  Jack's horse reared and he struggled to control him. Unable to use his arms, he clamped his legs tight and made soothing sounds. When he looked again, Maddie was in the middle of the road, her pistol pointed at Bleven's carriage.

  The entire train had slowed to a stop, and the horses were dancing from side to side, their nerves frayed from yet another commotion.

  "What the 'ell do ye think yourn doing?" the coachman called to Maddie as Bleven threw open the carriage door and stomped out.

  "What the devil is the meaning of this?"

  Maddie leveled her gun at Bleven, and though Jack knew this was her best and only strategy, he winced as a half dozen other pistols were immediately trained on her.

  "Maddie," he muttered. Why the hell couldn't she have run, like he'd told her to? If one of the men shot her, he would kill them all.

  "Ah, Your Grace," Maddie said with a sweet smile for the duke. "Just the man I wanted to see."

  Bleven put his hands on his hips. "Is that so? Have we met, miss? You look familiar."

  "Lady Madeleine, daughter of the Earl of Castleigh, Your Grace. And before you ask why I'm here, let me just say that if you don't ask questions, I won't."

  The duke, clearly not bothered by a petite girl with a pistol, shrugged. "Very well. Why have you stopped us? Playing at highway robber?"

  "Actually, I've come because you have something of mine, or rather, someone of mine."

  Her eyes met Jack's and then slid away. Jack followed their path, saw her gaze drift to Nick, who was now sitting and looking somewhat woozy, then to Dover.

  Jack scowled. Of course. She'd come for Dover.

  Maddie pointed to the professor, who was staring at her anxiously. "My fiance."

  All eyes turned to Mr. Dover, and the professor smiled weakly.

  The duke laughed. "That one is your fiance? More trouble than he's worth. Take him and be on your way."

  Maddie nodded. "Ride into the woods, Mr. Dover," she ordered, but she did not lower her pistol. And Jack continued to hold his breath.

  The men were silent as Dover disappeared, and then the duke said, "Is that all, Lady Madeleine?"

  "One more request, Your Grace." She prodded her horse forward, closer to him. "A private request."

  He looked up at her, and she leaned down to whisper in his ear. When she had his full attention, she glanced up and screamed, "Now, Ashley!"

  Everyone looked around, uncertain what would come next, and then they heard a voice behind them: "Over here, boys!"

  Everyone turned, and Jack's mouth dropped open. Ashley Brittany was naked and waving from the side of the road. "Come and get me!"

  Bleven's men didn't need much encouragement. Three started for her before she even darted back into the trees. The others were hot on their heels, even as Bleven yelled, "No! Stop!"

  But it was too late. Jack's eyes met Nick's, and the two men nodded in silent understanding. Nick spurred his horse into the woods, after Ashley, and Jack rode for Bleven.

  The duke was facing Maddie again. She was pale, her eyes wide. She glanced up at Jack and cried, "Watch out! He has a pis—"

  Bleven swung round, and Jack ducked. The heat of the bullet caressed his ear, and he felt the warm blood slide down his cheek. Ignoring it, he plowed his horse into Bleven. The duke jumped out of the way but
went down, rolling into a ball.

  Maddie didn't need any direction from him. She kicked her horse into motion, riding ahead. He spurred his own horse faster, caught up to her, and nodded toward the woods opposite those Nick and Ashley had disappeared into.

  They had just cleared the treeline and disappeared behind thicker foliage when Maddie slowed her horse and turned the animal.

  "What the hell are you doing now?" Jack demanded.

  "Going back for Ashley," Maddie answered. "I can't leave her."

  "She's fine. Nick went after her."

  "But—"

  "Jesus, woman. For once, save yourself. Nick's got Ashley Let's get the hell out of here."

  But Maddie was no longer staring behind her. She was looking at him. "Jack, you're hurt!"

  "It's a scratch. Nothing to worry about."

  But the words were barely out when his head began to ring and that spinning feeling returned. Jack frowned. It had been just a scratch. Hadn't it?

  He tried to reach out, to clutch the horse's saddle and hang on, but he'd forgotten his hands were tied.

  "Oh, damn," he swore as he slid off his horse and hit the ground.

  Chapter Nine

  "Oh Jiminy!" Maddie cried, and dropped off her own horse to kneel beside Blackthorne. He was bound, and thus his body lay at an awkward angle.

  She shook him, and when he didn't wake, she leaned close to listen for his breathing. Thank God. Then she got a better look at the blood covering Blackthorne's face and neck and wondered if she'd been premature in her gratitude.

  Quickly, she reached under her skirts, tore off a good portion of her petticoat, and began wiping away the blood. She had to tear off another section before she could see the wound—a small nick at the top of his right ear.

  She felt his head and neck and, other than a half-dozen bumps and knots, found no additional injuries. Lord, but that little nick bled enough for a full-fledged head wound.

  He looked uncomfortable with his hands bound behind him, and she fumbled with the knots in the darkness. It took her three or four tries, but then the rope fell away and he lay flat on his back.