by Darcy Burke
Elijah lifted the weapon and leveled it at the approaching horseman. “Keep coming and I’ll shoot you as I did the others,” he called out. “Turn tail and run and I’ll likely let you go.”
The sound of a pistol shot from the vicinity of Miss Bowen’s coach drew Elijah’s attention just long enough for the advancing highwayman to fire. Elijah’s carelessness nearly cost him an ear as the bullet whooshed by his head and lodged in the side of the coach. Refocusing, Elijah shot at the masked highwayman, but he turned his horse and evaded the bullet.
Uttering a vicious curse, Elijah exchanged the pistol with Wade once again, but the highwayman was already riding away. No, not away, but back to Miss Bowen’s coach, where another masked man was clutching his arm. Grey had presumably shot him. Elijah ran toward them with his pistol raised.
Grey stood outside the coach, a pistol—presumably spent—dangling from her hand, while Miss Bowen held her own weapon pointed at the wounded highwayman.
The brigand who’d nearly uneared Elijah reached them first. He pulled a second pistol from his saddlebag and aimed it at Miss Bowen. “Lower yer pistol or I’ll shoot ’er.”
“Not before I shoot you,” Elijah said, his finger itching to pull the trigger. “What do you want?” He was nearly certain they were after the tapestry, which was safely stowed in his coach.
He turned to see a small, slight figure stealing into the vehicle.
Hell.
“Wade, Timmons!” Elijah called out to his valet and coachman, whose attention was fully focused on what was happening outside the ladies’ coach.
Timmons pivoted immediately, but Wade was slower—as if he couldn’t bring himself to turn away from the women, or more accurately Grey. Timmons ran to the coach and leapt inside only to fall back out again clutching his side.
Elijah went into full battle mode. He refocused on the highwayman threatening Miss Bowen and shot him in the vicinity of his collarbone before the man realized what was coming. Without sparing a glance for the women, Elijah quickly spun about and ran toward his coach, where Wade had just reached Timmons.
“See to him,” Elijah barked at his valet as he pulled a small blade from his boot and launched himself into the coach. The flash of a knife greeted him, but he’d expected that and met the villain’s thrust with a swift parry. He caught the man’s sleeve and rent the fabric.
The villain lunged forward, driving Elijah back onto the seat and into a defensive position. The knife slashed into Elijah’s waistcoat, but didn’t reach his flesh as he managed to flatten himself back against the seat. Elijah brought his legs up and kicked the man in the gut, sending him sprawling. Then he leapt up and grabbed the man’s wrist, squeezing to force the knife from his grip.
The man howled with pain and dropped the weapon. “Don’t hurt me, my lord.”
“What do you want?” Elijah rasped. He arced forward until he knelt over the man. He held his wrist and poised his blade near the man’s throat.
The man’s gray eyes were wide with fear, and his pockmarked face was pale. “I was jes’ told to fetch a box from inside the coach.” The tapestry.
“Who ‘told’ you this?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. Jes’ a bloke down the pub earlier.”
“Where?” Elijah pushed the word through his clenched teeth. He pressed the knife snug against the brigand’s flesh.
“Worcester.” The single word squeaked from the man’s lips.
“Major!” Wade’s call pulled Elijah off his captive. He didn’t relinquish his grip on the villain’s wrist however. He merely dragged the man with him as he emerged from the coach.
“What is it?” Elijah looked down the road, but the only people he could see were Miss Bowen, Grey, and their coachman rushing toward them. He turned his attention to Wade and Timmons.
“We need to get Timmons to a doctor,” Wade said.
“Let’s get him in the coach.” Elijah pulled the criminal out, heedless that he tumbled to the ground. “Grey, do you have a weapon you can train on this miscreant?”
She raised a pistol and pointed it at the villain. “I do, my lord.”
Elijah relinquished the quaking man to Grey’s custody and replaced the knife in his boot. He and Wade lifted the bleeding Timmons into the coach.
“Let’s take him into Leominster and find the doctor there,” Elijah said. “And we’ll turn the would-be thief in to the magistrate.”
“My lord, I beg of you to let me go.” The pitiful whine of the criminal’s voice wafted into the coach.
“Stay here with him,” Elijah directed Wade before leaving the coach once more. “I’ll take over, Grey. You ride with Wade and Timmons. Miss Bowen, if you don’t mind, I’d like your coachman to drive them. I can drive your coach.”
Elijah stripped his cravat from his neck and went to the criminal. “Turn and put your hands behind your back.”
The man whimpered as he complied. Elijah quickly bound his wrists.
“You’ll ride in the other coach.” He glared at the man. “Go.”
The criminal tripped as he started toward Miss Bowen’s vehicle.
Elijah looked up at Miss Bowen’s coachman, who’d climbed up into his driver’s seat. “Go on now. We’ll see you in town.”
The coach started down the road as Elijah followed the bound miscreant toward Miss Bowen’s coach. She fell into step beside him.
“Miss Bowen, you’ll sit up beside me.”
She nodded. “Timmons will be all right.”
Elijah kept his gaze fixed on their captive’s back. “Probably. The wound didn’t look as though it was bleeding enough to be mortal.”
“Have you seen that before?” Her question was soft, tentative, and quickly followed by a brisk, “Never mind. I don’t wish to know.”
Good, because he didn’t wish to tell her. He looked around the road and was surprised to find all of the highwaymen and their horses were gone. They’d each been injured, but Elijah had seen wounded men achieve feats they ought not to be able to accomplish. The human body worked in mysterious ways, especially when one’s life was at stake
Elijah quickened his pace and opened the door to the coach. “Get in.” He grabbed the man by his right arm and pushed him up and inside.
The man scrambled to the rear-facing seat, his face ashen. “Please, my lord. You don’ have to take me to town. I’ve learned me lesson.”
“Are you certain you don’t recall who recruited you for this ill-conceived attempt at theft?”
“’E didn’t tell me ’is name. But ’e was big, with a scar on his nose.”
That information was better than nothing. “If you hadn’t stabbed my coachman, I might have been inclined to leniency, but as it is, I’m afraid you have an appointment with the magistrate. And I suggest you pray my coachman doesn’t die.”
The man began to sob as Elijah shut the door. He helped Miss Bowen climb up in to the seat and clambered up beside her. A moment later they were on their way to Leominster and Elijah’s pulse finally began to ebb.
“Are you all right?” She stared at his chest.
He glanced down and saw the rent in this waistcoat. “Yes, the blade didn’t get through.”
She exhaled. “I’m relieved to hear it.”
She was? Of course she was. Just as he was relieved that she’d emerged from that encounter unscathed. Watching that highwayman train his pistol on her had provoked a deep and bruising rage. Even now, he felt unsettled about the entire thing. He imagined she was at least equally disturbed. “Are you all right? I can’t imagine you and Grey are used to such peril.” He gave her a hard look. “Please tell me you aren’t used to such peril.”
“No.”
He let the tension flow from his shoulders.
“And I must thank you for your quick thinking. I can hardly believe how rapidly you dispatched those villains.”
“I had some help from Wade—and from Grey, I believe.”
“Yes, she made a remarkab
le shot. I’m only sorry I didn’t have a chance to demonstrate my ability.”
He looked at her askance. “Are you as good as Grey?”
“No, but I’m always improving. I’m confident I could’ve shot that man, perhaps not as squarely as you—”
“Stop, I don’t want to think of you shooting someone.” Killing a person was life-altering for trained soldiers. For a woman like her, it could be devastating. Not that Elijah knew personally. He hadn’t killed anyone while he’d been in the army, and he wondered if he’d mortally wounded any of those highwaymen. Possibly the one he’d shot near the collarbone—Elijah was surprised the man had been able to escape—which the man deserved for threatening Miss Bowen. Elijah would do it again to protect her.
Perhaps it wasn’t as life-changing as he’d thought. That he wanted to go to such lengths to protect Miss Bowen perhaps was . . .
“Do you have any idea who those men were?” Cate asked.
“No. I asked our captive who hired him and he claims he doesn’t know. For now, he appears to be a hireling.”
“You believe him?”
“I find it odd that he was not masked while the others were.”
“An excellent observation.” Her tone held a note of admiration.
“I’m hopeful he’ll reveal more to the magistrate once he realizes his situation is dire.”
“Will you remain for the interrogation?”
“I need to see to Timmons first. We’ll drop this bloke at the magistrate and continue on our way. I’m sorry your journey will be delayed. In fact, I believe it should be completely postponed. Once we deliver Timmons to a physician, you and Grey should return to your home.”
She flashed him a surprised glance. “I appreciate your concern, but I don’t think that’s necessary. I’ll accompany you to Stratton Hall and then we’ll go to Harlech as planned.”
Elijah frowned. Her life had been in serious danger. A gang of murderous thieves had been in pursuit of them and the tapestry. Though they’d all been wounded, Elijah couldn’t be certain the threat had been mitigated. For all he knew, there were even more villains waiting to pounce. “You and Grey could have been killed today. I must insist you return home.”
She smoothed her skirt with her gloved palm. “Again, I appreciate your concern, but we’ll continue on. You are not my keeper.”
“No, but you’re sorely in need of one,” he muttered.
Her brows rose, giving her a haughty expression. “That is why I choose not to marry. I am not ‘in need’ of anything that I can’t provide for myself.”
And that is why he chose not to marry—women were far more trouble than they were worth. If she were his wife, he’d have to keep a rein on her risky excursions. That was a problem he didn’t want. He gritted his teeth. “It’s good that you prefer to save some poor man’s sanity by choosing to remain unwed. You are an infuriating female.”
“So we’ve established,” she said wryly. “Nevertheless, Grey and I will be going to Harlech to find the sword. If you’d prefer not to travel with us—”
“You couldn’t stop me from doing so now.” He might not want to be saddled with her, but for now he was. Knowing what he did about this entire situation, he simply couldn’t let her and Grey continue on by themselves. He looked at her and she turned her head as if she felt the intensity of his stare. “I expect you to stay at Stratton Hall while I interrogate the footman, and then we’ll all go to Harlech together.”
She pursed her lips. “You needn’t be so dictatorial. That’s what I meant. Even before the highwaymen showed up, I’d decided to remain with you at Stratton Hall.”
She had? A bolt of pleasant satisfaction burrowed through the apprehension still lingering in his bones. “I’m glad we agree on that at least.” He still preferred she went home, but remaining in his presence would have to suffice, apparently.
Perhaps he ought to write to her parents and inform them of the danger surrounding her quest. Surely they could put a stop to her behavior. Actually, he wasn’t certain that was true. Furthermore, he knew how important it was to her to find this sword and to do it on her own. She’d somehow won him over. Had he done the same to her with regard to his investigation?
“Why did you change your mind about staying with me at Stratton Hall?”
She plucked at her skirt, fidgeting. “I . . . changed my mind, that’s all. You took me directly to the tapestry and I’m incredibly grateful.”
“I see. So this is reciprocation.”
She sighed. “Must you characterize it like that? I’m staying because we’re in this together.” She glanced backward and down at the coach where their captive was housed. “Now more than ever.”
Clearly their relationship had progressed to something beyond acquaintance and now they were aligned in this mission—each with their own goals, but apparently each invested in the other’s. “You care about finding out what happened to Matthew?”
She looked over at him, her lips parted in a thoroughly enticing fashion. “I do. I particularly care that it doesn’t also happen to you.”
For the briefest moment, he wondered what it might be like to kiss her. In the middle of this beautiful summer day. Where anyone could happen upon them. He mentally chided himself for such ridiculous thoughts. He couldn’t dally with someone like her. And even if he could, she was a distraction he didn’t need right now. Obtaining answers about Matthew was his primary goal—nothing was more important.
Chapter 11
By the time they reached Stratton Hall, Cate was overheated and tired—both mentally and physically. After delivering the weeping criminal to the magistrate, they’d gone directly to the physician’s home, where Grey and Wade had taken Timmons. The physician had stitched him up and proclaimed him well enough to be moved to a nearby inn, where Norris paid for a caretaker. Norris had also arranged for someone to drive his coach back to Cosgrove with Timmons inside, when the physician deemed him fit for longer travel. That meant that they would now all ride together in Cate’s coach.
Cate had felt surprisingly calm during the highwaymen’s attack and even for quite some time after. But the stress of it was finally beginning to catch up with her, and she’d be the first to say she was relieved that Norris and Wade would be accompanying them to Harlech.
She was beginning to worry that Norris’s brother’s death really might have been murder. It certainly seemed someone was going to do whatever necessary to obtain the tapestry. Or more accurately, the sword. Cate wanted so badly to find it, but it wasn’t worth risking her life. She hoped Norris could obtain answers from his brother’s former valet. She glanced over at the earl as they walked into Stratton Hall. He’d been brooding since the attack—his eyes like crystal and his features set in granite. Except for that moment on the coach when she’d said she didn’t want him to die like his brother. Norris had stared at her mouth . . . Her gaze was riveted to his lips as she remembered the feel of them against hers.
He looked at her then and she forced herself to turn away and greet the butler.
“Good afternoon, Colman. It’s a pleasure to see you again.” Cate hadn’t been to Stratton Hall in a few years. It wasn’t a terribly fit destination for young, unmarried ladies, even if they were relatives and brought their own bodyguard. She glanced at Grey, who’d entered behind them with Wade and now stood in the background.
“Welcome, miss, we received your note earlier today.” They’d sent a missive ahead of them from the inn to give Stratton time to prepare for their arrival. “His lordship is delighted to have you and Lord Norris as his guests.” Colman flicked a glance at Norris. “His lordship is sorry to hear about the difficulty you encountered. He hopes your footman will recover.”
“Thank you. His prognosis is good,” Norris said.
Colman gave a nod. “His lordship will be pleased to hear it. We’ve prepared rooms for you.” He gestured for a footman to come forward. “Smith will take you up. I regret to inform you that his lordship is cur
rently indisposed, but he hopes to see Lord Norris for dinner. Unfortunately this evening’s entertainment won’t be suitable for you, Miss Bowen, and you’ll need to dine in your room. His lordship prays you understand.”
“Understand” was perhaps not the best word, but she summoned a placid smile. “I appreciate his lordship welcoming us on such short notice. Of course, I wouldn’t wish to disrupt his plans.”
“It’s no disruption. He is quite enthusiastic to host Lord Norris.”
“Tell his lordship I’ll see him later then,” Norris said. “And thank you for handling the coach.”
Colman inclined his head and it seemed they were dismissed to their rooms. Cate couldn’t wait to have a bath and wash away the heat and grime of the road.
As the footman led them up the stairs, Cate shot Norris a sideways glance. “Do you have any idea what sort of dinner you’ll be attending?” she whispered.
“One at which I eat and drink?”
She suppressed a smile. “Likely with feminine assistance. Stratton is notorious for his debauched dinners. I’ve heard some of the food is actually served on the women.”
Norris muttered a curse. “How in the world do you know that?” He kept his voice low, but the footman—and Wade and Grey—could probably hear them anyway.
She shrugged as they started along the upper gallery. “Everyone knows that. Everyone who’s been in England, that is,” she amended.
“Even when I lived here, I hadn’t heard of that, unless it’s a new development.”
“No, he’s always been an utter reprobate. It’s why Lady Stratton left.”
“I see.”
Neither his statement nor his expression reflected whether he found the idea repulsive or enticing. Thinking of him participating in Stratton’s lurid entertainments set her teeth on edge. Was she jealous? She was attracted to Norris, but she had no claim on him whatsoever. And wanting to exchange another kiss or two didn’t mean she desired anything more.
She ought not care how he spent his evening. But she did. Even so, she couldn’t bring herself to ask.