by Vanda Vadas
It remained one thing to learn coping mechanisms in familiar surrounds, yet another when he, a total stranger, had forced her into extraordinary circumstances. She hadn’t crumbled in his hands. She’d fought back valiantly, as she did now, to make her way in a world of darkness. It must be terrifying to have lost her sight and independence and to now learn humility in relying on others.
Courage could be transparent. He saw her vulnerability. Yet her bravery equalled that of his crew. She’d earned his respect.
Her being engaged to his half-brother confounded him. She had more backbone than Gareth. Marrying him would be as senseless as commissioning a rare jewel to be set in fool’s gold.
‘Tell me what you see,’ she said again. ‘Describe the garden and its plants.’
Hell! He couldn’t remember when he last cared or gave consideration to a flower or a blade of grass, let alone the layout of an English garden. His world revolved around ships, giving orders and commanding a crew. He studied the likes of maps and ocean currents, not the discipline of botany or landscape design.
‘The path ahead is skirted with lilacs, philadelphus and laburnums. There are rhododendrons with their masses of red and pink blooms.’ They walked on. He described in detail the lush rolling lawns and groves of trees.
‘Is that water I hear?’
The elation in her question gave Zach cause to smile. ‘Yes. We’ve reached the summer pavilion. Close by is a pond and fountain.’ His arm suddenly tightened around her waist. ‘Stop!’
‘What is it?’
‘Listen.’ He delighted in seeing her lips break into a smile.
‘Ducks!’ She laughed.
‘Yes. A mother leading her young. They just crossed our path.’
The tenseness she had been carrying up until now seemed to have dissolved with her laughter. She’d come alive in the open air and looked more relaxed than he’d seen her thus far.
Zach’s gaze lingered on her lips. He gave thought to her senses, how compensating for the loss of one might hone and heighten the others. Oh, to fine tune and pleasure those senses. To awaken and feed her desires. The sight of her blindfolded – vulnerable and trusting, with lips slightly parted – caused a shift in his groin.
‘Is it safe to continue?’
No. Zach chased away impious visions. He steered her towards the pavilion and together they sat on a bench. ‘Tell me your name.’
She sat ramrod straight. ‘When you reveal yours.’
‘I’ve no time for games.’
‘Listen to me, Captain –’ She gasped at her slip of the tongue. Her shoulders sagged. ‘Please, don’t punish the maid. I’m sure she didn’t mean to tell me that.’
Zach, about to refute the barbarian she believed him to be, caught sight of his lieutenant sprinting towards him. The man stopped out of earshot.
‘My man beckons me. I shall return.’ Zach stayed her with a hand on her shoulder.
Seth fought to catch his breath. ‘I’ve come straight from the village tavern. Word has it that riders scour the countryside for a woman.’ His eyes strayed to the pavilion. ‘They’re enforcing the right to search each and every dwelling.’
‘A name. Who is it they search for?’
‘I don’t know. The words blind and His Grace were reason enough for me to take leave. They could be headed this way.’
‘How much time do we have?’
Seth shrugged.
Zach paused a moment. ‘Tell Lily to pack a blanket and bare essentials for the lady, then meet me in the library. Saddle the horses. The woman rides with me. Now go!’
‘Aye!’
Zach returned to her side. Until the viscount delivered him news from London, he could not free the woman. He refused to admit his personal feelings had anything to do with ensuring she remained under his protection.
He took her arm and brought her to her feet. ‘Time to retrace our steps.’
‘So soon?’
Zach refrained from further conversation and ignored her harried question. He set a brisk pace back to the house and into the library where he settled her in a chair. ‘Wait here.’
Eloise sensed something dangerously amiss. She’d been right to mistrust his kindness. To reveal her name could put her family in peril. How odd that he should abduct her without knowing who she was.
‘Captain! I’m not an obedient pup awaiting my master’s next command. I insist you explain what –’
‘Not now!’
His raised voice shocked her into silence. What information had his man served on him to have so dramatically changed his tone?
The hurried scratch of a quill across parchment preceded the smell of hot wax. Her head turned in the direction of a familiar knock on the door.
‘Enter,’ he said.
‘You sent for me, my lord?’
‘Yes, Lily. Come in.’
Lily had already shown where her loyalties lay. Or did fear motivate her cooperation?
A chair scraped along wooden floors. The captain moved about the room. Eloise strained to listen to hushed conversation between the two.
‘Take this, Lily. You know where to hide it and who to give it to.’
‘Yes, my lord.’
‘All instructions are in the letter. You know where I’ll be. I’ll await a reply.’
‘Very good, my lord.’
Silence stretched Eloise’s nerves. It seemed an eternity before the captain spoke.
‘There are men searching for us. They’ll search this house. Ensure no evidence of our stay remains here. Keep to the usual routine. They’ll suspect nothing. Tell them the master is in London. You’ve nothing to fear.’
‘Thank you, my lord. It was lovely to see you again and please, be careful.’
‘No need to thank me, Lily. And yes, I’ll be careful.’
Eloise could have sworn she’d heard a smile in the captain’s reply. Did they embrace during the brief pause that followed?
‘I’ll be leaving now,’ he said. ‘Give serious consideration to my proposal. We may see each other sooner than you think.’
Lily giggled.
Eloise was trying to make sense of this exchange when she jumped at the light touch of a hand on her arm. ‘Goodbye, my lady,’ said Lily. ‘I wish you well.’
‘Lily!’ It was all Eloise could do not to beg ‘Help me!’ She struggled to comprehend what she’d overheard, sitting like an invisible intruder, listening to what seemed to be a sentimental parting.
And what of his proposal? What exactly was the relationship between the maid and captain? Curiosity bordered on green-eyed possession over a man not hers to possess.
The captain’s silver tongue had clearly bewitched the maid. Eloise knew better than to fall for a rake.
More importantly, their conversation gave hope that her rescue was imminent. She had to somehow delay their departure or –
‘Come!’ He hauled her to her feet.
‘No!’
‘We must go.’
Eloise twisted away from him. ‘I refuse to go anywhere with you!’
He held her firm. ‘You have no choice.’
‘Yes, I do! I choose to stay here. You said there are men looking for me. You are free to go.’
‘Not without you,’ he laughed, and propelled her forward.
Eloise dug her fingers beneath his in a futile attempt to pry his hand from her arm. ‘I’ll slow you down.’
‘I won’t let that happen.’
She was no match for his strength. ‘Where are we going?’
He came to an abrupt halt and turned her in his arms. ‘Listen to me. Our destination is no business of yours. Understand that I’ll be your eyes, your ears and your protector per se. Disobey me, and you’ll be at the mercy of your own actions. I’ve been patient long enough. Your name! What is it?’
If Eloise had never before known the meaning of fear, she knew it now. She did not doubt the truth of the captain’s threat. Still, she would not be intimidated. Her family’s
safety was more important than her own. ‘When you explain why you’ve taken me, I’ll tell you my name.’
The breath of his cynical laugh caressed her face. ‘You make a worthy opponent, my lady. Believe me, you will tell me your name. If not now, then later.’
He took her arm and continued on, moving to the left. Turning to the right. Then left again. All of a sudden, fresh air and sunshine warmed her face. Hooves clattered upon cobblestones. She caught the scent of warm horseflesh.
‘Stay still.’ He left her side.
Disoriented, she heard the creaking of leather, like someone settling into a saddle. In an ensuing blur of sensation and movement, a strong arm snaked about her waist and hoisted her upwards. Eloise recognised the intimacy of the captain’s body at her back.
‘Throw me the blanket,’ he called. Woollen warmth enveloped her head and body, leaving only her face exposed. ‘To help conceal your identity,’ he explained. His arms fixed tight about her.
There came the voice of his accomplice. ‘Let’s go.’
The horse jerked forwards, breaking into a gallop. Eloise shut her eyes tight against the rush of cool air on her face. Only days ago she’d been a hostage to the social mores and expectations of a life she’d longed to escape. But not like this. Not on a horse and as a prisoner to this man at her back. The uncertainty of what lay ahead, in a visionless future, terrified her.
If her circumstance wasn’t so dire, she’d have laughed at herself and at cruel fate. For the first time in her life, Eloise yearned for her mundane life and for the safety and security of home and family.
Chapter Eight
‘Riders!’ Seth pointed.
Zach drew rein inside the woods. Beyond lay open countryside, where he sighted two horsemen. ‘They’re travelling in the same direction we must ride.’
‘Then we’ll wait here until they’re clear out of sight.’
‘There’s no time.’ Zach looked at the woman asleep in his arms. She’d succumbed to fatigue. He checked the sun’s position against dark clouds overhead. ‘We’ve less than two hours of daylight. We must reach the coast by nightfall.’
Seth looked doubtful. ‘We can’t pass them without being seen. They could be in search of the woman.’
Zach shifted in the saddle. He nodded gravely. ‘I’ll take that risk.’
‘Surely you’re not thinking of exposing us!’
‘Only me. There’s no other way. We don’t know how long they’ll stay in this part of the country. We’ll swap horses and you’ll continue on with the woman. My mount is capable of bearing the weight of two people. Your horse can outrun anything.’
He nodded towards the riders. ‘I’ll act as a decoy and ride in the opposite direction. I want them to give chase.’ He grinned, welcoming the challenge. ‘I’ll make it worth their while.’
‘This is more than a game of cat and mouse, Captain. You’ll be risking your life. Two against one.’
Zach threw Seth a sidelong glance. ‘I’ve faced worse.’
‘But –’
‘When you deem it safe to leave the woods, do so. You know where to meet me.’
‘I won’t –’
‘That’s an order, Lieutenant! If I’m not there by dusk …’
Seth cast a nervous glance at the woman. ‘You’d better be.’
‘Press on as quickly as you can. See that you get there safely and give thought to her comfort.’
Seth grunted his obedience.
During the exchange of horses, the woman stirred, becoming fully awake in Seth’s arms. She seemed to register a stranger at her back and struggled to be free of him. Seth clamped his hand over her mouth when she looked set to voice her protest.
Zach laid a hand on her arm. ‘You need not fear my man. He’ll continue on and keep you safe. I have an errand to run.’
At this, she sounded a muffled squeal and tried to pry the hand from her mouth.
Zach squeezed her arm. ‘I’ll join you soon. Seth will protect you.’
‘That I will, my lady. Now be still so that I might put the blanket about you.’
She resisted and squirmed against him. Flustered, he tried a different approach. ‘Night draws close. Don’t force me to abandon you amid these woods.’
She stiffened. When her shoulders slumped in defeat, the lieutenant removed his hand from her mouth. Zach gave him a conspiratorial smile and handed him the blanket to conceal and wrap her in.
Zach put on his silk mask. His gaze returned to the lady. The more he examined her features, and the colour of her hair, the more he felt inclined to know her. There seemed a thread of familiarity about her eyes and their colour. Something about her expressions and the way her mouth moved when she spoke resonated with someone in his past. But who?
He swung up into the saddle and left the protection of the woods. When he reached the top of the rise, he pulled hard on the reins, causing his mount to rear up. It whinnied, attracting the attention of the two men. They looked to each other and then back at Zach.
Presenting himself as a lone masked rider, he was not wrong in his assumption that they would pursue him.
He waited until they’d gained enough ground to think they would catch him.
Zach took one fleeting glimpse at the woods where he’d left his lieutenant and the lady, before pressing the roan into a thundering gallop.
He urged his mount up a wooded hill. Intermittently, he risked a glance over his shoulder to monitor his pursuers’ progress. They seemed competent in horsemanship, leaning low in the saddle to avoid branches, and negotiating moss-covered timbers and shrubs. Misplaced hooves could prove lethal to both rider and horse.
He took note of his surrounds. A breeze had kicked up: branches swayed and leaves fell. Raindrops spattered through the leafy canopy. The light shower gradually increased to a steady downpour. The fresh scent of earth, water, foliage and horse sweat hung in the air.
Starting down the other side of the hill, he saw the valley, green and lush. At the point from where he left the woods, he spied his saving grace. He hoped the roan had enough left in him to jump as well as it ran.
They entered a field with ancient stone-walled enclosures. Zach murmured to his mount, giving the horse its head. It raced across the field at full gallop, its hooves sent clumps of soil and grass flying in its wake.
Zach leaned low in the saddle. The roan leaped into the air, clearing the height of the enclosing wall. Hind hooves clipped the rough-edged stones. He turned the horse in an arc before coming to a halt.
The two riders approached the wall. One horse stopped suddenly, refusing to jump. Its rider clung to the horse’s neck, spared from being thrown forwards. A sudden clap of thunder spooked the horse. It reared up. The man somersaulted backwards to the ground, his head hitting the damp earth with a violent thud.
The second rider cleared the wall. He turned to check on his companion who lifted his head, waved his partner on, then fell back, and lay motionless.
Zach wiped the rain from his brow. He shrugged out of his saturated long coat, transferring its cumbersome weight from his back to the horse’s rump. He leaped from his mount and braced himself for a confrontation.
Wet hair trailed past his collar. The drenched shirt and breeches clung to his powerful body. With his hand resting on the hilt of his sword, and an unyielding set to his mouth, Zach stared down the rider who galloped towards him brandishing a pistol.
He identified his opponent in an instant. It didn’t matter that they’d once been the closest of friends.
Today, they faced off as enemies.
The rider pulled the horse up with a jerk. The animal snorted, nostrils flaring.
‘Where is she?’ he demanded.
Zach inclined his head a fraction, grateful for the mask concealing his identity. ‘Marquess.’
The Marquess of Shafford dismounted. ‘As sure as this pistol is pointed at your heart, I will shoot if you don’t answer me now.’
Zach held his silence. Coal
black eyes laid down a challenge.
Shafford cocked the pistol. ‘This is your last chance!’
Zach let no hint of fear show on his face. Not a muscle flinched when the marquess aimed at his shoulder, and pulled the trigger.
Nothing.
Zach contained his relief. ‘Water negates the use of gunpowder.’
‘Damn you!’ Shafford tossed the pistol to the ground just as more thunder sent the horses bolting into the relentless rain. His hand unsheathed the sword at his waist.
Zach did likewise, adopting a defensive stance.
The marquess began to remove his coat, then stopped as if thinking better of it.
Zach lowered his sword. ‘Please, take your time. Take it off. I wish to fight a man at his best, not if he is anyway disadvantaged. Hardly makes it fair, wouldn’t you agree?’
‘You try my patience, highwayman.’ Shafford threw his coat to the ground. ‘What are your demands? Money?’
‘That’s between myself and His Grace.’
Shafford advanced. ‘Tell me where she is!’
Zach stepped out of his way. ‘Though your intentions are honourable, I have no quarrel with you nor your man over there.’
‘Answer me now, or my sword will deliver what the pistol had threatened.’
Zach inclined his head as an invitation. ‘As you wish.’
They circled each other, testing the unevenness of the soaked ground underfoot. Each assessed the other’s worth, using timing and distance to measure his skill with a blade.
Shafford stepped forth, his sword moving to strike Zach on the outside of his right thigh. Zach deflected the razor-sharp blade with a swift parry.
‘You fight with an economy of movement, Marquess, yet you waste your time and energy on me. Your man has not recovered from his fall and is more deserving of your attention.’
No sooner had he spoken the words, than Shafford’s blade cut through the air. Zach danced to one side, his arm only just evading the cut. His own sword whipped forth, slicing off several buttons from his opponent’s waistcoat. They fell, lost in the long grass at his feet.
Shafford’s eyes narrowed as if picking up on a rare and exceptional skill.
Sensing this, Zach teetered between self-preservation and loyalty to his one-time friend. ‘Perhaps, Marquess, you’ve met your match. I suggest we dismiss this senseless duel and discuss –’