The Rakehell Regency Romance Collection Volume 2

by MacMurrough, Sorcha

  "Some of my clothes are missing, and various other of my things have been used. Her riding habit is gone," he reported back to his wife a short time later.

  "Your things?"

  "It looks like she's had someone staying in the blue room. A man."

  "A man? With Sarah, of all people?" Pamela squeaked.

  He nodded. "Now, now, let's not jump to any conclusions. I'm sure there is a perfectly reasonable explanation--"

  "For your spinster sister to have a man living in the house? I dare say, but not one any of us are going to be pleased about. Except possibly her."

  Jonathan gave his pert blonde wife a quelling look. "I trust her implicitly. But when I get my hands on the swine--"

  "Now who's jumping to conclusions? She's old enough--"

  "Oh, never mind," he said impatiently, ruffling his sandy hair with one hand. "We've come back to a house that's been wrecked and put back together, and is completely empty. No sign of Sarah, or the man who has been staying here. It makes no sense. You wait here, love. I'm going down the road to see Jenny and Caleb."

  Pamela sped after her husband. "I couldn't bear the suspense. I'm coming with you!"

  They scrambled back into the carriage with alacrity and the vicar whipped up the horses urgently.

  The old man was delighted to see the newlyweds back, but broke down when he told them the news about Jenny.

  "What do you mean, Jenny's dead?" Jonathan asked, aghast.

  "Aye, shot her so they did when they were trying to take Mr. Alexander."

  "Who on earth is Mr. Alexander?"

  The old man look thunderstruck. "Why, your cousin, of course."

  "My cousin?" Jonathan gasped, feeling more ill by the minute. So far as he knew, his only cousin was Ferncliffe. And by rights he ought to have been executed by now.

  "Huge, black hair, golden eyes, covered in scars all over his back."

  Jonathan collapsed onto a stool, stunned. "He was HERE?"

  "Aye, staying here and in Bath. With Miss Sarah."

  The vicar gaped at the old man.

  "Jonathan, darling, who is--"

  "And they came for him, you say?" Jonathan managed to wheeze.

  "Aye, set fire to the house and all. Attacked us like we was being laid siege to. Our very own war in Somerset." He shook his head.

  Jonathan leapt up from his seat and began to pace back and forth in front of Cable small stone fireplace. "Damnation! They've found Jason." He thwacked one powerful thigh with the palm of his hand, willing himself to think.

  Her blue eyes rounded like saucers. "Jason? Here? Oh my Lord. What do we do now, Jonathan?"

  Caleb said, "They're heading south, toward Lyme, Jed Miller said. He stopped in here to tell Tim and Edgar he needed their help. They went for Mr. Stone and Mr. Branson the magistrate's son, like your sister told him to."

  Jonathan blew out a ragged breath, and paced up and down in front of the fire for another moment. He flicked one stray lock of sandy hair out of his eye impatiently. "That's good, very good. At least Sarah is alert to the danger and thinking clearly. They didn't harm her, take her, did they?" he demanded.

  "No, only Mr. Alexander. She figured it out after they had already ridden off in the carriage that came for him. She said it was a trick. He went with a woman who claimed she was his wife."

  Jonathan shook his head. "I know his wife is dead. No, it's someone working with Ferncliffe and his associates."

  "Where's Sarah now?" Pamela demanded.

  "She went after them on horseback, sir. She loves him. Well, they're in love with each other, I should say."

  The vicar and his wife both stared at each other in surprise. In the end Jonathan looked relieved. "I can't think of anyone I would like better for a brother-in-law. But we need to keep him alive before than can happen. I have to go, my love."

  His blond wife shook her head vehemently. "I'm coming with you!"

  Normally Jonathan would have argued, but her resolute gaze and lift of her chin convinced him. "All right, Pamela, but we have to leave now. Are you sure you're up to it? I know it's asking a lot, but Sarah might need you, and truth to tell, I'm loath to leave you behind."

  "Wither thou goest, darling."

  He kissed her hard, thanked Caleb and told him he would see him soon.

  Jonathan and Pamela headed out of the house and down the road after Sarah and Alexander as fast as their carriage horses could go.

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Sarah had ridden for so hard for so long that she began to think about finding a livery stable to change her mount. She was reluctant to ride a strange horse, but she knew hers would be tiring soon, and still the carriage ahead had not stopped for a rest or change of animals.

  Captain Breedon was arrogant enough that he had not even bothered to look back to see if they were being followed. At a couple of points where the road was rutted, she had even come within sight distance of them, and had been forced to hang back.

  She tried to form a plan in her mind, but the only things she could think of were to steal two horses and gallop away with Alexander off the roads and through the field to some sort of safe haven, or try to conceal themselves, wait for the cover of night, and then get back to Brimley somehow. Go to the Bransons' home and try to stay safe in the kind old magistrate's protection.

  Sarah rode on, praying that no harm would come to the baby nestled deep within her body, but knowing she was willing to risk anything to get Alexander to safety. Her back throbbed, her legs and buttocks ached, but she pounded on, at one with the horse, mile after mile, praying with all her might that her bargain with God did not mean his death. Or her own.

  The sky was still darkened with storm clouds, and still they pressed south. Sarah could feel the odd fat drop of rain splash on her face or hands as she went, and hope the weather would convince them to stop soon.

  After about another six miles, the carriage neared a large tavern and livery stables, and at last began to slow. Sarah sped up and galloped into the courtyard, so that when the grooms came to attend to the animals, they thought she was an outrider with the party.

  "Just rub them down and give them some oats," she ordered, slinging her sword behind her out of sight under her cloak and taking down her bag of weapons.

  "The gent said to change them," one of the men said, puzzled.

  "We'll have to stop somewhere at nightfall. They can last until then."

  The man looked doubtful, but did as he was told, all too glad to do his job quickly, and get out of the rain. When he was finished, he left the team standing in harness.

  Sarah unbuckled the tracers, so that if they were whipped up, they would run off and leave the carriage stationary.

  Then she went around the back of the inn, and looked for the privies. She could only hope that Alexander would come out alone, but given he was blind, that was probably a forlorn hope. They also would not let their quarry out of their sights so easily now that they had him, though they might get careless if his suspicions were not fully aroused. If one of them did come out with him, she had the element of surprise. With that and some cunning, she might be able to overpower the Captain, or the driver. At least there were only two of them.

  And Marielle, she reminded herself. But Sarah didn't count her as much of an adversary. Not unless she was armed to the teeth, which she very much doubted. And she couldn't have very many brains if she was siding with Ferncliffe and Breedon against the Rakehells.

  So Sarah waited in the worsening storm, the wind and rain swirling around her, soaking her clothes through. She huddled in the overhang of the eaves, feeling more and more wretched by the minute. She shivered, and tried to keep her powder dry under her jacket.

  Eventually she heard some men approaching. She peeped out from her hiding place, but she did not know either person. She pressed back in under the eaves.

  When they had gone, she went back to the front to check that the team was still there. It was.

  Sarah looked u
p the road to the left and right, but there was still no sign of Henry Stone and his friends. Not that she was sure how they could help. At this point Breedon had nothing to lose by just killing her beloved on the spot and saying it was the fault of their presumed attackers.

  At least there were a fair number of witnesses inside the public tavern. They would be unlikely to do anything obvious in front of a dozen people or so who could testify against them later.

  She slid along the wall and went back to conceal herself once more. A trio of men came out, but they too were strangers. Sarah stood on, drenched and wretched, telling herself to just be patient and keep her powder dry. One false move could be the death of both of them. Unless they had taken him up to a chamber, the better to...

  Her ears pricked as she heard the sounds of booted heels ringing on the flagstones. It was two men, she was sure of it. As she strained to listen she recognized Alexander's hesitant gait.

  "There's a step down here, Alexander," she heard the Captain say.

  Her pistols at the ready, she peeked out and saw Breedon nearest her. Raising the butt of one weapon, she swung it at him and shouted, "Alex, run. It's a trap!"

  Breedon ducked out of the way of her blow and turned on Alexander. The Captain swung his fist and connected with the other man's jaw, sending him sprawling in the mud.

  Then Breedon began to fumble with his pistol. It sparked, but the damp powder fizzled and the ball did not eject.

  Sarah did not hesitate. She shot the Captain in the arm, disabling him before he could get off another round.

  He began to shout to his driver for help and turned on her, snarling like a rabid dog. "I'm going to bloody well kill you, you bitch!"

  "You won't get away with this. All of my friends know. They'll be here any minute."

  "Too late for you."

  He lunged, knocking her off her feet. Her pistol sailed out of her hands as she hit the ground and landed in a pile of soaking hay. He wrapped his hands around her throat, and began to squeeze. She clawed at his wrists, then moved one hand lower. She struggled for a moment to pull the second pistol free of her belt, and brought it to his head.

  "Let her go, Breedon!" Alexander shouted.

  "Yes, let her go, Breedon. Or the last thing you'll see before you die is my face, and the smile on it as I rip you limb from limb," came a loud voice to her left.

  Sarah dragged in a startled breath past her constricted throat. She could almost swear the voice was her brother's.

  The Captain let got of her neck with one hand, grabbing the gun. He tried to yank it free of her grasp. Or did he?

  She felt his finger upon hers on the trigger, and she began to squeeze. Was he squeezing as well?

  The weapon went off with a loud crash, and blood flew in every direction. The heavy body landed on top of her with a thud. Sarah shrieked in horror.

  Her brother and Malcolm Branson hauled the corpse off Sarah and helped her to her trembling feet. She found herself in her Jonathan's arms as he checked her for injuries.

  "Sarah! Sarah!" Alexander bellowed from where he had fallen. He was crawling towards her on the ground, reaching out blindly in the strange location in a desperate effort to find her.

  "She's all right. Just a bit winded," Jonathan reassured him.

  Alexander got to his feet then, and he and Sarah fell into each other's arms. "God, my love, you saved me. When I heard the gun go off, I thought-"

  "It's all right. It's over now. You're safe. We're safe, I promise," she said tearfully, before giving him a resounding kiss right in front of everyone.

  Her brother cleared his throat after a time. "Good to see you again, Jason." Jonathan came forward with his hand out.

  Alexander blinked. "Jonathan Deveril. The real one." He shook hands, before falling to his knees once more, clutching his temple.

  "The captain hit him hard. We need to get him inside," Sarah said desperately, trying to support his now-dead weight as he collapsed. She flicked the rain-drenched hair out of his face and kissed him. "Oh, darling, please, stay with me-"

  Henry Stone now stepped forward as well, and he and Malcolm Branson took him from the struggling Sarah and lifted him. She hurried into the inn now with Jonathan and demanded a couple of rooms post-haste.

  The driver and Agnes, seeing Sarah with her brother, knew that the game was now up. They bolted from their tavern benches and ran for the front door.

  Her brother began to run after them, but Sarah stayed him with one hand. "They can't get far. I unfastened the harnesses."

  Jonathan waved Tim and Edgar over to apprehend them, and turned to Henry and Malcolm. They all gripped the unconscious man more tightly as they brought Alexander up the stairs to the first vacant chamber.

  "Help me get these wet, filthy things off him and get him into bed," Sarah said, undoing his cravat and stock.

  "Well, little sister, I can see I'm going to have a wedding to perform as soon as we get home," Jonathan said in a dry tone.

  "As soon as possible," she said with a smile. "I love Alexanader. You are friends, aren't you? And you won't mind?"

  Jonathan smiled, surprised but pleased. "Not at all. We are indeed friends. He's a good man. Very brave. He's risked a lot for both of the countries he loves. He lost his sons and wife as a result as well."

  Alexander gasped, "Sarah! Sarah!"

  "I'm here, love."

  "God, it's so dark!"

  "I know. But it will be all right, I promise. You being blind doesn't matter."

  "I've been so blind. God, the pain! I remember. I can see it all now." His eyes rolled up into his head, and he passed out.

  Sarah commanded, "A doctor, and some brown paper and vinegar, and some caraway and ginger."

  "The doctor is on his way, for both of you," her brother told her. "I'll see about the rest of the things myself."

  "Thank you, Jonathan. If you hadn't come-"

  He patted her hand. "You were doing just fine without me, my love. Caleb told me everything. But glad to help. I'm just sorry I wasn't here sooner. Poor Jenny."

  She smiled sadly. "But if you had been, we might never have had the chance to fall in love, and he might have ended up in even more danger."

  Jonathan nodded pensively. "Aye, it's true. So the Lord really does work in mysterious ways."

  She hugged her brother. "If I ever had any doubts, I now possess your complete conviction, Brother. And will thank Providence every day for the gift of a man and love so rare."

  He kissed his sister on the brow. "Amen to that. And no less than you deserve, my dear. So, let me go for the doctor now, and I shall see you anon. I can't wait to hear more about how this miracle transpired."

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Much later, when Alexander was resting comfortably, Sarah managed to have a quick bath. She got a dry change of clothes from one of the stable boys, and hurriedly donned them, eager to return to her beloved's side.

  "I've certainly worn more elegant garb," she tried to joke with Pamela, "but it will have to do."

  Pamela waved them away. "Oh, piffle. What does it matter what you wear so long as you're safe, and happy. Besides, he can't see you anyway, poor lamb." She sniffed.

  Sarah refrained from grinning ear to ear. Only a few weeks of marriage, but already her worldly sister-in-law had changed considerably. Just as she had, through Alexander's love, she reflected with a happy smile. She yanked on the shirt, fastened two buttons, and hurried down the hall, Pamela trailing along in her wake.

  Her brother was sitting by Alexander's bedside when the two women returned.

  "I am of course delighted to see you, Brother, and will hear all your news later. But I need to know. Who is Alexander? That's what I've been calling him all this time."

  "It was a good guess. He's Jason Alexander Davenport, formerly D'Ambois. We always called him Alex at Oxford, but his code name in Spain was Jason, in honor of the Spanish Order of the Golden Fleece. He became a Rakehell, and a very good man, brilliant at langu
ages, and with a superb business mind. He was ardently opposed to any form of tyranny, and determined that he would help by setting up a network of contacts throughout Portugal, Spain and France.

  "His brothers Simon and Georges were also involved, though we didn't know them very well. They were a fair bit older. As is Alex, about three years older than me. Their operations were all kept very quiet. They were very successful at their intelligence gathering, though it was a dangerous game.

  "He married for the sake of his work, not love, to a woman who was glad of his protection because she was involved with an unsuitable man, a Bonapartist sympathizer in Spain. He was one of the men at the Court who had been stupid enough to have invited the invaders to march through their country to invade Portugal, and then wondered at the French army becoming one of aggression and occupation.