Flame of Fury

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Flame of Fury Page 17

by Sharon Green


  "Bryan, it's haste ye'll be needin'," Terry said as he slid out of the saddle almost before his mount had stopped. "Them two I was followin' - 'tis a coach they were headin' for, an' it not far from th' road. The way they turned - sure an' it's to London they be goin'."

  "London?" Bryan demanded in shock. "But how can she - Of course, that's why they needed the gold! They may even be planning to leave the country. Jake! Get the rest of the experienced men mounted, and have someone saddle my horse. We're going on a rabbit hunt. Terry: how much of a lead do our rabbits have?"

  "Couple of hours at least, maybe more," Terry answered before shrugging. "Won't be matterin', though, not with them in a coach an' us in saddles. We'll be ridin' em down before they're anywhere near to London."

  "Which is exactly the way I want it," Bryan growled, anger a burning weight inside him. "And when I get her back here…"

  By the time the horses were brought out, Bryan was already armed and in his vest and coat. He mounted up and led his force toward the road at a canter, all memory of the purpose he'd spent years and a fortune on gone from his thoughts.

  "…and that's how I got out of the room," Rianne said to Angus. "When I reached the woods Cam was there, and now we're halfway to London. Are you sure you're all right?"

  That must have been the twentieth time she'd asked the question, but not without cause. The coach her brothers had bought and repaired was a good one, but no coach gave an easy ride. The four horses pulling it were as matched as the boys had been able to manage, but they'd also had to be trained to the saddle in case the three fugitives needed to ride. Saddle horses did badly pulling a coach in tandem, even when they knew how to do it. The trip was not proving an easy one at all, and the sweat on Angus's pale face from the very beginning confirmed that.

  "Ree, I'll be fine," Angus replied, also for the twentieth time. "I'm not wounded seriously at all, but even a small wound can hurt. Cam's looking for an inn or a posting house for us to stop at, and after a meal I'll be even better. Right now we have to make all the time we can, so don't mention slowing down again. Cam has to keep to this pace for as long as the horses can manage it."

  "I don't see why," Rianne countered with exasperation. "If anyone had come after us, they would have caught us by now. And if no one's chasing you two, we're completely in the clear. I know no one's after me."

  "I thought you said your husband might not know you were gone until six," Angus reminded her, sounding annoyed. "From what I saw of him two days ago on the road, he didn't strike me as a man who easily gives up what's his. You - "

  "I am not his," Rianne snapped, beginning to get angry. "The brute wanted my inheritance, and now he'll get it. Our wedding was witnessed by enough people that there's no question about his right to it, so why would he need me? He can find a woman who enjoys being lied to and tricked."

  "You told us he didn't hurt you," Angus said after a brief pause, his tone harder. "Were you lying to keep us from going after him? You sound as if he - "

  "Angus, I wasn't lying," Rianne hurried to assure him, one hand going to his shadow arm. "The man's a brute, but he seemed to be trying not to hurt me. But trickery hurts as much as a slap, and that he did do."

  "Maybe - maybe you just aren't looking at it right," Angus groped, his previous anger gone. "If the man really wanted you and couldn't get you any other way - Sometimes you have to do things you don't like in order to get what you have to have. Like us playing highwayman to get the gold for our new life."

  "That was different," Rianne protested, wishing she could see him more clearly in the dark. "We didn't just do that because we had to, but also because the people we robbed deserved it. You know they did, Angus!"

  "I doubt if they thought they deserved it," he maintained with typical male stubbornness. "All they were guilty of was being close friends with your stepfather. Sometimes, if we decide we don't like someone, everything they do - including accidents - becomes more evidence against them. We see what we want to see."

  "Are you suggesting I imagined the way he forced me to marry him?" Rianne asked with even stronger anger. "Or the way he threatened hanging for you and Cam? I know you like to think the best of people, Angus, but there's such a thing as taking that attitude too far."

  "Were you willing to marry him without being forced?" Angus countered in a voice that seemed to be weakening. "Strong men have a habit of taking what they want … even if what they want doesn't want them … The books all say so … and a man would have to be dead not to want you…"

  "You know, I think I'm tired of arguing for now," Rianne said hastily, wishing she could check him for fever, but knowing he would draw back in protest. "Let's save the rest of this for after we eat and are back on the road."

  He might have nodded there in the dark, but there were no more words. Rianne shifted where she sat to his left, trying to get comfortable despite the jouncing of the coach. And despite the sword she wore, which also interfered with the proper closing of her cloak. The night air rushing by felt cold, and she would have enjoyed bundling up against it.

  But they were on their way, and that was what counted - even though their original plans had had to be changed. Angus was dressed in some of his new finery, already playing the fine gentleman. She should have been richly dressed was well, with only Cam in his original clothes playing their coachman. Once into London they were to have sold the coach and horses, and then three rich young people would have booked passage to the colonies…

  But Angus was wounded, and couldn't be expected to use a sword if someone tried to rob them. Cam, as their driver, could retain his bow, but a sword would have looked suspicious. That meant their face-to-face protection until they reached London would have to be Rianne, and she couldn't be expected to fight in skirts. It wasn't that she minded not wearing a beautiful gown on her first visit to London, but she'd dreamed of the time so often, seeing herself sweep grandly along a street…

  I suppose I'll have to save sweeping for when we come back with our fortunes made, she thought with a wry smile. And maybe it's better this way. I can't afford to meet anyone I know, after all. Angus says that if we take lodging near the docks that won't happen, and we'll save money on top of it. Money. I wish we had more…

  It had occurred to Rianne that she could have taken one or two things from the brute's house, things he would have been able to replace once her inheritance was given over to him. But even if she'd thought of it at the time, she probably wouldn't have done it. She didn't want anything of that man's, even if it was due her. Like that wedding gift he'd offered, that magnificent necklace with the matching earrings. It had been put into her bedchamber with her clothing, as though it really did belong to her now … the way she belonged to him…

  You do not belong to him, she told herself with an inner growl. Angus was wrong in thinking he might come after you, so you have nothing to worry about. No matter what he tried to make you believe, he doesn't want you and you certainly don't want him… Look at those dark trees rushing by as this road takes you farther and farther away… No, not away, but to…

  Rianne bit her lip as she forced away the foolishness of her thoughts, and then she noticed that they were slowing. A quick look out of the window showed her a gentle river of light in the darkness, on their left a small distance ahead. Lanterns, of course, to show travelers where it was possible to stop.

  "I think we've found a roadhouse," she told Angus, suddenly aware of how hungry she was. "I hope their food is decent."

  "As long as it's served at a table that doesn't move," Angus muttered in answer. "And they haven't run out of ale…"

  Rianne smiled at that, telling herself he now sounded stronger. He was going to be all right after all, just as they would all be. In just a little while…

  Cam pulled into the drive of the roadhouse and up to its front door, but no one came running from the stables to see to their horses. Rianne moved past Angus to use the door on his side of the coach, and once she was on the
ground Cam came down to join her.

  "It looks like I'll have to take care of the horses myself," he said, frowning at the dimness of the stables. "I suppose most travelers don't arrive this late, so there aren't any night boys. First I want to get Angus inside, though. How is he doing?"

  "He's hoping they haven't run out of ale," Rianne answered with a smile that didn't last long. "If there's a physician anywhere around here, I think we ought to - "

  "No physician." Angus's voice came from above them, drawing their attention. "Even if we had the time to stop, we wouldn't want to leave a trail that clear. We'll be in London in just a few hours, and then we can stop somewhere and sleep. Tomorrow - "

  "All right," Cam interrupted with some small annoyance. "You don't have to go through our whole schedule for the next month. Do you need help getting out of there?"

  "Yes, thank you, boy," Angus answered with a grin that was faint, but definitely a grin. "Your lord would appreciate the aid of your strong right arm."

  "I'd be happier giving my 'lord' my strong right fist," Cam muttered, then grudged a grin when Rianne chuckled. If Angus was feeling well enough to tease him, then everything really would be all right.

  Once Angus was out of the coach, he insisted on walking alone. Rianne followed a step behind, ready to help him if he should need it. His gait was the least bit unsteady, but it got him in the door of the roadhouse and within sight of the tables. The common room was ahead and to the left, spread out around the small entrance area just around the door. To the right was a stairway with a counter in front of it, two closed doors, and one archway beyond the counter.

  A small man in an apron stood in front of the counter rather than behind, and one look at Angus's clothing brought him quickly forward. The glance he gave Rianne was almost as outraged as the stares of his patrons, but apparently he was more interested in pleasing a gentleman than in being offended by what the gentleman's companion had the nerve to wear.

  "Gud evenin', m'lord," the man slurred. "Ye be wantin' a room?"

  "I'm wanting a decent meal in privacy," Angus answered in the sneering tones of a haughty young gentleman. "Is it possible to get that here, or must I continue on to the next house?"

  "No, no, a meal ye'll get," the man quickly assured him, glancing again at Rianne. "Fer two, y'r lordship?"

  "For three," Angus corrected. "My man is currently seeing to the horses, but he'll join us as soon as he's through. I won't have him sickened by kitchen leavings while I still need him."

  "No, o'course not," the man agreed, bobbing as he bowed while moving backwards. "This way, y'r lordship."

  The small man finally turned, and then was more easily able to lead them to the arched opening that wasn't quite in line with the front door. Angus followed him without glancing around even once, but Rianne hadn't been able to do the same. The lamplight had shown her more than a dozen men seated at the tables in the common room, all of them with drinks and many of them taking that previously noticed interest in the new arrivals. None of them seemed to have swords or pistols, but Rianne knew she would feel better once Cam came in.

  Beyond the arch was a dining area for those who were gentry, and the small man hurried around lighting lamps. What came to view was a fairly large room with three tables, a good deal more distance between the tables than there was in the common room. The walls were a light yellow that had darkened from dirt and the passage of time, and the skimpy yellow velvet hangings reminded Rianne of a dowager too old to look good even in the most expensive of gowns. The chairs around the tables were darker yellow and upholstered, but seemed to be covered by a layer of dust.

  Despite the apparent evidence that members of the gentry usually passed this house by, Angus went directly to the center table and sat. He deliberately positioned himself facing the archway, then threw open his cloak with his right hand. Although he wasn't able to use his sword he still wore it, a pretense that should help to discourage would-be robbers. They'd have no way of knowing he was wounded, and so would see nothing but another opponent.

  Or so Rianne hoped as she took the chair to Angus's right, first removing her own cloak and putting it over the back of a chair at the next table. She was good enough to face any single opponent without worrying, but one of the tables in the common room had held five or six men. What if a group like that came at them? Would a single sword be enough to make a difference?

  "Bring me ale while the food is being prepared," Angus directed, barely glancing at the small man. "A pity it can't be wine, but in a place like this I don't dare. And something to nibble on as well, and do try not to drag your feet so."

  The man bobbed his way out of the room, obviously impressed with his newest guest, and Angus flashed Rianne a quick smile.

  "How'd I do?" he asked in a very soft voice. "Working those hours at Riniman's Inn brought me more than the extra money I wanted. Was I offensive enough?"

  "I probably would have thrown something at you," Rianne answered with her own smile, ignoring the sweat on his forehead. "You sounded like every suitor I ever had… Angus, the housekeep noticed that you didn't seat me first. Maybe you didn't remember - "

  "I remembered," he interrupted, putting his hand over hers. "As often as we went over those lessons, I'll remember to my dying day. But Ree - I think you've forgotten. You're wearing breeches and a sword, not slippers and a gown. Would a lordling like me play the gentleman with the sort of girl you probably are? I really don't think so."

  "I hadn't thought of that," she admitted with raised brows, then looked at him with what had to be very visible curiosity. "Ah - just what sort of girl am I?"

  "I refuse to answer that," he said with a wider grin. "At least not while you can use a weapon and I can't. And I think you'll have to change clothes before we look for temporary rooms in London. There won't be many questions asked out here, but once we get there we don't want any."

  She nodded her agreement, glad Angus was there to think of things like that. He'd picked up things from reading and talking to people that no one would ever have told her, and all of it had gone into their planning.

  The housekeep was back rather quickly with a tray, which held a flagon of ale and a pewter cup as well as bread and cheese. Angus let the man fill his cup before gesturing him out, then took a good swallow before turning to Rianne again.

  "You can use my belt knife on the bread and cheese," he said, handing over the weapon. "If they looked a little fresher I'd do it myself, but at this point wasting my strength would be stupid. And about that question you asked earlier, concerning what kind of girl you are? I don't think the housekeep knows either, at least not precisely. He didn't bring a cup for the ale for you, but he also didn't bring tea. He just may have seen a girl in breeches before, but certainly not with a sword."

  "Is that good or bad?" Rianne asked, slicing off two small pieces of cheese for herself and Angus before trying the bread. It might have been fresh earlier in the day, or possibly the day before…

  "We'll find out if it's good or bad by what happens afterward because of it," he answered in a cheese-induced mumble. "Hmm. Not as bad as I'd thought it would be. Better than the dried beef Cam and I had for lunch, and a lot easier to chew. Ah, thank you."

  He took the second, larger slice of cheese she handed him and began to devour it, leading Rianne to believe he hadn't had much - if any - of that dried beef he'd mentioned. She took another slice herself, but not because she found it as good as Angus did. There had been cheese on her lunch tray at the brute's, cut into small, neat squares, fine cheese with a delicate flavor. But then she'd been a captive, and now she was free… Shouldn't she be forgetting what had gone before…?

  Forgetting is easier when you have something else to think about, so Rianne went back to dreaming about what they would do when they reached the colonies. There were so many choices that they might decide to do two or three things at the same time, depending, of course, on how much of a stake they had to work with and how much things cost. I
f necessary they could add to their stake by all getting jobs, even her. She hadn't been serious when she'd told the brute she expected to work for him, but there would certainly be other opportunities he had no part of…

  "At last," Angus said, bringing her back to the present. "Set it down there, my girl, and go back for the pot of tea your master seems to have forgotten."

  A kitchen girl had brought a tray containing three large bowls, and she'd lost no time smiling at Angus and wiggling her body at him. When Angus dismissed her, the girl glared at Rianne before turning and flouncing out. Rianne wondered if the girl knew how ridiculous she looked, and then wondered if Angus thought she looked ridiculous. If he'd been alone and unhurt, would he have enjoyed the girl's obvious advances? How did men look at these things?

  "I'd love to know what that expression on your face means," Angus said after sniffing one of the bowls. "If I didn't know better, I'd wonder if you had already tasted this … stew."

  "I was just trying to figure something out, " Rianne said with a brief smile and a shake of her head. "It wasn't important, but a good meal is. Are you saying the food is inedible?"

  "I'm saying we had better even at the hostlers' table," he answered with his own headshake. "But Cam and I should be able to get it down, and even keep it there. You, though…"

  "Whatever it tastes like, I'll manage," she assured him, then looked around. "But speaking of Cam, where is he? Should it be taking this long to see to the horses?"

  "He had to cool them down before he could water them," Angus said, obviously trying to calm her worry. "He'll show up in another minute or two and accuse me of getting wounded on purpose, just so that he would have to do all the work. Ree … I didn't know whether to mention this or not, but I think I'd better. That kitchen girl noticed, so I'm afraid others will, too."

  "Noticed what?" Rianne asked, completely confused. "Angus, what are you talking about?"

  "Your wedding ring," he answered heavily, a compassionate look in his dark eyes. "You're still wearing it. I don't know if you've kept it on on purpose, but it could cause trouble for us. You know we decided a long time ago not to have me pretend to be your husband. You wanted it to be you who accomplished things, not some man's wife. I understand how you feel, but giving yourself an absent husband could be a lot worse."

 

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