He cautiously approached a small “survivor’s hut,” as those from the area called the structures. The shelters were nothing more than four walls and a dry roof. Occasionally, one might find such a hut with a wooden floor, but most had been designed purely to provide shelter from the elements.
The dust-encrusted windows blocked his view, and so Carter possessed no other option than to enter the unknown. With a sigh of resignation, he kicked the door, but it did not give. Expecting to encounter an armed opponent, Carter jumped to the side to avoid a counter attack, but silence prevailed. Again, he kicked the door; this time, the splinter of wood rewarded his efforts. With his shoulder to the panels, he shoved with all his might, and the door gave a little, but it remained frustratingly impenetrable.
As he stepped away to kick it a third time, Law appeared by his side. “On three,” Law declared, and Carter nodded. Even in this madness, it was comforting to be standing shoulder to shoulder with his brother. “One. Two. Three,” he pronounced. This time the door sprung wide, slamming into the wall, and Carter led the way into the darkness.
Gun at-the-ready, the empty room brought instant disappointment. “Where is she?” he growled as he turned in a gallingly silent circle.
“I have no idea,” Law responded in bewilderment.
“Lowery!” He heard the desperate call of James Kerrington.
Following the sound, Carter rushed from the hut, in search of his friend. A second shout drew him further into the enclave. Bursting through an untamed stand of bilberry bumblebee and bog asphodel, he came to a stumbling halt beside his father. Perched on the edge of a steep drop off sat a wagon, its rear draped over the cliffside, precariously teetering forth and back.
“Stay alert,” he cautioned as he slowly approached the wagon. He wished to rush to the cliff’s edge and make certain Lucinda’s was not lying crushed on the rocks below, but Carter had learned his lessons well. His eyes scanned the ground searching for traps, and he was rewarded when he discovered a perfectly concealed fuse line, running beneath one of the wagon’s wheels in the direction of several large boulders. “Lexford!” he pointed toward the ground and to the rocks, and viscount moved guardedly along a circular route to examine the situation.
“Give me a moment,” Lexford instructed as he bent to the task.
Carter motioned the others to hold their positions while Lexford defused whatever awaited them. The viscount had always held the steadiest hand when it came to gunpowder combinations.
“It is clear,” Lexford announced as he stood. “An elementary attempt.” The viscount’s cocky smile told Carter the fuse line had been no more than a convincing decoy.
“Hold your positions,” Carter warned. He did not need to look to know Kerrington, Lexford, and Godown had their backs to him. His friends surveyed the area: Their party was in an exposed position. Although he had not asked, Carter realized Mr. Beauchamp stood guard over whomever his friends had captured earlier.
He sidestepped, keeping the hill to his back. As he drew nearer the wagon, Carter’s breathing eased. There was nothing from the ordinary about the abandoned wheeled vehicle. The tongue faced the back of the hut, and there was a storage box for farm tools upon the bed. One wheel hung off the cliff’s edge, but nothing else appeared suspicious. Perhaps, the culprits had made an effort to hide the wagon, and he and the others had interrupted their plan. It appeared those they pursued had meant to send the wagon over the cliff. Or perhaps this was a weird coincidence–an abandoned wagon was not solid evidence. “Mayhap we followed the wrong trail,” he called. “There is nothing here.”
The sweat beaded between Lucinda’s breasts, but she held herself stiffly in place. She supposed it was possible if the box slid from the wagon it would simply land roughly upon the ground, splitting open and freeing her from her “prison.” Yet, something in her gut told her an escape would not come that easily. Not only had the box shifted, but also had the wagon upon which it rested. She did not know what awaited her, but Lucinda was determined to delay the inevitable for as long as she could.
She schooled her mind to conjure up the image of Sir Carter again. She had longed him. It was an intense, irrefutable need she could not eliminate. The baronet’s loving countenance had a calming effect on her heart. If Lucinda admitted her obsession, calm was not the term she might have used; but despite how thoughts of the man always made her emotions stutter–the tension tight between them, such a flood of delight filled her when in Sir Carter’s presence she found comfort in her desire for him. She easily could recall his scent–strong and masculine, clean soap and sandalwood. His voice–quiet, but firm–a tone, which would quell the most dangerous of men and seduce the most unwilling female.
“Mayhap we followed the wrong trail. There is nothing here.”
Lucinda’s eyes sprung wide. Had she imagined he had come for her? Surely if it were her imagination she would dream of Sir Carter professing his love. She listened with her whole being. Muffled voices–too far away for her to delineate what they discussed. Lucinda held her position. What if the stranger–her abductor–had returned?
“Then we should question those you have captured.”
Sir Carter’s voice. Lucinda was certain of it, and he was close. She opened her mouth to cry for his assistance, but nothing came out.
“What of Lucinda?” Charleton asked as he looked about dejectedly, and Carter knew a similar sinking feeling: He had failed her again.
“Beauchamp has two men tied up on the other side of the clearing,” Godown explained.
“Then we should question those you have captured.” Reluctantly, he turned his back on the cliffside. Carter’s mind raced to catch up with the reality of their futile chase. Had his enemies meant to play a game? “I thought…” he began. As he took the first step to walk away, the obvious arrived. “Wait!” he ordered. Carter knew all eyes had fallen on him.
Tentatively, he edged closer to where the wagon teetered upon the ledge. Placing a steadying hand on the wooden side, his free hand reached for the box. “Lucinda?” he said on a rasp of disbelief. “Lucinda, are you within?” His fingers clutched at the joint holding the box together.
A sob answered his question. “Carter?”
“I am here,” he said anxiously. “Do not move. I mean to have you out soon.” He turned to the others. A strange reticence invaded his heart. Despite her perilous position, Carter had found her. A moment of profound silliness brought a smile to his lips. “She is within the box. We must secure the wagon before it tumbles to the rocks below.”
Immediately, Kerrington and Godown caught the wagon tongue to brace it. The wagon sat on a slight descent, leading to the cliff’s edge. Lexford instructed, “We require rocks behind the wheels.”
Carter, Law, the earl, and Blakehell retrieved several of the larger rocks, which peppered the hillside. “Hurry!” the earl pleaded as he huffed and puffed under the weight of a large stone. Carter admired the man’s dedication to his niece. Not many men would turn their worlds inside out to welcome a poor relative. Carter dropped another stone at Lexford’s feet. The viscount had crawled under the wagon to stack the stones so as to block the wheels backward movement. “That should be enough,” Lexford declared as he scurried from beneath the wagon. “Captain, you and Godown must make certain the wagon tongue does not tilt upward.”
“We have it,” Kerrington assured. “Just roll the damn thing our direction!”
“Everyone, use your shoulders!” Carter instructed. He purposely placed himself where he might observe her enclosure. He was not certain what he would do if the box suddenly pitched to the side, but he meant to be in a position to save Lucinda Warren if Fate presented them another debacle.”
“Lucinda!” Charleton called in desperation as he grunted against the effort of moving the wagon.
“I am here, Uncle,” she responded in a hopeful voice.
“Hold my darling girl!”
“Again!” Carter shouted as the wagon rolled forwa
rd a few inches and then rolled back into place. It would be so much easier if all four wheels were on solid ground.
Godown asked, “Should I retrieve a horse?”
Carter pressed his weight against the side of the wagon. “There is not time.” He held onto the side of the wagon so tightly his knuckles cramped from the strain.
Kerrington ordered, “Everyone, on two. One! Two!” Carter could feel the desperation coursing through his veins. He could lose her forever. His muscles twitched with the exertion as his heels dug into the rocky surface.
“Carter!” Her voice plaintively called, and he doubled his efforts. Even with the desperation of her tone, he relished the sound of his name upon her lips. Slowly, the wagon inched forward.
When the wheel touched the solid ground, he encouraged. “Almost there!”
Again, his friends and family responded, and Carter realized how blessed he was to know such devotion. His gloved hands caught the wheel and directed it along the ground until it rested upon the rock surface. He straightened to mark how far from the cliff edge the wagon sat. “Enough!” he called as he scrambled into the back of the wagon. Kneeling beside the box, Carter took a careful examination of the situation. “Lexford, assist me in lifting this damn thing from the wagon. The rest of you be prepared to keep the wagon from rolling backward again.”
“Permit me to wedge these logs between the spokes.” Godown lifted a broken tree limb to slide it between the openings in the wheels.
When the marquis had finished, Lexford tentatively climbed upon the seat. The wagon inclined, and Carter felt the wooden seat shift beneath his feet. “Do not move, Mrs. Warren,” he warned. He spoke to the side of the box. “Lord Lexford and I mean to hand you down, and then we will release you.”
“I am frightened,” she wailed.
He felt his heart falter. “As are we all,” he said ironically, “but this is no worse than we experienced at Waterloo. We prevailed then, and we will prevail now.”
She remained silent for several elongated seconds. Carter hoped she understood his implications: He knew her secrets. Instead of responding to his declaration of their connection, she said, “Tell my uncle I wish to go to Lancashire.”
“I am here, my girl,” Charleton said in relief. “I mean to have you safe at Charles Place soon.”
Carter wedged his fingers beneath the foot of the box, while Lexford took the head. With a nod of agreement, they used their knees to lift upward. The movement caused the wagon to shift, and they paused until the movement ceased. “Easy,” he whispered roughly.
Carefully, they edged toward the right side of the wagon. It was more stable than the left because the wheels were buried in the grass tuffs between the rocks. Godown and Law scrambled to position themselves to accept the box. “Lower it slowly,” Carter cautioned. It amazed him how light the weight. Lucinda Warren could not be more than nine stone. Bending as one, Carter and Lexford lengthened their reach to sit the rough box into the marquis’s and Law’s outstretched arms.
“We have it,” Godown announced as he adjusted his grip. Carter and Lexford jumped down to assist the pair in setting the box firmly on the ground.
“Thank God!” Charleton expelled on an exhalation, and Carter understood. All the strength had seeped from his limbs. He rotated his shoulders to relax his muscles before he crawled toward the still closed box.
Kerrington ordered, “We must find a means to open this latch. Mrs. Warren must be smothering within.”
“Are there tools in the hut?” Godown asked.
The baron volunteered. “I will have a look.”
Carter knew his father did not approve of the situation, which was steeped in scandal, but Carter did not care. All he wanted was to release Lucinda Warren from her wooden cell and to hold the woman in his embrace once more. It felt a lifetime had passed since they had last come together.
“There is a small opening between the slats,” Lucinda instructed, and Carter noticed how her voice spoke of her resolve to survive.
Lexford announced, “I have a hand shovel attached to my saddle.” The viscount shrugged. “An old habit. From when we were in Persia. Should I retrieve it?”
Carter nodded his agreement. He was on his knees beside the box, looking for the opening Mrs. Warren had indicated. We must wedge something into this space.” He gestured wildly. “Everyone should look for a sturdy log or a sharp rock.” As the others stepped away, Carter crawled closer to the opening. He required a moment to speak privately to Mrs. Warren. “Lucinda?” he said on a rasp. “Did they hurt you?” He prayed her captor had not violated her.
“Lots of bruises and aching muscles,” she confessed. “And my hair is in terrible disarray.”
Carter smiled easily. Only a woman would worry upon her hair. “To me, you are always beautiful.”
“You are a delightful flatterer, Sir Carter,” she said primly.
Each of her rebukes was like coming home. Carter had missed her more than he had thought possible. When he heard her desperation, there was such a feeling of bewilderment and guilt and disbelief that he had to respond. With Lucinda Warren, he experienced a fierce need for possession. Even with the box separating them, Lucinda was dangerously arousing. “I should assist the others. I want you free.” His voice was raw with desire, and Carter swallowed hard.
Lexford returned, carrying the metal shovel, no more than twelve inches in length. They each had carried one when they had been in the field. It was similar to the ones soldiers used to bury their dead. “We can wedge the tip behind the slats and use a rock as a hammer.” Lexford was on his knees beside Carter. “Mrs. Warren, cover your eyes.”
“I cannot move my arms,” she admitted. “The space is too confining.”
Lexford mumbled a curse. “Then turn your head as far to the left as possible. Squeeze your eyes shut and clamp your lips tightly closed.”
“I understand.”
Carter assisted Lexford in inserting the shovel’s tip between the slats and holding it in place. Lexford retrieved a flat rock from those beneath the wagon. “Hold it steady,” he said as he used the rock to pound the metal into the opening.
Carter felt the vibration through his whole body, but the sound of the wood ripping away made the pain worthwhile. “Again,” he encouraged.
Kerrington reappeared. “Use this one. It has less slate in it and will not crumble so quickly.”
Lexford changed out the rocks. He lifted the new one with both hands and let it strike the handle’s tip. The opening increased.
Kerrington instructed. “Move the tool’s tip closer to the joint. We must free the nails.”
Carter yanked the shovel from the opening and wedged it again in the small space between the two slats forming the right corner. “Do you have it, Lexford?”
“I am prepared.” This time, the viscount struck the metal a powerful blow. When the nail pulled away from the wood, Carter and Kerrington caught the freed slat and tugged it from the box’s side.
“The next one,” Carter instructed as he placed the metal wedge behind the second slatted joint.
With two more strikes of the rock, the second slat came free. Charleton and Godown had returned, and they joined in the battle to liberate Mrs. Warren.
“Stay safe, my girl,” the earl said through joyful tears.
Unable to wait for the third slat to be removed, Carter and the earl caught the wood and tugged. They were united–the two men who loved Lucinda Warren. When the board gave way, sending him and Charleton tumbling onto their backsides, Carter laughed in relief, while the tears pooled in his eyes. He had not failed her.
He righted his position to sit beside the box to see Kerrington and Godown assisting Mrs. Warren from her enclosure. They, literally, had their hands beneath her head and feet and sliding her sideways toward them, and then she was free. A beautiful woman lying upon the grass. Carter wished to cover her with his body and kiss her senseless, but with others looking on he held for a few awkward seconds.
And in that time, her uncle moved to cradle her in his protecting arms. Mrs. Warren’s body rocked with sobs of relief, and Carter’s fingers instinctively reached for her.
“Where is father?” Law asked. The others looked on awkwardly.
Carter pulled his gaze from the domestic scene. “The baron sought tools to free the lady. He meant to search the hut.”
“I will find him,” Law announced.
Carter stood and knocked the dust from his breeches. His body craved a hot soaking bath–preferably one he could share with Lucinda Warren. “No, I will do it. It will provide the baron the opportunity to address my irresponsibility.” He glanced to where Charleton assisted Lucinda to her feet. Mrs. Warren clung to the earl’s lapels. “Gather everyone. We should return the lady to Blake’s Run as soon as possible.” Reluctantly, Carter turned his steps from the woman he desired.
He strode purposely toward the structure, but his mind remained on the cliff’s edge and a war widow. Therefore, when he entered the still open door, Carter did not expect the scene upon which he stumbled: The baron stood against the wall, his hands raised to his shoulders, and Cyrus Woodstone pointed a gun at the baron’s heart.
“We have been waiting for you,” Woodstone said coldly.
In that instant, Carter was grateful he had not permitted Law to seek out their father. Carter’s training could prove the difference. “You provided us many challenges,” he said evenly as he sidestepped slowly toward his father.
Realm 06 - A Touch of Love Page 29