Highway Revenge

by Millard, Nadine

  “I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because, you are a mystery that I am determined to solve, since there are so many which are apparently too far out of my reach,” he grumbled with a frown, and Evelyn thought for one mad moment that he was speaking of her.

  Her, Evelyn. Not her, mysterious highway non-robber.

  “There is no mystery. Nothing to solve. I just choose to earn a living this way. That’s all there is to it,” she said decisively. She didn’t need him poking around in this as well as everything else.

  Any answer he would have made was silenced by the distinct sound of approaching hooves.

  Evelyn’s heart flew into her mouth.

  “Did you hear that?” she asked, all animosity forgotten.

  He merely nodded, watching carefully now as he usually did.

  “It seems a victim is approaching.”

  She tried not to flinch at his words but victim made the whole thing seem so, well… so criminal.

  Perhaps she would just pretend to rob this carriage.

  After all, he’d seen her again now, so there was no cause to ever do this again.

  If she got rid of him quick enough, she could just loop round and go back to the manor house the long way, avoiding being seen by him, and leaving the occupants of the carriage robbery free.

  Suddenly feeling much better about the whole thing, she smiled brightly.

  “Well, it’s been nice knowing you,” she said and stuck out her hand, “but as you see, I have work to do, so I’ll bid you good evening.”

  He glanced down at her hand and then back up at her and moved his mount closer, leaning forward to peer closer still.

  “You know, you seem terribly familiar.”

  Evelyn just stopped herself from leaping back in horror. Oh God, he couldn’t recognise her!

  “I hardly see how,” she mumbled.

  He was silent for a moment before releasing a sigh.

  “No, I suppose that is impossible. Apparently, the Fates have a wicked sense of humour, throwing two impossible women with devastating eyes and annoying habits into my path.”

  Evelyn was momentarily distracted by his complimenting her eyes before his words registered.

  “I am not annoying,” she said, mightily affronted and doubly so, since she was both women.

  “Oh, but you are. Not as much as she, I’ll grant you, but then I haven’t had the pleasure of your company as much,” he continued wryly.

  “Well, you’re not exactly pleasant to be around either, sir,” she quipped.

  She really shouldn’t be enjoying this.

  “Me?” he widened his eyes innocently, and Evelyn had to bite the inside of her mouth to keep from laughing.

  But this was no good! She needed to get rid of him so she could leave before the carriage arrived.

  “Yes. You. Now, if you don’t mind I have a — er — job to get on with.”

  “Oh, don’t let me stop you,” he said with a smile.

  Her own smile froze.

  “Wh-what do you mean? You can’t stay here?”

  He shrugged his large shoulders with enviable nonchalance.

  “Why not? I must admit I find the whole thing fascinating, and while I heartily disapprove, I find myself unwilling to leave you to your own devices, should anything bad happen.”

  Evelyn felt her jaw drop open at his words.

  He’d risk being caught here, risk being thought of as a criminal because he didn’t want to leave her alone?

  The thought was humbling, and it also served to soften her toward him, which wouldn’t do at all. She needed him to leave. And quickly.

  “But, you can’t risk being seen here,” she stuttered. “Suppose you should get caught. S-surely a man of your stature cannot risk such a thing.”

  He raised a brow.

  “What do you know of my stature?” he asked.

  Blast. She’d slipped up again.

  “N-nothing. But, well, I just assumed—“

  “There you go with those assumptions,” he said smoothly. “No need to worry yourself about it, in any case. The problem will be mine to deal with, should anything go awry.”

  Oh, but he was exasperating.

  “But why?” she wailed.

  He was once again ruining everything.

  “As to that, I cannot tell you. I only wish I knew myself,” he muttered as much to himself as to her. “But, here I am. Unwilling to allow you to be caught or put into any sort of danger.”

  It was a peculiar thing, Evelyn thought as she rubbed at a sudden headache, being jealous of oneself.

  Clearly, Lord Ashdon cared a great deal about the highwaywoman she was. And yet, he had kissed her to, so intensely this morning in the gardens.

  What a brute!

  Well, she would never allow him to kiss her again, and that was that.

  Even though he didn’t know who she currently was, he had known perfectly well who she was this morning, and he had no business getting himself embroiled with some woman now. The logical part of her brain tried to remind her that she was the some woman, but she had no interest in that.

  The point was that he didn’t know who she was…

  The thought brought Evelyn up short.

  He didn’t know who she was!

  Evelyn Spencer, lady of quality, good, well-behaved, docile miss couldn’t allow a rakish lord any liberties.

  But a mysterious, masked female who lived outside the law? Well, couldn’t she do just about anything she wanted?

  Her mouth curled into a slow grin as the possibilities flitted through her mind. This could be rather wonderful. Perhaps being a highway robber for a little longer wouldn’t be so bad after all.

  Before she could speak a word to him, however, the carriage that they had heard approaching suddenly came into view.

  Evelyn felt her palms grow clammy beneath her gloves.

  She’d had no qualms about robbing her uncle; that was a necessity if she was to get justice for her father.

  But innocent people? It seemed so callous.

  Evelyn reminded herself that this was going to be nothing but a fake robbery; she would return whatever she stole tonight to its rightful owner, albeit through the church. She had it all planned out. She would leave a note of apology along with the stolen items in the vestry tomorrow. And though she would still feel simply awful for causing any distress to her neighbours and friends, it did help soothe her guilt that she wouldn’t be keeping their belongings. It was small comfort to be sure, but she’d take anything she could get!

  “They’re going to pass you by if you don’t make haste,” Ashdon helpfully piped up.

  Evelyn gritted her teeth once more before ignoring him altogether.

  Taking a deep breath, she moved Midnight onto the road.

  “Stand and deliver,” she shouted, her voice mercifully squeak-free this time.

  The carriage, a much smaller affair than her uncle’s conveyance the night before, shuddered to a halt, the matching pair of horses prancing nervously at the sudden interruption.

  Evelyn squinted through the darkness to see if she could recognise whose coach it was.

  This was a rather small village, and she knew all of its occupants.

  As her eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness of the carriage lanterns, Evelyn felt her stomach drop all the way to her borrowed boots.

  Throwing a beseeching look toward heaven, she did have to wonder how she’d been so wicked in her life as to find herself committing her second non-robbery against the village magistrate.

  Andrew shouldn’t laugh. He really shouldn’t. And he certainly shouldn’t allow this continue. He was an agent of the Crown. Wasn’t it his job to stop criminals in their tracks, rather than encourage them?

  He couldn’t help it though.

  Every second he spent with this mystery lady, it became glaringly obvious that she was no more a highwaywoman than he.

  He was fascinated by
her. Who was she, and why on earth was she playing pretend with such a dangerous game?

  When the occupants of the carriage slowly lumbered out, it was all he could do to smother his bark of laughter.

  She’d only gone and held up the magistrate.

  Andrew had met the rotund and jolly man and his equally rotund and jolly wife when they’d come to call and pay their respects to the new lord in town, such as he was. A sweeter pair you couldn’t find anywhere.

  He watched as the lady robber visibly stiffened in her saddle. Hmm. So she recognised the magistrate. Which meant she was local. Curious.

  As he watched the spectacle unfold before him, he thought about the curious pull he felt toward her and how captivating she was. It was most unusual, since all he could see of her were her admittedly delectable-looking mouth and her eyes.

  Her eyes.

  That was it! They reminded him of Eve’s.

  At the memory of the young lady who’d been occupying far too many of his thoughts, he felt a surge of guilt, which was as inexplicable as it was ridiculous. Why should he feel guilty? Yes he’d kissed her, but she’d started it! And he hadn’t done anything with Miss Mystery over there.

  And even if he had, he’d made no promises to Evelyn Spencer, and she wanted none. She didn’t even like him, most of the time. Although that kiss would suggest otherwise, would it not?

  Andrew’s head began to hurt. What had become of him? Obsessing about two women, both hiding something, both with distractingly beautiful eyes. Though in fairness, every inch of Evelyn Spencer was beautiful, and though something told him the same was true of Miss Mystery, he didn’t know that for sure.

  Not only that, but his attraction to them both went far beyond physical. It was their wit, their erratic behaviour — even their snippiness — that drew him to them both. He never thought he’d see the day where a lady’s looks were so unimportant, and now there were two of them to contend with.

  Andrew shook his head and berated himself internally. He had no time for this nonsense. He needed to pay attention to the most farcical robbery he’d ever seen and make sure that the lady didn’t do anything stupid, or get hurt, or both.

  “Now see here,” the magistrate, a Mr. Carter was blustering fiercely, “what is the meaning of all this? You cannot conduct yourself in such a fashion. It is absurd. My poor wife is most overset.”

  Andrew glanced at Mrs. Carter, who was looking gleefully from her husband to the highwaywoman, her mouth open in fascination. The lady was having a grand old time and was, no doubt, itching for the whole thing to be concluded so she could gossip to all her friends about it.

  “I apologise, sir,” Miss Mystery was saying, sounding genuinely contrite, which was madness, “but I really must insist. If you will empty your pockets, we can all be on our way.”

  “Indeed I shall not,” Mr. Carter retorted stubbornly, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “For God’s sake,” Andrew heard her mutter, and he couldn’t suppress his grin at her irritation. “I don’t have time for this,” she continued. “Empty your pockets, or I’ll put a bullet in you.”

  Andrew raised a brow and watched with interest as poor Mr. Carter visibly paled, and Mrs. Carter clapped her hands.

  “It’s all so exciting,” she whispered loud enough for even him to hear.

  “Mary, please, contain yourself.”

  “Do not snipe at me, Harold. Just because you’ve been scared witless by the young man.”

  “I have not been scared witless. You always do this. You always make situations worse with your ridiculous notions.”

  The lady muttered a few more choice words at the exchange between the bickering couple.

  Andrew shook his head in amazement at the whole spectacle.

  It was truly peculiar. The whole lot of them belonged in Bedlam.

  And he’d probably end up there with them.

  “Stop bloody fighting!” Miss Mystery suddenly shouted at the still arguing couple, and they both yelped in fright and spun back to face her.

  “How dare you, you insolent boy!” Mr. Carter bellowed.

  He thought she was a young boy? The man was blind.

  This could go on for hours, and Andrew needed to get back to the manor before anyone noticed he was gone.

  “Sir, I am losing patience.” There was a steely note to her voice now that hadn’t been there before, and for the first time, Andrew felt like she had a real strength inside of her. “Hand over your belongings and be on your way while you still have the chance.”

  The Carters must have heard the same tone that he had because, without further argument, but an awful lot of complaining, they handed over a coin purse and Mrs. Carter’s jewellery.

  “Now, back in your carriage and on your way,” she instructed, and mercifully, they did as they were bid.

  She moved her horse back to stand beside Andrew’s, and they both watched the carriage disappear into the distance in silence.

  “So,” he said after a moment, “you really are a highway robber.”

  She turned to him with such a wicked grin that his heart nearly stopped.

  “But of course,” she said to his utter amazement, and, for the second time that day, he found his head grabbed and pulled forward and his mouth thoroughly kissed.

  CHAPTER TEN

  “Bloody, silly, stupid bag.”

  Evelyn was aware that her swearing had significantly increased in the last few days, and she really should do something about it.

  But her jovial mood was fast turning into the complete opposite.

  She had floated home on a cloud of joy in the early hours of the morning.

  Her kiss with Lord Ashdon had been wicked and intense and wonderful. She’d been able to throw her whole self into that kiss, since the mask had given her the opportunity to be whomever she chose.

  There was something mischievously seductive about hiding her identity, about the cover of darkness and the anonymity of a disguise.

  Evelyn Spencer couldn’t go around throwing herself at men, though some madness had possessed her to yesterday. But, in the general way of things, it wasn’t how a lady conducted herself.

  A criminal unencumbered by the rules of Society, however, was a different matter altogether.

  Lord Ashdon hadn’t reacted in quite as strong a way to last night’s kiss as he had the morning’s, but she put that down to shock, and, to be fair, it was rather more difficult on a horse.

  She’d gotten little to no sleep last night since she’d been out much later than intended.

  It had been imperative that she give him time to get back to the manor house and into his bed before she made her return, and so it was very close to dawn when she arrived back. She couldn’t risk any of the downstairs maids seeing her come in with her haul.

  Thankfully, there was an tiny rundown cottage on the very outskirts of the property that nobody ever went near, and Evelyn had managed to hide the bag in a gap between the stone wall and thatched roof by standing on Midnight and praying with all her might that the animal didn’t move suddenly.

  Thankfully, she’d gotten down in one piece, but that had still left the problem of her clothing. So she’d stripped off the hat, mask, and boots and kept the cloak snug around her. It was the best she could do, and, for once, luck had been on her side, and she’d gotten into her bedchamber unseen.

  Her conscience, irritating little thing that it was, however, had barely allowed her to sleep. She couldn’t stop thinking of the Carters’ distraught faces as they handed over their possessions.

  So, as soon as Molly had entered with her chocolate, Evelyn had leapt from the bed and thrown on the first gown she could find before dashing from the room, calling instructions not to breathe a word to anyone.

  She was relying on Molly’s fierce loyalty to keep the young maid quiet.

  And now, here she was, having dragged half-chopped logs and anything else she could find over to the wall of the cottage to try to form some s
ort of ladder for her to climb.

  It wasn’t going well.

  Evelyn huffed out a breath and impatiently pushed her unruly hair back from her brow before preparing to take another shot and somehow get up that wall.

  She needed that bag. She wanted to return the goods to the church as fast as she possibly could. The weight of her guilt was a heavy burden.

  “Ah, we meet again, my Eve.”

  Evelyn whirled round at the sound of Lord Ashdon’s voice behind her.

  How could he look so well after so little sleep? It was most unfair.

  Memories of their kisses, of her forward manner, of his witnessing her unforgiveable behaviour in robbing the Carters flooded her mind, and Evelyn knew her cheeks must be fairly glowing with her embarrassment.

  “G-good morning, my lord,” she spoke to that handy cravat of his again.

  “Haven’t we moved passed the formality of my lord?” he asked as he stepped closer.

  She didn’t know how to respond so stayed quiet.

  “Call me Andrew,” he said softly, and her eyes flew to his.

  “What? No! I couldn’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “B-because, it isn’t proper, my lord,” she stuttered. The irony of a woman who was just now trying to rescue a bag of things she’d stolen the night before and had kissed this man twice already being worried about propriety wasn’t lost on Evelyn, but still. She couldn’t go throwing all of her standards away.

  “Eve, we—“

  “Don’t call me that,” she said fiercely. It was far too intimate. It made her want to throw herself into his arms, and, well, she’d already done that. He’d start to think her a wanton if she continued in such a fashion.

  “Anyway, don’t let me keep you from your walk, my lord. Good day to you.”

  Evelyn turned her back and listened for the sounds of his retreat.

  There was silence.

  I’m not turning back around, she thought mutinously.

  “So…” His voice sounded in her ear, and she leapt in fright before spinning to face him once again. “What’s so fascinating about this rundown little shack then?”

  Evelyn gritted her teeth until she could be sure her tone wouldn’t be similar to that of an angry fishwife.