No Other Love

by Candace Camp

  Lambeth, who had had a few encounters of his own with his fiancé’s feisty nature, knew that Sebastian’s words applied to Marianne almost as much as to Thorpe’s headstrong American wife.

  “Wait!” Sebastian said softly, straightening a little. “The door is opening. Yes, it is they.” He watched his wife emerge, glancing around her, and he smiled to himself. Even in the dim light cast by the lantern the gaoler carried, he could see the excitement in her face. She was utterly beautiful, and she was having a grand time. He wondered if she had the least notion what fear felt like. He had never seen it in her. And he was certain that there was no man as lucky as he.

  “They are walking away,” he continued in a whisper. “They’re going around the corner.” He waited, his muscles tensing, giving them an extra allowance of time, just in case the gaoler took it into his head to come back for some reason. Mentally he counted to ten. He could sense Lambeth’s rising tension behind him. “All right. Let’s go.”

  The two men eased around the corner, using no light, their eyes well accustomed to the darkness. They moved lightly and quickly, concealed by their dark clothes and masks. They reached the door to the gaol and went inside. A lamp still burned in the lobby of the gaol, and by its light they could see the gaoler’s desk, on which lay the great ring of keys.

  “Good girls.” Justin’s lips curved up in a smile as he crossed the room and grabbed the ring. Sebastian took the lamp to light their way.

  With Sebastian close behind him, Justin unlocked the door in the opposite wall and stepped into the corridor beyond. It was a narrow corridor, not very long, and it was lined on either side with cells, each of them with a barred door, locked securely. They went to the first door and looked in. Two men lay on narrow cots in the small, primitive cell. Justin felt a sympathetic shudder run through him at the thought of being shut up in this little room.

  He took the key ring and tried first one key in the door, then another, until he found one that fit. By the time the lock turned and he swung the door open, the men were standing looking at them. “Who are you?” one of the occupants asked in tones as cultured as Justin’s own voice. “What are you doing?”

  “Letting you out. If I were you, I wouldn’t ask questions.”

  “Indeed not,” the other man agreed, seeing the sense of this suggestion. He came out into the corridor, followed by his companion. Justin opened the next door with the same key. Two men emerged from it, rubbing their faces sleepily and looking dumbfounded.

  “Wot’s goin’ on, Per?” one asked, turning toward the occupants of the first cell.

  “It appears we are being released,” Perry replied, still watching Justin and Lambeth as they moved down the row.

  The third door opened to reveal the first face that looked familiar to Justin and Sebastian: the tall, dark-haired highwayman who had helped each of them at different times.

  “Who the devil are you?” he asked suspiciously.

  “Looking a gift horse in the mouth, are we?” Justin retorted lightly. “I think it is best if we do not bandy names about. Suffice it to say that I am someone whom you once helped out of a rather sticky situation in a mine.” He nodded toward Sebastian, who smiled and tipped his hat. “And he has reason to wish you well, too. You gave him and his lady shelter one night.”

  Jack’s eyebrows rose. “The devil you say.” He looked at Sebastian and grinned. “The balloonists? Well, I guess that good deeds really do come back to one.”

  “They might have come back sooner if you had not lightened my pocket before you left,” Sebastian reminded him grimly.

  Jack laughed. “Aye, so I did. Sorry, sir. Sometimes I have a little difficulty controlling my impulses.”

  As Justin opened the last two cell doors, Jack strode to the end of the corridor and peered out into the empty lobby. “Took care of the gaoler as well, did you?”

  “For the moment,” Sebastian replied. “But we need to make haste before he returns.”

  “We shall. Come on, men.”

  Jack started across the room, but Sebastian called out. “Wait.” He hurried to catch up with him. “We have something more of a plan than just releasing you into the night. There are horses waiting. Follow us.”

  Jack looked at him for a moment, then glanced toward Lambeth. He shrugged. “Lead on. I suppose we have little choice except to trust you.”

  “Quite right.” Sebastian threw open the door and gave a quick look outside, then stepped out into the street, motioning to the others.

  They ran down the street toward the alley. Sebastian rounded the corner followed by Jack’s men, with Jack and Lord Lambeth in the rear. Just as the last of them were almost to the corner of the building, there was a loud cry from behind them. Justin muttered a curse and grabbed Jack’s arm just as a pistol shot rang out.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  AS THEY LEFT THE GAOL, ALEXANDRA COULD not resist a quick look around, but she saw no sign of her husband or Justin. Marianne, more accustomed to carrying out a charade, did not even glance about, merely tucked her arm more tightly into the gaoler’s and strode along briskly, chattering all the while like a vacant-headed, frightened female. They whisked the gaoler around the corner of the building and down the street to the edge of town, where their horse and gig stood waiting.

  “You see?” Alexandra cried as they approached the vehicle. “We are in the ditch! We were almost killed!”

  She dragged the man around to the ditch side of the gig to point out their wheel resting on nothing but air, while Marianne slipped over to the other side and unobtrusively kicked away the rock that they had placed under the wheel to stabilize it. The gaoler examined the gig, distracted by the increasingly hysterical Alexandra. It would have been an easy problem to fix, requiring only that one of them lead the horse away from the ditch; at worst, the gaoler might have had to add his shoulder to pushing the gig forward until the wheel found purchase. However, the two women managed, with their constant chatter and cries and occasional bouts of tears, to make the procedure take twice as long as it should have.

  When at last the gaoler got the gig several feet away from the ditch, Alexandra collapsed into grateful tears, seizing the gaoler’s rough hand and declaring over and over that he had saved her life. She found, a little to her surprise, that the tears came quite easily, for worry and fear for Sebastian gnawed at her beneath her flamboyant performance. Had they gotten into the gaol without incident? Had they had enough time to release the prisoners? What if they had been delayed, and when the gaoler went back to his post, he walked right in on the escape attempt?

  The gaoler started back to the gaol, and the two women went along, doing their best to delay him. They were not sure how long it had taken the men to enter the gaol after they left or how much time they needed to unlock and empty the cells. It would be disastrous if they let the gaoler return to the place too soon. As it was, just as the three of them rounded the corner of the gaol, they saw the last of the prisoners emerge from the front door and dash down the street.

  The gaoler gaped at the sight for a moment before he realized what was going on. Then he let out a roar, pulled a pistol from his waistband, raised and fired. One of the men staggered, but kept on running, rounding the corner of the building and disappearing down the alleyway. The gaoler started to go after the men. Marianne and Alexandra shrieked and threw themselves against him, holding fast to his arms.

  “The prisoners escaped!” he said excitedly. “I got to catch ’em!” He paused and looked down the dark alleyway, then added uncertainly, “Yeah, I’d better go after them.”

  “No! You might get injured!” Alexandra cried. “They could wait lurking at the end of the alleyway and attack you, several against one, and you have already shot your pistol.”

  “That is right,” Marianne added. “I know that the danger to yourself would not stop you, but think about us. You mustn’t leave us alone. What if they came back to get us? What if there are more of them inside the gaol, waiting to
murder us?”

  The gaoler looked at the two women, then down the long, dark alley. “It would be wrong to leave you two ladies unprotected….” he agreed thoughtfully.

  Marianne suppressed a grin. “That’s right. And Lord Lambeth will be ever so grateful to you for staying with us instead of chasing after those criminals, as I am sure you would like to do. It takes a man of true courage to remain at his post and do his duty when all his instinct urges him to follow those dangerous men—no doubt armed to the teeth—through the dark night. To catch them and fight them, risking life and limb—I understand that that is what you long to do.”

  The gaoler swallowed, mumbling, “Er…yes, I guess I do.”

  “But to stay here with us instead!” Alexandra exclaimed. “That is the action of a truly courageous and honorable man.”

  The gaoler raised his head, sticking his jaw out manfully. “You’re right, my lady. I cannot follow me heart. I must stay here and protect you.”

  Looking noble, he turned and strode back down the street to the gaol. The door stood open, and they walked cautiously inside, looking around. The front room looked just as it had when they left it, except that an empty space occupied the portion of the desk where the large ring of keys had lain earlier. The gaoler walked through the room and into the corridor beyond, where the row of cells lay, with Marianne and Alexandra right on his heels. They relaxed with sighs of relief when a glance down the short corridor revealed only empty cells, the barred doors hanging open. The ring of keys still hung in the last of the cells.

  The gaoler looked at the key ring with a thunderstruck expression. “My keys!” His hand went instinctively to his belt, but the keys that usually hung there were gone. “They opened them with my keys! But how—”

  “You mean you left your keys here?” Marianne exclaimed, turning to him with a haughty expression worthy of a future duchess. “Sitting out there where anyone could get them? How could you be so careless?”

  “But I—you—” the man sputtered, looking from one woman to the other, trying to recall exactly how it had happened that he had left his keys behind.

  “That’s all right,” Alexandra reassured him. “We shall tell the magistrate what a splendid job you did. After all, you kept us safe, despite all these lurking highwaymen. Lord Thorpe, I know, will be very grateful to you.”

  “You know,” Marianne added confidentially, coming down from her lady-of-the-manor pose, “I think this was all a plot.”

  “A plot?” the gaoler repeated stupidly.

  “Exactly. Those highwaymen stopped us not to rob us but to get us to do precisely what we did—come running to you! Where else would we have gone for aid? Of course we came here, and when you so bravely went to help us, they were no doubt lurking about outside and sneaked in to free their compatriots. There must be many more of them than anyone realized.”

  The gaoler looked much struck by this thought. “You’re right…there must be. Why, it’d take several men to risk breaking into the gaol.”

  “Especially given the fact that you are guarding it,” Alexandra put in admiringly. “After all, they could not count on our distracting you. Why, we might not have even come here at all! Then they would have had to face you. I imagine there must have been—oh, four or five of them, at least.”

  “At least,” Marianne agreed. “Maybe even more.” The gaoler nodded. “You’re right. It must have been a great gang of men. There’s no telling how many of those scoundrels are still around here.”

  “Six or seven,” Alexandra added.

  “I suppose I should go after them….” the gaoler said, somewhat less than enthusiastically.

  “By yourself?” Marianne looked shocked. “You are a brave man, indeed, but I really do not think you should. Why, think how many of them there are—the ones who rescued them, the ones who were here in jail—why you yourself said it must be a large gang. And they are bound to have guns, too.”

  “Yes, if they came to get their friends out of gaol. Certainly they are armed…to the teeth. Perhaps you should go to the constable.”

  “Oh, aye!” The gaoler’s face cleared. “The constable must be told first. And the magistrate. Lord Exmoor…” His face took on a troubled expression at that thought.

  “The magistrate will go to tell Exmoor, I am sure, considering what an important man Lord Exmoor is,” Alexandra reassured him.

  “You’re right. It will be up to Squire Halsey.” That thought seemed to afford him some relief. “Well, I had best be going out to the Squire’s house to tell him now.”

  “Absolutely. And we must go home,” Marianne said. “Lord Lambeth and Lord Thorpe will be worried about us. We are already dreadfully late for our dinner party.”

  They slipped away before the gaoler could recover his wits enough to recall that they should wait and lodge a complaint with the magistrate about the supposed attack on them this evening. They hurried back to the gig, Alexandra rebuttoning the top buttons of her dress and twisting her hair back into some semblance of a knot as they strode along. Marianne, too, reached back beneath her cloak to unpin her bodice, drawing a huge breath of relief as the dress loosened about her chest.

  “Do you think they’re all right?” she asked Alexandra as they climbed into the gig. “Did the gaoler hit anyone when he fired?”

  “It looked to me as though he did. One man jerked and hesitated, I thought, but I could not tell who it was. They were too far away, and they were all dressed alike. Dark hats, masks…”

  “I know.” Marianne looked over at her anxiously. “It could have been Justin or Sebastian who was hit.”

  “Don’t think that way. Anyway, whoever it was, it can’t have been too bad a wound. He continued to run.”

  “Still, let’s get home as fast as we can. I want to see Justin.”

  Alexandra nodded; she, too, felt the cold grip of fear in her stomach. She slapped the reins sharply, and the horse started off.

  JUSTIN JERKED AS THE BALL FROM THE pistol seared across his upper arm. He staggered briefly, but recovered and continued to run. The men raced down the narrow alleyway, Sebastian in the lead, until they emerged on another quiet street. They ran down the street, making as little noise as they could, and turned into a narrow lane. Sebastian slowed to a walk now, and the others followed suit. Jack glanced over his shoulder, wondering why the gaoler was so slow in pursuing them.

  “Don’t worry about the gaoler,” Justin said in a low voice. “The girls will take care of him.”

  “The girls?” Jack cast him a curious look.

  “Yes. You met one of them with me not too many weeks ago.”

  “The redheaded beauty?” Jack asked in amazement.

  “The same. She is soon to be my wife.” He fixed the highwayman with a hard look.

  Jack chuckled. “Ah, I see. So I am not to notice her beauty anymore?”

  Justin smiled. “I imagine that would be too much to ask. Anyway, she has a sister who is almost as lovely as she, and the two of them, um, shall we say—distracted the good gaoler.”

  Jack’s brows rose. “But—isn’t that rather dangerous?”

  Justin’s smile broadened. “I am afraid it would have been even more dangerous for me had I refused to let her play a part. I am afraid that you will find out that there are certain women who won’t be dictated to.”

  Jack grimaced. “I have already discovered that, thank you.”

  Justin chuckled. “I dare swear you have.”

  “Were you hit? I heard a pistol.”

  At these words, Sebastian turned and looked at them. “Lambeth? You were hit?”

  “Just a scratch,” Justin assured them. “It didn’t go into my arm. Stings like the devil, but I’ll be all right.”

  They were approaching a large, spreading oak tree, and now they could make out a dark clump of shapes beneath it, which resolved as they drew closer into several horses. Jack realized with some astonishment that they were waiting for him and his men. At second glance he sa
w that they were his own horses, “liberated” earlier that evening from the village stables. He looked at the masked man beside him, scarcely able to believe that this nobleman, who was virtually a stranger to him, would do so much to ensure his freedom.

  Sebastian turned toward the others and said, “We are going to divide up. It will make you harder to find. Jack, you come with us.” He turned to Perry. “You take the others and ride as hard and as fast as you can for Exeter. I have sent instructions to someone I know there to help you into hiding. He’ll do a good job. Just go to the Blue Boar Tavern and ask for Murdock. You should have a good hours’ head start, at least. And unless I miss my guess, the authorities will not be chasing you. They will be after him.” He nodded toward Jack.

  “Wait…” Jack began, annoyed at this assumption of command over his own men.

  “What? Do you want to go with them? It will ensure that they will be pursued. You know as well as I that Exmoor wants only you. The rest he really doesn’t care about.”

  Jack hesitated. He could see the sense in what the man said, and he certainly was not going to endanger his men just because he did not like having his authority usurped. Still…“But how will they know that I am not with them?”

  “Oh, I think they will know exactly where to look to find you,” Justin drawled. “I doubt Richard will even bother with tracking us.”

  “Come on, man,” Sebastian said. “We are wasting time. Which is it to be?”

  “Perry, do as he said,” Jack replied. He had some doubts about this whole bizarre rescue, but he knew that the most important thing was that Perry and the others not suffer for his decision to seek revenge against the Earl of Exmoor.

  AS THEY REACHED THE HORSES, JACK saw that there was a lad, clad in a dark jacket and with a dark cap pulled low on his face, who stood with the horses, holding their reins. Quickly the lad began handing the reins to Perry and the others. After a quick consultation with Sebastian, Perry and the other men mounted and took off. Justin took the reins of the three remaining horses from the stable lad and handed one set to Jack.