Bronwyn Scott's Sexy Regency Bundle

by Bronwyn Scott

  One man moved and Paine stabbed with his knife. The man danced away. The other one feinted, drawing Paine’s attention. Julia bit her knuckles. This could go on for ever and, if it did, Paine would come out the loser.

  Julia glanced around and picked up some rocks, an idea taking shape. Decisively, she ripped the silk gown, tearing it above her knees. Now she could run and, now, thanks to summers spent roaming the estate with Cousin Gray, she had a weapon.

  Julia crept quietly to the edge of the trees, careful to stay hidden so that a flash of colour from her vibrant gown didn’t give her away. She was close enough to recognise one of the men as the man from the club and close enough to hear the ragged banter exchanged between the men and Paine.

  ‘What do you want with me that would be worth dying for? I’ll get one of you before you get me,’ Paine argued, invoking his wit as a weapon.

  ‘We want the chit with the cinnamon hair. You have her. The boss wants her. The boss owns her. We’ve come to reclaim stolen property.’ The big man’s tone was menacing.

  ‘I don’t have her. You can check the coach, but there’s nothing inside except my dead coachman,’ Paine replied.

  Julia blanched at the news, thinking of the bullet that had pierced the side of the coach. The men confronting Paine were not bothered by the results of their errant bullet. ‘That bullet was for you, Ramsden. If you’d been where you were supposed to be, this would all be over now.’ The smaller of the two men lunged for Paine, opposite side to the hand that held the knife.

  Julia fought back a gasp. It would be difficult for Paine to reach across his body and make an effective effort with his weapon. Instead, Paine kicked out with his leg in a fluid movement Julia had never seen before. The sweep of his leg caught the man at the knees and brought him to the ground. Quickly, before the last man could react, Paine delivered a sharp jab to the downed man’s abdomen, rendering him temporarily useless.

  But Paine wobbled as he spun to face the last man and the man saw it for what it was—weakness that would only grow with time. He had only to wait and he would be victorious. He’d used his comrades and their failures to take Paine’s measure. He’d seen Paine’s arsenal of wit and strange, foreign moves. Now Paine was exposed.

  He charged Paine like a bull, head down and fast for a man so large. His head caught Paine in mid-torso, the impact taking Paine to the hard ground and causing the knife hand to release its grip. The knife spun out of reach on the road.

  Julia went into action, loading one of her stones into the hastily fashioned sling from her torn dress. She could hear the grunts and yells of the men’s fight, Paine taking the brunt of it in his weakened state.

  She had more rocks at her disposal but her first shot would be her best shot, full of surprise. She edged closer to give herself better range. The man reared up over Paine, giving her a clear target without the risk of hitting Paine instead. Julia cocked the sling and called out, using her voice as an additional distraction. It worked. The man kept his head up, glancing about to find the source of the sound. With dead-set determination, Julia fired the sling. The stone found purchase in the centre of his forehead. He slumped forwards.

  Paine oomphed at taking the burden of the heavy weight and shoved at him, quickly gaining his feet, then looked around warily for the unexpected assistance. Julia rose up out of the brush and strode towards him. ‘Paine!’ She ran the last of the short distance.

  ‘You? It was you?’ Paine asked, his expression inscrutable, taking in the pink sling dangling in Julia’s hand.

  ‘Don’t be mad. I looked back and saw those four men coming after you. I couldn’t let you face them alone.’ The words came out in a rush.

  ‘Shh, Julia.’ Paine’s face cracked into a smile in spite of the bruises it had sustained. ‘I’m not mad. I’m amazed. I am sure Madame Broussard would be. I’m not certain she ever envisioned her precious satin being used in such a manner.’ Paine took the sling from her hand and held it up, saying with an amount of jocularity, ‘Yes, I think this just might be the most expensive sling shot in the world.’

  ‘Well, it won’t last for ever. Let’s get going.’ Julia insisted, tugging at Paine’s hand. The scene of such violence was starting to unnerve her.

  ‘Wait, Julia, there’s time for this.’ Paine pulled her back to him and kissed her hard on the mouth. ‘I was never so glad to see someone as I was to see you come out of the woods, striding like an avenging tree nymph,’ he whispered. ‘I do believe you saved me today.’

  ‘And I will continue to do so,’ Julia said with a bravado she didn’t feel. She trembled, fighting back the shock that threatened to settle over her now that the ordeal was done. But Paine still needed her. ‘Sit down and let me tend that wound. It’s a nasty gash, Paine. I don’t like how it’s bleeding.’

  Paine sat on the carriage step without complaint. It worried Julia that he’d given into her request so easily. Part of her had hoped he’d protest, declaring the wound only a ‘scratch’. But anyone could see it was more than a scratch.

  Julia bit her lip and gingerly probed the cut through the slashed fabric, wishing she had some medical skill, but beyond a few instances of cleaning up minor hunting accidents, she was vague on what should be done. Well, she would make do with what she knew and rely on common sense for the rest, she told herself steadfastly.

  Fortunately, there was water in the coach from the last coaching inn where they’d taken on some provisions. Julia tore the tails of Paine’s shirt to make a rag and some spare wadding. She poured water in the rag and sponged the affected area.

  ‘Wounds always look better after they’re cleaned.’ Paine said, far too cheerily.

  ‘Hmm,’ Julia answered noncommittally. She wished she could agree. The wound did look cleaner, but it also looked more vivid. The bleeding seemed to slow. As long as the bleeding stopped, she could bind the arm. Otherwise, the blood would make the bandage sticky and hard to remove, not to mention painful. She took the second length of cloth and began to bind his arm.

  ‘Ouch!’ Paine winced as she pulled the cloth tight.

  ‘If it’s not tight, the binding won’t do any good.’ Julia said firmly, tying a knot high on his upper arm. ‘That should hold. At least the fabric will keep the wound clean between now and reaching Dursley.’

  Julia stood up, breathing deeply to steady herself. The sight of gaping skin was not one to which she was accustomed. Lord willing, it would never be a sight she would count in her repertoire of regular experiences.

  She turned her attention to the coach and the horses and the carnage around them. The remaining men were still out cold, but it had been a while. ‘Paine, will they wake up soon?’

  Paine grimaced. ‘Get a shirt from the valise. We’ll rip it into shreds and bind them. It won’t prevent them from following, but it might slow them down.’

  Julia followed the instructions, nervously watching while Paine toed one of the unconscious men in the stomach. There was no reaction. With Paine’s injured arm useless, it was up to Julia to bind the men’s arms and legs.

  She stared at them and then at Paine. He’d risen and was trying to mount the driver’s bench. It took him three awkward tries to pull himself up with one arm. She made a quick decision, one he wouldn’t like. But there was no choice.

  Julia scrambled up beside him and picked up the reins he was struggling to grasp in his good hand. ‘I’ll take those. You’re in no shape to drive the coach.’

  ‘We’re not walking to Dursley,’ Paine retorted.

  ‘No, we’re not walking, you stubborn man. I’m driving,’ Julia informed him of the decision she’d made.

  Paine snorted. ‘You don’t know how to drive a coach and four.’

  Julia looked straight ahead down the empty road, her tone determined. ‘No, I don’t. But I think this is the perfect time to learn. I do have some experience with a pair. Now, this rein here—I take it this is for the lead horse?’

  ‘Julia…’ Paine protested.
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  ‘Paine, you can’t drive and we must continue. You can’t be so dense as to ignore the realities of our situation. If we stay here, we’re literally sitting ducks. Any mile we make it towards Dursley is a mile closer to safety and whatever help your brother can offer,’ Julia argued. But Paine didn’t like being weak or being bossed about.

  She softened her tone and tried a different tack. ‘I thought you were magnificent today.’ She leaned closer and managed a kiss without falling off the narrow seat. ‘You did your part today to keep us safe. Let me do mine.’

  ‘Well,’ Paine said reluctantly, ‘if you insist. I’ll let you drive.’

  Julia doggedly gripped the reins that separated the narrow box seat from the ground several feet below. Her shoulders and arms ached from the strain. She needed all her strength to keep the team of four on the road as the coach bounced towards Dursley Hall. They had conquered Oswalt’s men, managing to subdue them. Once they recovered they would have to spend precious time regrouping, redrafting their plans. It was unlikely Oswalt’s men would catch up to them before they reached Dursley Hall. But that victory had been accomplished at a great price.

  The coachman lay dead in the carriage and Paine was wounded. The cut must be a burning torture on this rutted road. Beside her, grim-lipped and pale, Paine had his eyes fixed on the road before them, watching for any sign of trouble as a way of staying alert.

  A man dead and another wounded. All because of her. Julia could not overlook the facts. Her mad scheme to elude Oswalt had led directly to the coachman’s death. She had meant to be smart in outwitting Oswalt’s perverse desire for a virgin bride. At the outset, she’d honestly believed she was only risking herself. The falsity of that belief had been made painfully clear to her today.

  ‘Are we still clear?’ Julia asked, trying to make conversation, fearing Paine might lapse into unconsciousness if she didn’t keep him engaged.

  Next to her, Paine dared a glance backwards, checking to see if Oswalt’s men had caught up and were even now darting out of the woods that lined the road.

  ‘Nothing. We’re safe,’ he breathed.

  ‘How much farther?’ she asked. It seemed she’d been driving for ever. Time had become meaningless. Darkness would settle shortly and she feared that the most. If they were far enough from Dursley Hall, perhaps Oswalt’s men were waiting for the light to fail. In the dark, she and Paine would be hard pressed to out-manoeuvre them again.

  ‘Just two miles.’ Paine grimaced, turning paler than he had been. ‘Julia, listen to me, there’ll be a turn in the road, it marks the entrance to the Dursley parkland. Turn and then head straight, the road will lead you to the hall.’

  Just two miles. Julia said the words over in her head like a Catholic litany. They had to be the longest two miles she’d ever travelled. Then, just when she thought they were safe, five riders loomed in front of them as they neared the turn in the road.

  Five magnificent dark horses spanned the road like a barricade. Julia felt her panic rise. She would never make the turn or be able to crash through them and remain unscathed. Her skill was only hours old. Julia fought back her terror, but she couldn’t refrain from the scream that bubbled up in her throat.

  Paine laughed beside her in spite of his injury and weariness. ‘Don’t be frightened, Julia love, it’s merely my brother. We’re safe now.’

  Julia’s fear turned to relief. At last, she could lay down her burden. She pulled the carriage to a halt with the last of her arms’ strength.

  A black-haired man rode up and smiled up at Paine.

  ‘Welcome home, little brother. Somehow I am not surprised you’ve returned with a beautiful woman at your side and the hounds of hell at your heels.’

  ‘Crispin—’ Paine’s voice was full of emotion, although he couldn’t speak more than the one word.

  ‘He’s hurt,’ Julia broke in, eager to get Paine off the road and to see the journey completed. ‘I can drive the team well enough if you can manage the leader on the turn.’

  ‘Where’s Peyton?’ Paine managed.

  ‘Waiting for you at the house with Cousin Beth.’ The brother called Crispin tossed the words over his shoulder as he edged his horse up to the where the leader stood, blowing hard after the run. ‘No more questions until we get you settled. The lady’s given her orders,’ he joked, but Julia thought she sensed worry in his voice.

  Paine did look quite awful with his myriad cuts and bruises, the ragged bandage on his wounded arm showed signs of new bleeding—bright red blood still damp to the touch. Remnants of their encounter on the road and two days of unending travelling had worked great changes in Paine’s appearance. No one would guess the man beside her had been turned out with sartorial elegance two nights prior.

  Julia knew without the benefit of a looking glass that she appeared no better than Paine. The expensive silk was ripped and stained beyond repair. Her hair hung tangled and matted from wind. But just as she knew how awful the pair of them appeared, she knew his brothers wouldn’t care. There’d been abject devotion in Crispin’s eyes and underneath his teasing words of welcome.

  Beside her, Paine tried to slip off to sleep or into unconsciousness—she couldn’t tell which. She elbowed him gently. ‘Don’t you leave me now. Your brother will never forgive me if you arrive asleep after a twelve-year absence.’

  ‘How do you know?’ Paine mumbled, his speech slurred with exhaustion.

  ‘Because he’s coming down the lane right now,’ Julia said, unable to hide the smile from her voice. Crispin had led them around a bend in the road and the house came into view as they gained the drive. Two figures stood on the wide steps, dark in the fading light. At the sight of them, one of them started moving.

  Nearing the figure, Julia could see he was running, a swift, athletic sprint. When he was close enough he called out, ‘Crispin, is it them? Paine? Paine? Is it you?’

  The voice roused Paine. ‘Julia, stop the carriage. Help me down.’

  Julia protested, ‘We’re nearly there. Can’t you wait until we reach the steps? You’re in no shape, Paine.’

  ‘Please, Julia. I want to get down and meet him on my own feet,’ Paine persisted, his tone sharp and surprisingly alert.

  Julia pulled on the reins, calling to Crispin to halt. She helped Paine steady himself. His injured arm made his descent ungainly, but he had his wish. Then Peyton had him wrapped in a brotherly embrace that nearly moved Julia to tears.

  ‘Paine, you’re home, at last. Thank God. I thought I had lost you for ever.’

  Paine murmured something Julia couldn’t hear and sagged in his brother’s arms, spent at last. She watched Peyton and a footman haul Paine indoors and presumably upstairs to a chamber to rest. She felt bereft. The one person she knew in this strange place could be of no assistance to her now.

  ‘He’ll need a doctor. There was no time to stop on the road and nowhere to stop, in any case,’ Julia said to no one particular, feeling at loose ends.

  ‘He’ll be fine.’ A woman of middle years with dark hair and kind eyes spoke in soft tones, coming up to the carriage. ‘Crispin!’ she called out. ‘Come help Paine’s lady down.’ The woman turned a gentle smile in Julia’s direction. ‘I’m Cousin Beth; you’re in good hands now. Don’t worry about a thing. We’ll get you settled in no time. There’s nothing wrong with Paine that rest and good cooking can’t cure and you, too, for that matter. You look as if a meal and a long sleep would be welcome. I’ll send for the physician from the village.’

  She meant her words kindly, but she could not dispel the loneliness that swamped Julia. Julia let Crispin swing her down from the high seat. She let the eminently capable Cousin Beth lead her through the house to a beautifully appointed lady’s chamber. She was appreciative of the friendly welcome, but she desperately wanted to be with Paine, even if it was to watch him sleep.

  Only now when Paine was out of her reach, did she fully realise how much she’d come to rely on him—not simply for protection, bu
t for companionship. In a short time he’d become her buffer between herself and the world.

  Chapter Twelve

  Cousin Beth’s prediction proved unerringly true. After seventeen hours of sleep and poultices, Paine looked and felt immensely more like himself, with the exception of a stiff arm. Peyton and Crispin had rummaged their wardrobes for spare clothes to replace the tatters he’d arrived in. They were all of a similar build and the fit was good. The few personal effects Julia had grabbed at the Brook Street house were laid out on the dresser. He recognised his comb and his razor.

  Out of curiosity over what had become of the rest of the clothes Julia had packed in the travelling valise, Paine opened the wardrobe and peered inside. Paine laughed to himself. It was empty except for his trousers, hopelessly wrinkled and entirely unsuitable for wearing. He remembered then that his shirt had gone for a good cause. He hoped Julia had been as fortunate with a makeshift wardrobe as he. Whatever she’d packed for herself was probably in the same wrinkled state his own clothes were in. But he did not doubt Cousin Beth’s efficiency in managing every detail. He was certain suitable clothes had been found for Julia as well.

  The sight of his crumpled clothes brought an image to mind of Julia upstairs in the Brook Street house, madly opening drawers, rummaging for clothes. At first, the image seemed humorous and touching. Even in her haste, Julia had thought of what he might need—the comb and razor were evidence of that. Then, the image lost its warm edge. His Julia should never have to flee in the middle of the night. His Julia should never have to know the fear she’d known during their flight from London. A fierce protectiveness awoke within him. His Julia.

  Paine took a final quick look in the long mirror. He would do. A shave would be nice, but he didn’t want to take the time. He wanted to see Julia. Paine felt he had been somehow remiss in his duty to her. She was his to look after. He’d left her alone in a house of strangers to find her own way. Not that there was much need for worry. Peyton wouldn’t let her go wanting. Neither would he let her out of his sight. Paine had been very clear in the note as to the dire situation of her circumstances.