It was obvious that the children had left in a hurry, taking nothing but the barest of necessities.
The air in the cottage suddenly smothering, Killian stepped out the door and jumped onto his horse. Destination in mind, this time he guided the horse.
Reaching the highest ridge in Holloton, Killian could see the main road. He sat atop his horse, watching for an hour before the wagon showed, and his eyes couldn’t leave it as it trailed by.
A gaggle of young children—it was hard to tell how many from this distance—squished into the back of an open-air wagon. Two sat on the driver’s perch. Behind the wagon, a young boy followed on foot. The crew was led by Reanna, hand on the reins of the horse as she walked in the front.
Killian’s jaw clenched.
He needed to wait.
Wait a day until he sobered and Reanna calmed. She wouldn’t get far and he knew where she was traveling to.
Then, then he would go after her. Go after her even though he didn’t have a damn clue about what he was going to do.
He watched the group until they crested the far hill. They moved slowly, and just as the wagon disappeared over the hill, the little boy at the back stumbled, and tripped to one knee. He got up quickly, running to catch up to the wagon.
And then they were gone.
At that moment, Killian felt the deepest pang of emotion he’d had since bedding Reanna, though he only acknowledged it for a second.
What the hell had he done?
{ Chapter 10 }
What the hell had she done?
Reanna stared at the fire, letting it die down now that the children were asleep. Thank goodness cook—or Ike—had the sense to put a tinderbox in with the food. The journey would have been miserable without fire, even though the weather had been fortunate thus far during the trip. An occasional rain, but the spring warmth had held, except in the chilly evenings. But the children seemed to sleep well enough huddled together under the wagon, as they currently were.
The last five days had been long and hard, but the children had thought it an exciting adventure, mostly, in thanks to Thomas’s conjured enthusiasm. He had made it a game for his siblings and the others from the start. An adventuring game, he called it.
Reanna stretched her feet out in front of her and realized how much they hurt. Slowly, she untied the laces and eased her tall leather riding boots off. It wasn’t until the second boot came off, that the agonizing throbbing started in the first foot. She inspected her feet in the low light of the fire. Both were bleeding from blisters that covered her skin. She had only walked since they left the Visper’s shack, and now her feet were paying the price.
Damn her lack of foresight again—she wasn’t even wearing proper walking shoes. Then again, what were proper walking shoes for an eight-day trek to London?
Realizing the pain hadn’t been as harsh when the boots were on, Reanna attempted to shove her right foot back into the boot. It didn’t slide in. She gripped the edges of the leather and shoved harder.
Excruciating. But the boot was on. Doubled over, she bit back against the pain as the throbbing waves began to lessen.
When she could breathe again, she eyed the left boot and braced herself, then picked it up. It was the same, even worse because she knew the torture at hand.
Head down, still trying to catch her breath from the left foot, a voice made her jump.
“Do they hurt that bad?” A small hand went on her shoulder.
She looked up to see Thomas standing by her side, his face crumpled with concern.
“What do you mean? Does what hurt?”
“Your feet. I saw them when you took the boots off. You’re crying.”
Surprised, Reanna touched her cheek only to find it was wet. She quickly rubbed her face with her palms. “No, no, they don’t hurt at all. You should be asleep.”
He shrugged.
“Here, sit down.” She tugged his wrist downward until Thomas sat beside her. Reanna tucked him under her arm, his head on her chest.
“Why did he not like us?”
“Why did who not like you?” Reanna played dumb, hoping to not have to come up with an answer.
“The marquess. He doesn’t like us much. Does he like you?”
Reanna stifled a bitter laugh. “No, he does not like me. Not at all.”
“Why not? I like you.”
Reanna frowned, staring at the fire. “I honestly do not know why he does not like me, Thomas. I wish I did know.”
“Is that why he doesn’t like us either?”
“Probably. I am afraid one bleeds into the other.”
“Do you think he likes anyone?”
The vision of Killian’s mistress, spewing cruelty, flew into Reanna’s mind. She shrugged. “I guess he likes some people. People who are more like him, I suppose.”
“Hmmm. That’s too bad.”
“Why?”
“I think if he liked you, he would like more people too. Then maybe he’d like us.”
Her arm tightened around him. “Maybe, Thomas. Maybe.”
They sat in silence for a few minutes. Reanna thought Thomas had fallen asleep, but when she moved to lay him back, his voice came out, thick with near-sleep. “How much longer will it take us, Lady Ana? The kids are getting tired and kind of scared that we’re not there yet.”
There was no use in easing the truth. “I think three days, maybe more.”
“That’s not too bad. They’ll be happy to hear it.”
“Good, now get some sleep.” She grabbed the small blanket next to her and folded it, bundling it up and putting it between Thomas’s head and the cold ground.
Midmorning the next day, with Thomas leading the horse, the group was working through a long stretch of the rough road in the middle of thick woods. Reanna was at the back of the wagon, walking along, singing Jeannie’s favorite song for the lot of the younger ones for the fiftieth time that day.
Eyes on the youngest ones, her feet didn’t stop when the wagon did, and she smacked into the low plank of wood across the back.
Hitting her stomach, it took her breath away, and it was several moments before she could swallow air. She looked up, only to see exactly why the wagon had stopped so abruptly.
Highwaymen.
And one had a pistol aimed at Thomas.
Reanna ran, stumbling to the front, diving in between Thomas and the two men, high on horseback. “No. Stop.” Her hands flew up, palms wide as she tried to shield not only Thomas, but the entire lot of children behind her.
“We be takin’ what money ye got, ducky,” the shorter one without the pistol said, jumping off his horse and approaching her.
“What?” Reanna blinked hard, not quite believing what was happening.
“Yer money, ducky. It be ours now. Hand it over.” He approached her, pulling a knife from his waistband.
“No. But, what? I have no money. And the children.”
“How ye be payin’ the tolls without coin? Ye have some, that’s sure.”
He moved within swinging distance.
Reanna looked over her shoulder, praying for another traveler to show on the road. It remained empty. And now she had the wagon full of children crying behind her.
“No. Only a few shillings left.” Reanna shook her head. “I swear, we have nothing.”
“We be takin’ yer horse, then. We can get a might bit fer it.”
“What? No.” Reanna stepped sideways, trying to block his path to the horse. “You cannot. How will we get to London?”
“Not me problem, ducky.” He stepped around her, moving to the hitching on the horse.
“They can’t take our horse, Lady Ana.” Thomas poked her in the back.
The short one stopped, his hand on the horse, and looked at Reanna. “Lady, eh? Ye be lyin’ ‘bout the coin, then.” He took a step back toward her.
“I am not lying.” Reanna looked frantically at the man on the horse, then back to the one in front of her. “All you see is all I
have with me.”
“Horse will be fine, then, ducky.” He went back to unhitching the horse.
Reanna’s mind flew. Dammit. She needed that horse to get them anywhere. She had nothing to defend them. Nothing. Except…
Quietly, she turned to Thomas, putting her face in front of him. The horse’s reins still in his hands, he stared at her, watching her as if she was daft, but he stayed silent. That was all she needed. After a moment, she moved her mouth to his ear, her head shaking.
“Hush. No, Thomas, I don’t think they are the worst.” Her loud whisper gained a notch. “I think we can do better.”
The short robber in front of her turned, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. “What? What ye say?”
Reanna stood straight, setting herself in front of Thomas. “Nothing.”
He stepped at her, waving the knife in her face. “Tell me what ye say.”
Reanna’s hand went up as she leaned away from the knife, but her feet stayed solid in front of Thomas. “Please, it was nothing. I just said I don’t think you are the worst thieves we will encounter. I was hoping to hire the deadliest ones to escort us safely to London, and Thomas just suggested you two.”
“We not be the deadliest? Course we be the deadliest.” He looked genuinely insulted, but didn’t lower the knife. “And the biggest. And where ye gonna get the coin for that, lady?”
Reanna shrugged, nonchalant, praying that her pounding heartbeat wasn’t making sound outside of her own head. “In London. I can access my funds there. Just because I do not have money with me, does not mean I do not have money in town.”
The knife lowered, and he crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at her. “What ye be payin?”
“No.” Reanna shook her head. “You two take the horse and let us be on our way, if you please.”
“How much?”
“Ten guineas. But I think we can do better.”
“Ye can’t, lady.” He scoffed, pointing up and down the road with the tip of his knife. “We run this road from here to London. Ain’t no others ye gonna hire. We be it. And we be happy to take your ten guineas.”
“We would?” The tall, skinny robber still on his horse eyed his partner.
“We would. If’in you got the coin fer real.”
Reanna sighed. “I do, for why else would I bother to be taking care of this many children? But it does not seem as if escorting us will fit your schedule. You seem to be in a hurry, and we move quite slowly.”
“It fits our schedule just fine, lady. Ye have us, or no one.”
Reanna looked around, undecided. Finally, with another sigh, she looked at the tall one. “Very well. You two will have to do. I will pay you when we arrive safely at my solicitor’s establishment. But you will have to put away the pistol and knife. I will not have the children scared.”
Tucking the knife back into his waistband, the short one turned to the horse, re-tightening the hitching. He pointed at Reanna. “Git those squabblers back there down fer movin, ducky. We have coin to collect.”
Reanna let out an unperceivable sigh of extreme relief as she walked past him to the children, hiding a smile threatening her face.
She clapped her hands. “Sit, sit children. We are moving again.”
The short man went to get on his horse, and he nudged the animal to trail Reanna at the back of the wagon. The skinny robber remained in the front and started down the road. Thomas pulled on the reins he was holding, and the wagon started forward again.
Reanna looked over her shoulder at the short one. “Thank you, good sir, for your assistance.”
“We ain’t good sirs, ducky. Don’t go gittin thoughts on that.”
Reanna smiled warmly at him. “Yes, well, you are now gainfully employed. I will speak to you with the respect you deserve.”
~~~
Waiting, Reanna stood on the top step, staring at the dark red door of the house that swallowed a whole London block. Taking a deep breath, she shifted from one foot to the other in order to even the shards of pain in her feet.
After the stop at her aunt’s solicitor, and her payment to “Shorty” and “Tally”—as the children had dubbed the highwaymen, since they had never shared their names—she had stopped by Killian’s townhouse. She had found Miss Melby there, who had been in near hysterics over Reanna’s whereabouts.
Bringing Miss Melby with her to her aunt’s Brook Street home, they had spent a whirlwind week of hiring staff and nannies, and setting up the household.
The dark red door opened in front of her, and Reanna was shown into an impeccably decorated drawing room that still managed to be cozy in its elegance.
“Reanna. Wonderful. It is you. I was hoping I heard Wilford correctly. For I would certainly not see most anyone in this state. Forgive me for not standing. Come in, come in.”
The voice of her friend—Reanna’s only friend, truth be told—floated up. There had been plenty of acquaintances through her aunt during her stay in London, but only one person Reanna had actually felt she could sincerely call a friend, the Duchess of Dunway.
Reanna searched the room, her eyes eventually landing on the back of the long moss-colored sofa in front of her. The duchess’s head popped out above the carved wood top of the furniture. Then her hand came up, waving Reanna in.
Reanna walked into the room and around to the front of the sofa, only to see the duchess half-lying on a wall of pillows, feet propped up on the sofa, and an open book resting on her huge mound of a belly.
All anxiety in the pit of Reanna’s stomach dissipated when she saw the duchess’s smiling face. Reanna had often wondered during the months in Holloton if their friendship had remained intact, for the duchess was married to Killian’s best friend.
“You. You are pregnant.”
“What? Why, yes. Of course. I thought you knew,” Aggie said. “Did you not receive the letters I sent?”
“Letters?” Reanna paused, eyebrows collapsing in confusion. “I received no letters at Holloton.”
“None?”
Reanna shook her head.
“None at all?”
“I am afraid not.”
For a moment, Reanna thought she saw a flash of annoyed anger in Aggie’s eyes, although it didn’t seem to be directed at her. But then Aggie waved it off with a bright smile. “Well, no bother. You have just discovered the most important news I had with your very own eyes, and I am delighted to see you. Sit, please.”
Reanna moved to the chair by her friend’s head. “When is the babe due? You look…”
“Huge?”
Aggie laughed, and it was the dry, throaty laugh that had always warmed Reanna’s soul. She had missed that laugh.
“Thank you for holding back the analysis, but it is true. I am huge. The midwife says the babe should be born anytime now. And I have been stuck on this sofa or in bed for weeks. Devin will not let me out of the house.” Aggie shifted on the pillows so she could see Reanna more directly. “But enough about me. How long have you been back?”
“About a week.”
“A week? You have been hiding yourself away from me. Why on earth did you not call or at least leave a card? I would say that I have due right to be upset at you, if I was not so happy to see you. I have been so worried about you. Up at Holloton by yourself,” her nose wrinkled, “is no place to be.”
Reanna relaxed on the chair. It was the first time in more than a fortnight that she had sat without a child in her lap, and the two minutes with Aggie had already lifted her spirits. “You do not know how good it is to see you, Aggie. I apologize for not calling sooner, it has been a frantic week at my aunt’s home since we arrived.”
“Your aunt’s home?” She stopped, eyeing Reanna. “Killian did not come into London with you?”
“No.”
“And you are not staying at his townhouse?”
“There is no reason for me to be.” Reanna’s head went down slightly.
“Is it really that bad between the two of you?”
Reanna looked back up, coldly determined. “It is, but it is of no consequence. Truly. I have put that behind me.”
Aggie frowned. “I am sorry to hear that—for Killian’s sake. But I will not pry.”
“Thank you.”
“Let us change the subject.” Aggie turned bright. “First, please pour some tea for yourself. I would do it, but once I get into the wedges I have ground into this sofa, I have a hard time getting out.”
Reanna laughed and leaned forward to the tea set in front of her. “Would you like a fresh spot?”
“No—yes. It is a blend that is supposed to spur the babe into making an appearance, and I have been drinking copious amounts of it. Too much so, but I am willing to keep trying.”
Reanna handed her the tea, and Aggie moved the book off her round belly and set the cup and saucer in its place.
“So tell me,” Aggie said. “What has been so frantic at your aunt’s home?”
Reanna took a sip of her tea, wondering where to start the tale, and how much too actually share with Aggie.
“It is an odd chain of events, but up at Holloton, I met a little boy, Thomas, when I was out on a ride.”
“You learned to ride? Good for you.”
Reanna smiled. Holloton had been good for many things, she had to admit. “So the boy, Thomas, was poaching from Killian’s land. You can imagine how horrified he was at being caught. But it turned out that his mother had died, and his father was long gone, so that left him to take care of five younger siblings. Can you imagine?”
Aggie shook her head, rubbing her belly below the saucer.
“Yes, and he is only nine years old. So I went back with him to his house, and convinced him to bring his brothers and sisters and stay on the estate. Things just evolved from there, and before I knew it, I was running an orphanage in one of the old hunting cottages on the estate.”
“How fantastic.”
“Yes, it was. Until…” Reanna took another sip of her tea, hiding her eyes.
“Until what?”
Reanna took a deep breath, hedging, and placed her tea-cup and saucer on the small table.
“I do not want to know, do I?” Aggie asked. “So you better tell me right now.”
Hold Your Breath 02 - Unmasking the Marquess Page 11