Two against one weren’t terrible odds, but he waited, heart pounding, trying to understand what was happening before taking action. More than anything, he wanted proof that Caroline had nothing to do with Taylor or espionage.
“I’m supposed to exchange the book for another you were holding for a Mr. Johnson. I’m not leaving this one without retrieving the other.”
Trust Caroline to argue. The familiarity of that made it hurt even more to think she was involved in all this.
“The other book has been delayed,” Mr. Bigley insisted.
“I’ll be taking your book.” Richard saw Taylor reach for the wrapped package Caroline held.
“No, you won’t.” Her firm tone might’ve made him smile under other circumstances.
Oddly enough, Taylor hesitated as though he considered listening to her. Then he grabbed the package, attempting to take it from her grasp.
“Release it,” Caroline demanded, both hands holding tight.
The maid stepped forward to help, but Richard held up his hand to stop her.
“Give me the damned book.” Taylor continued tugging on the wrapped text.
“Stop, both of you.” Mr. Bigley looked back and forth between the pair of them, blinking rapidly.
Caroline stepped forward to stomp on Taylor’s foot. For the life of him, Richard couldn’t understand why she was being so stubborn. Why didn’t she just give it to him? Her mission must be of great importance, else she’d have released it without a fight.
“Ouch. Damn and blast.” Taylor let go momentarily as he bent to hop on one foot.
“Now see here, miss,” Mr. Bigley said. “I don’t want no trouble. The pair of you need to settle this elsewhere.”
“I do not know who this man is or why he wants this book, but I am not giving it to him. I’m supposed to trade the book for another.”
Her oddly worded response made it sound as if she were following someone else’s instructions. While she might be connected to all this, Richard wondered if she wasn’t directly involved, or at the very least, didn’t understand what her true purpose here was.
When Taylor straightened, light glinted off the knife in his hand.
Richard’s breath caught in his throat as Caroline cried out, and he rushed forward, intent on removing the danger.
Taylor turned to face the new threat but was a moment too slow, thanks to Caroline’s cry.
Richard reached for the knife, but Taylor slashed forward, cutting Richard’s hand.
“Richard?” Caroline stilled, her surprise at his presence clear.
He kept his focus on the knife, ignoring the pain along with her shock. Taylor knew what he was about, wielding the knife like a man well versed with such a weapon. His next slash caught Richard’s upper arm.
The injury burned, warning Richard it was deep.
Anger caused him to lunge forward, grabbing the hand that held the knife. Richard struck the man’s hand against the wall, trying to force him to release the knife. Taylor punched at Richard with his free hand but with limited effect as Richard blocked it with his shoulder.
“Do something,” Caroline demanded.
Richard thought for a moment she spoke to him, only to realize she urged Mr. Bigley to take action.
“Release the blade, Taylor,” Richard demanded. His injured arm ached, the throb stealing his strength. He thrust Taylor’s hand against the wall again, this time, putting his body into it, immobilizing the man’s other hand as best he could.
Caroline rushed to his side and shoved off Taylor’s hat then slammed her package on his head. The book wasn’t large, but she did it again and again as Richard did the same with Taylor’s hand.
The knife clattered to the floor. The burning ache in Richard’s arm worsened as Taylor struggled against him. Richard stepped back to strike him in the stomach. Taylor’s breath came in gasps but still he didn’t give up. He flailed wildly against Richard, landing several punches.
Fear for Caroline had Richard shifting in front of her to shield her from Taylor’s fists, but the lady didn’t care for that. She reached around Richard to strike Taylor with the book again.
The next blow Richard landed struck Taylor squarely in his jaw and the man slid to the floor. He did not move.
“Miss Gold?” A large man filled the doorway, a cab driver by the look of his clothes, alarm etched in his features. The breathless maid was at his side. Apparently, she’d run to get help.
“I’m fine, Jack.” But Richard clearly saw she wasn’t. Her lashes were damp with tears. Her hands shook as she smoothed her gown. “Aberland is here. All is well.” She lifted her chin and met Richard’s gaze as though to dare him to argue.
Richard could only stare at her in surprise. Her faith in him took him aback, especially when this situation had gotten so far out of hand and since she hadn’t bothered to tell him about this rendezvous earlier.
He glanced at Mr. Bigley, who hadn’t moved the entire time. His wide eyes and gaping mouth below his waxed moustache suggested a brawl was a rare occurrence in his shop.
“Jack, do you have something with which to bind this man?”
Mr. Bigley roused himself. “I have some string I use to tie packages.” He hurried over to a spool of it and used scissors to snip off several lengths.
Jack stepped forward and turned the unconscious man onto his stomach, pulling his hands behind his back.
Taylor moaned at the movement as Jack made quick work of the task then looked askance to Richard.
“Is your coach out front?” At Jack’s nod, Richard said, “Let us place him in that.”
“I’ll put him on the seat by me where I can keep an eye on him,” Jack offered. He easily lifted the man to his feet as Taylor came to his senses. “Get along with you now.”
Taylor turned to glare at Richard and Caroline. “This isn’t over.”
“I believe it is,” Richard said, drawing a deep breath to counter the throbbing of his arm.
Caroline reached down to retrieve her book and picked up Taylor’s knife as well. “Do you want this?” she asked Richard.
“Yes.” Using his left hand, he reached for it to put it in his pocket.
“What are you doing here?” Caroline asked him. “Were you following me?”
“No.” He wasn’t about to tell her exactly what he’d been doing, but he had many questions for her. “We’ll talk after you’ve safely returned home.”
“One moment, please.” She turned back to the shopkeeper. “You’re certain you don’t have a book to exchange for this one?”
“No, miss. I have no idea of what you’re speaking. Now if you and the man would leave, I’ll be locking my shop for the day. This has all been too much.”
“There’ll be someone coming by later, requesting additional details,” Richard warned him.
“He can ask whatever he wants,” the man said with a wave of his hand. “I don’t have any details to give.”
Caroline reached for Richard’s arm, and he hissed with pain. “Oh, good heavens!” Her alarm made him look closer.
Richard retrieved his handkerchief from his pocket and wrapped it over his bleeding hand. Then he glanced at his arm to see how bad it was.
His jacket sleeve was wet with blood.
She put a hand over her heart as she stared at his injury and drew a ragged breath. “Do you have a cloth of any sort?” she asked the shopkeeper.
He reached for a dirty rag on a shelf but she waved him back. “I’d prefer a clean one.”
The befuddled man glanced about as if he wasn’t certain.
“I’ll find something. Let us go.” She took Richard’s good arm and eased him forward as though worried he might collapse at any moment. Her wide-eyed expression appeared more frightened now than when they’d been in the midst of the struggle.
“I’m fine.” Richard shook his head and picked up the pace. The sooner they were out of this place, the better. He felt the weight of Caroline’s gaze, aware of how closely she watched him
.
“Lizzie, that was quick thinking to fetch Jack,” Caroline said. “Well done.”
The maid hurried along behind them. “Thank you, miss.”
“Could the aisles be any narrower?” Caroline muttered under her breath as they made their way to the front door.
Richard was pleased to see Jack had already managed to set Taylor beside him, the driver’s bulk enough to keep the bound man in place.
“Where are we taking him, my lord?” Jack asked.
“To my residence, if you please.” Richard gave him the address, with instructions to go around to the rear entrance.
“Forgive me for not getting the door,” Jack added with a grin.
“No worries.” Caroline stepped forward to perform the task. She blinked rapidly, as though to fight back tears. “Inside you go.”
Richard shook his head and gestured for her to precede him. “After you.”
He settled beside her, careful not to sit too close lest he get blood on her. The maid sat on the opposite bench.
Caroline bent forward and he heard the tearing of fabric before he realized what she was doing. She straightened with a length of her chemise in hand and bound his arm over the top of his jacket. The throbbing eased slightly.
He didn’t pretend to understand why she appeared more upset now than when Taylor threatened her with a knife. She couldn’t seem to take her gaze from his injuries, while all he could look at was the book that now sat on the bench beside the maid.
The sight of it made him all the angrier. She could’ve been killed and all for that damned book. “Why on earth were you in that bookshop?”
Chapter Twelve
Caroline looked down at her clenched hands, focusing on anything other than Richard. Her gloves were bloody, ruined in fact. That was Richard’s blood. The thought caused her stomach to lurch, and she swallowed hard. The idea of him in danger—of how close he’d come to losing his life—made her positively ill.
She didn’t want to answer his question as she had no idea how. Nor did she want to discuss any of this in front of the maid. Lizzie might feel compelled to share the entire story with Barclay, who would no doubt tell her mother. That would only create far more problems than she was willing to deal with.
“I was exchanging that for another.” She pointed toward the still-wrapped book beside Lizzie.
Silence greeted her response. When at last she looked at Richard, it was to see his eyes close briefly.
“You’re obviously in pain. Why don’t we hold this conversation until after we’ve seen to your injuries?” She looked at Lizzie then back to Richard, hoping he understood the implication that she preferred to have the discussion in private.
He glanced away, a muscle flexing in his jaw.
How much should she tell him? Part of her wanted to share everything. Did she dare?
She studied his profile from under her lashes, remembering again the incredible feeling of relief when he’d stormed into the back room of the bookshop. She still didn’t understand what had happened. Who was that Taylor person and why had he tried to take the book?
And why had Richard been there?
Her gaze dropped to Richard’s wound, her stomach dipping at the thought of the knife slicing his arm. Then his jacket caught her notice. The coarse wool fabric was nothing like what he normally wore. His hat had certainly seen better days.
Before she thought better of it, she asked, “Are you in some sort of disguise?”
He looked at her, his gaze cool, but he didn’t reply, only turned back to the window.
Apparently, he didn’t wish to say anything in front of Lizzie either. At least she hoped that was the reason for his silence.
“The fog refuses to lift today.”
“Humph,” was the only response he gave.
After that, she couldn’t think of anything else to break the terrible silence.
The cab stopped in an alleyway off Park Lane. She peeked out the window to see a relatively modest house, though it was difficult to see much from this entrance.
“I’ll see to our prisoner.” Richard held her gaze. “I will discuss this matter with you tonight at the Thompsons’ party.”
She shook her head. “I’m coming with you.”
He paused as he prepared to alight, the glare he gave her anything but welcoming.
“I insist on aiding you with your injuries.” She drew a deep breath, girding herself to convince him she was coming. “It’s my fault you are hurt. Please allow me to help.”
His scowl indicated he didn’t care for her plan, but nor did he argue. She had to wonder if that was because he was in pain or because he was angry.
She hurried out of the carriage, Lizzie behind her. Jack had secured the horses and two of Richard’s footmen came out of the house to help them. Neither of the liveried servants batted an eye at the trussed-up man.
Was this a common occurrence? Did he frequently bring home roughed up men with their hands bound?
The entire day had been so unsettling. How unreasonable of her to expect anything different at this point.
Richard’s home had the look of a Georgian villa. The three-story red brick had a wrought-iron fence around the gardens. While not terribly ornate, it was well-kept.
“Will you be needin’ me, miss?” Jack asked.
“I’ll see the lady home,” Richard advised him, his face pale. “Come inside and you’ll be properly compensated for your assistance.”
They entered the kitchen, and the cook and a maid reacted with more surprise than the footmen had. Perhaps Richard didn’t often bring prisoners into his home through this entrance. The more she learned about Richard, the more confused she became.
Jack disappeared briefly with the butler then gave them a friendly wave as he left out the back door. At Richard’s direction, the footmen hauled the man into the scullery to be dealt with later.
“You’re going to send for a constable?”
Richard paused to look at her, an odd expression on his face. “The authorities will be notified.”
Though confused by his reaction, she was more concerned about his injury than Taylor’s fate, especially when he drew a long, slow breath. “May I request some bandages, hot water, and a cloth?” she asked the cook.
“I’ll escort you home,” Richard said with a shake of his head.
“Not until I’ve seen to your injuries.” She lifted her chin, hoping he knew she wouldn’t take no for an answer. While it was highly inappropriate for her to be alone with him even though they were engaged, how could she leave him until she knew he’d be all right?
“It’s not that serious.” At her raised brow, he shook his head. “Very well.” He led the way out of the kitchen, a maid trailing behind them with the items Caroline had requested.
Lizzie remained in the kitchen at Caroline’s request, enjoying the attention from the other servants as she recounted recent events. Caroline needed at least a few minutes alone with Richard so they might discuss the details of what had happened.
His home was lovely. She’d expected something far different. Lamps in pretty glass bells lined the hallway. An intricate parquet wood floor ran the length of the hall then widened into the foyer.
Halfway down the hall, Richard opened a door to the left, revealing the library. The paneled walls were interspersed with mahogany shelves. A worn but elegant red and gold rug graced the floor. Though rather sparse, the décor was in good taste. Only the Spartan appearance of the room suggested Richard’s lack of funds.
A fire had just been lit but had yet to chase the chill from the room.
Caroline led the way to the settee before the fire, gesturing for the maid to leave the items on a small table, nodding her thanks. “I’ll take off the binding so you can remove your jacket.” To her surprise, he sat without arguing. She pulled off her gloves, then held out one hand. “Taylor’s knife, please.” Again no argument from Richard as he gave her the knife.
She cut the wr
ap carefully, not wanting to jar the wound by attempting to untie it.
He winced as he shifted to remove his jacket. She set the cloth and small basin of water on the edge of the settee to assist him. The heat of his body surprised her, bringing an unwelcome awareness of him to the moment.
“I fear your shirt is also ruined.” With a breath, she reminded herself that it didn’t matter that she’d never before seen him in this state of undress. She was here to assist him with the injuries, nothing more.
“No matter.” The quiet rumble of his voice reverberated through her, causing her to bite her lip in response. The man was hurt. What on earth was wrong with her that she couldn’t keep her mind on that?
She cut off his sleeve so she could better see the wound, the corded muscles in his upper arm and shoulder surprising her. A slice about three inches long marked his upper arm halfway between his elbow and shoulder. Her stomach twisted at the thought of how much pain he must be in. “Perhaps you should have this stitched.”
He lifted his arm to take a closer look. “It will be fine. I’d be grateful if you’d pour some brandy over it and bind it.”
“If you’re sure.” At his nod, she used the damp cloth to carefully remove the excess blood.
Unable to resist, she trailed a finger along the indents and bulges of his arm, fascinated at the sight. He blinked several times but otherwise revealed no reaction to her touch.
Berating herself to stay on task, she retrieved the brandy and poured it over the wound. A muscle bulged in his jaw but he otherwise, he didn’t move. She wrapped the long strip of linen around his arm several times and tucked the tail beneath the wrap to hold it in place. She repeated the process on his hand though it wasn’t nearly as bad and had already stopped bleeding.
“Caroline?” His deep voice in the quiet of the library caused her insides to quiver.
Her eyes met his, their dark depths holding secrets she couldn’t fathom.
Suddenly she was in his arms, held tight against his chest. Her arms wrapped around him, and she pressed her face against his shoulder. Whether he’d reached for her or she’d reached for him, she wasn’t sure. She only knew there was no place else she’d rather be. She’d never felt safer than in his arms.
Romancing the Rogue (Regency Rendezvous Book 9) Page 12