“Lord Luke?” A man gasped on the threshold, a footman standing beside him. It was one of the fellows that Luke had employed to oversee the capture of these highwaymen.
“George?”
“I did not wish to rouse the household, but I thought I should come to you. There has been an incident involving a coach carrying two young ladies, and the night’s watch have gone in pursuit of three fellows.”
“Highwaymen?” He narrowed his eyes.
George nodded. “We believe so. I thought you should know of it.”
“I am glad you came to me. We must go, at once. Lead me to them.”
George hesitated. “Are you sure, My Lord?”
“I am. Now, come, before it is too late.” If these highwaymen could be caught, he did not want to miss out on their capture.
“Very well, My Lord.” George turned and hurried down the stairs, with Luke in hot pursuit, after grabbing his coat and his pistols from the nearby chest. He and Edmund had planned to join the first contingent of guards that very morning, but there seemed to be no time like the present.
Pausing on the threshold, he glanced over his shoulder, to make sure that no one was lurking in the shadows. But the house stayed silent. Not a creature stirred. Satisfied that nobody would seek to persuade him against this, he sprinted for the stables. A few moments later, he was on his horse, riding away with George at his side.
Fifteen minutes later, they pulled to a halt beside an overturned carriage, which lay despondently upon the road. The driver lay dead on the ground in front of it, and two young ladies were sitting on the grass verge nearby. They were already being attended to by two of the guard that Luke had employed, giving him the liberty to look out toward the rolling fields.
“Which way did they go?” he asked, turning to George.
“They went towards those woods, My Lord.”
“Then that is where we must go.” Digging in his heels, he took off before George could say another word, racing for the distant woods. He only hoped that he was not too late, and that they had not escaped before he had the chance to make them pay.
Crashing through the trees, Luke kept his eyes on the dense fog that rolled across the undergrowth. It was eerie, as if the ghosts of this place were rising up. This was a haunted world, indeed.
He rode on, until he reached a river, which cut through the center of the forest. Hoofprints marked the muddy ground, churning it up. Did they cross the river? He could not be sure. If they had, then he knew he would never catch them.
“I did not know if you would be bold enough to come yourself, My Lord,” a voice jeered from the nearby trees, muffled and strange. “How very foolish of you.”
Luke glanced into the darkness, but he could not make out the speaker. “I would never shy from bringing criminals to justice, whoever you are. Truthfully, I rather thought that you would be the one to stay away, if you had any sense of what was good for you.”
“You would have liked that, wouldn’t you?” The hidden voice snickered.
“You will be made to suffer for your actions.” Luke’s stomach churned with nerves, the pistols weighing heavily on his mind. He could not bow out now, not with the enemy so close.
“And what actions might those be? I have performed so many terrible acts, that you must be specific.” The fellow spoke with a clipped, clear accent that did not align with his behavior, but it was not a voice he recognized.
“You harmed a dear friend of mine,” Luke shot back. “You took something that belonged to her.”
“Her honor?” A dark laugh echoed through the trees, amplified by the arching canopy.
“No, I stopped you before you could take that,” Luke snarled. “But you took a necklace, and I will have it returned.”
“Ah, the fiery little creature—the governess, I believe she said she was?”
Luke desperately searched the surrounding area, but he could not pinpoint the villain’s location. He seemed to be coming from everywhere and nowhere, the presence of the trees throwing off the sound.
“You will be punished,” he said, meaning every word.
The hidden fellow laughed. “I do not recall her asking you to be so chivalrous, nor do I recall her complaining of my actions. I believe she rather liked it and would have enjoyed the pounding I was about to give her, had you not turned up.”
“You cowardly devil!” Luke roared, his anger spiking. He would not have anyone speak of Miss Dowels in such a despicable manner. Indeed, he would end this man, once and for all, if he only dared to show himself.
“That governess of yours was playing coy, that is all. She did not need your assistance, nor were her tears real.” The fellow chuckled. “Are you envious, Sir? Do you wish you could have been the one to ravish her? It certainly sounds like it.”
“I will have your head for that!”
“You must catch me first.” A branch snapped close by, making Luke’s head whip around. He peered into the undergrowth, snatching for his pistols and preparing them to shoot, only to find a startled rabbit darting for safety. The polished handles of the pistols were sleek and heavy in his clammy palms, brimming with menace. He did not like them much, but necessity beckoned.
“Show yourself,” Luke commanded.
“I would rather you shot the rabbit,” the man replied, irritatingly blasé.
The sun had almost fully risen on the horizon, casting a soft, orange glow through the canopy of the woodland. At least I may properly see my aggressor soon enough. Shooting in the dark would have been unwise. Although, if he had to, Luke would do it, if only to vanquish this foul creature.
“Come out, and you may live,” Luke warned.
“No, I do not think that I shall.”
Luke braced himself, lifting his pistols and aiming the first one at the spot where he thought the man’s voice had come from. A shot rang out, splintering the dawn air. He expected to hear the sound of a wounded man, but it did not come.
“A miss,” the fellow said, with a cackle.
Luke lifted his pistol and pulled the trigger of the second pistol without care, aiming between two tree trunks to his left. He wanted to scare the man out of his hiding place, so he could finish the job. The shot ricocheted through the space between the trees, landing uselessly in a tree trunk beyond it. Luke grimaced, infuriated by the evasive tactics of this highwayman.
“Another miss,” the man tutted. “Aren’t you supposed to be a famed marksman? Or, perhaps, that is your brother. The elder one. What is his name again?”
Luke took the time to reload his weapons, using materials he kept in his saddlebag, and was about to fire again. He was so focused that he almost did not hear the sound of a pistol firing. The lead ball hit him in the arm, a shout of pain wrenching from his throat as he quickly covered the wound.
Luke’s head snapped back to the opposite bank, where he saw a figure hurrying away through the bushes. It was followed, a moment later, by the telltale beat of hooves upon the forest floor. No!
Before he knew what was happening, he lolled forward against the pommel of his horse, gripping it tight to keep from falling off.
A red circle appeared at the top of his shirt sleeve, scarlet blooming out across the cream fabric of his shirt. He looked down in horror, as though his body did not belong to him, barely able to put together how such a thing had happened.
Then a cry echoed through the woodland, distracting him. He turned in time to see a figure darting through the trees, running towards him. The figure drew closer, the morning glow revealing the frightened face of Miss Dowels.
“My Lord, thank goodness!” she cried, as she closed the gap between them. Luke tried to focus on her, but the pain had made his eyes foggy. “My Lord, you are hurt,” Miss Dowels cried, reaching up to look at the wound. “You put yourself in such grave danger. My goodness, I could not have borne it if… well, if you had been killed. We must get you to a physician.” She helped him down from his horse, so she could examine his wound.
Luke struggled through the pain. “I almost had him.”
“Who?” Her eyes darted toward the riverbank.
“The man who harmed you.”
“That is not worth your life, My Lord,” she said sadly, tearing a strip of fabric from the sleeve of her gown and pressing with added vehemence into the wound. He grimaced, air hissing through his teeth as pain overpowered his senses.
“His attempt to kill me was something of a surprise, I will admit.”
“You should not have put yourself in such danger, My Lord. I should not say it aloud, but I must,” she mumbled, tearing off another strip of her gown to bind his wound. “If you die of these injuries… I shall be extraordinarily furious with you.”
He winced at the agony. “Then we ought to call for a physician. Doctor Partridge is likely tired of attending on me by now.”
“Will you inform your mother and father of what has happened this morning?”
He shook his head. “I will tell them that I fell. They will believe that.”
“Would be that you had, My Lord. What a foolhardy endeavor.” She tutted in exasperation.
“I did it for you.”
Her expression softened. “You foolish, foolish man,” she muttered, adding more strips of fabric to his wound.
“How did you know where to find me?” he asked, admiring her complexion in the morning light. Not for the first time, he wondered if she might truly be an angel. She certainly looked like one, in that moment.
She shot him a worried look. “I overhead the guard telling you about the coach and ladies being held up by the highwaymen. I followed you on horseback, when you slipped from the house in so secretive a manner. I sent the butler to fetch your brother, so he is likely on his way.” She paused. “Then, I spotted the carriage and knew you could not be far from it. In truth, I lost you for a short while. In the end, the shots gave me your exact location.”
“Where is your horse?”
“I left it outside the woods,” she replied.
“Do you really think me foolish?” he wondered, feeling stung. Luke saw clearly that Teresa’s purpose in life was selfless support of others. He was not surprised that she had rushed to the scene of calamity—the overturned carriage—or that it was she bandaging his bleeding wound in her no-nonsense way.
“I think you rather silly, but I… I am grateful for your reasoning. I just wish you had left it to your men on the road.”
“I should have waited, you are right,” he said quietly. “But I did not want to lose those wretches. I did not want them to escape. When George came to me, to tell me what he had seen, I could not help but follow.”
“You will catch them next time,” she replied. “I know that you will.”
“Here, let us return to the house.” With her walking beside Moonstruck, they made their way back out of the woods to where her own horse was waiting. She lifted herself into the saddle with ease, before they turned toward the Rowfex Estate. However, he noted that she pulled the hood of her cloak far down over her face, so that nobody could see her. Very wise, my angel.
More than ever before, he wanted to know everything about this young woman. How had she learned so much about medicine? What caused the pain in her eyes? Where did she come from and what was her story?
He wanted to learn it all, so that he might permit his tentative feelings to expand. After all, it would do no good to fall for a woman with dark ghosts lingering in her past.
Chapter 10
“What happened?” Edmund pulled up his horse, meeting Luke and Miss Dowels on the driveway leading up to the house. He had heard that there had been some trouble and was eager to find out if his brother was well. His heart raced as he saw the blood spreading across Luke’s shirt, a deep frown furrowing his forehead.
“An incident with the highwaymen,” Luke replied. He looked very pale indeed. “With one highwayman, to be precise. Our men gave chase, and I managed to discover him in the woods, but he evaded us.”
“I was just coming to see how I might assist. Did the highwaymen take anything? Were they apprehended before they could cause any harm?”
Luke gave a small shrug. “The carriage was in a dire state and the driver had been killed. The two ladies within are being brought to the Manor, where they might recover, but they are shaken. It is hardly surprising, considering what they have endured this morning.” His eyes hardened. “These highwaymen must be stopped.”
“I will ride to the other men now and speak with them,” Edmund replied. He did not care to see young ladies of good reputation suffer, and he desired to bring them comfort, if he could. “We will apprehend them, Luke, even if we must spare every able man for the task.”
“Thank you, Brother.” Luke winced, his face twisting up in a mask of pain.
“As for you, I suggest you take to your bed. Doctor Partridge will be sent for, though he is likely tired of the sight of your face.” Edmund gave a worried smile.
“I will see to that, My Lord,” Miss Dowels replied.
“Very good. Then I will not keep you.” Edmund dug in his heels, spurring the beast on down the driveway. Reaching the gate, he turned to look back over his shoulder. He did not care for the proximity of Miss Dowels to his brother.
Then again, Luke was prone to causing the family problems with his lax attitude and devil-may-care manner. Usually, it was up to Edmund to clean up the messes he made, and he hoped he would not have another to resolve. A romance could not, and would not, be allowed to blossom between these two. Edmund would not stand for it.
Do not cause a scandal, Luke. His brother rarely listened to him, but this was not simply about Luke. Miss Dowels needed this position. Edmund could see how fervently she adored her role in the household and knew how fond the children were of her. And, if Luke persisted in his romantic endeavors, continuing this proximity with Miss Dowels… he would not be the only one who lost dearly. This involved all of them, whether Luke chose to admit that or not.
You will not be allowed to ruin lives, Brother. Even if I must stand in your way. Sighing, he turned around and pressed on, praying he could resolve the matter with these young ladies before word reached the gossipmongers of the ton. The Duchess had been through quite enough, without having her home avoided as though the plague had struck.
* * *
“Are you to take care of me again?” Luke glanced at Teresa as she gathered her magical ointments and potions and approached his bedside. He had been forced to remove his shirt so that she might attend to the injury. The ball had entered through the hollow that connected his arm to his shoulder, and his entire arm was streaked with crimson.
“Until the physician arrives,” she replied. Her cheeks were pink, her eyes shining with something akin to sadness.
“Are you sad, Miss Dowels?” He wanted to reach up to touch her face but sensed she might recoil. He did not know if he was the cause of her anguish, or if there was something more, bubbling beneath the surface of her emotions.
“I would not call it sadness,” she said. Dipping a cloth into a bowl of warm water that she had procured, she began to wash away the drying blood. Pinkish rivulets meandered across his skin, dripping down.
“Then, pray, tell me what is the matter? Have I caused this distress?” It was the last thing he wanted. Indeed, he felt a deep gratitude for Miss Dowels, that she had come to him in his time of need. It angered him that the devil had managed to escape, but at least it had brought Miss Dowels to his side.
She continued to daub away the mess that streaked his arm. “It is not my place to say, My Lord.”
“And yet, I would urge you to.”
“You took such a risk this morning,” she said, lifting her gaze to meet his. “You might have been killed. Why did you not wait for your men? I cannot fathom it. It was foolish, so very foolish. I cannot think what I might have done if you had fallen. I could not have endured it.”
His pulse quickened. She cares for me… “I am sorry, Miss Dowels.
I acted rashly; I know that. Please… say that you will forgive me? I only wished to capture that fellow for your sake, so that I could retrieve what he stole from you.”
Her expression softened. “How could I remain angry, knowing that?” She paused. “And yet, I must ask you to promise me something.”
“Anything.”
“Take more care in the future, for your own sake, and that of your family. They could not survive without you.” She lowered her gaze. “I know that Lord Harpington is the eldest, and that he will inherit the dukedom, but that does not mean you are expendable. Far from it. You are the life and soul of this household, and that light would sputter out if anything were to happen to you.”
An Untamed Governess For The Rogue (Steamy Historical Regency) Page 8