Romancing the Earl (19 page)

C
ate shifted in her seat. Her coach was well-sprung, but she’d spent a great deal of time bouncing around the countryside in it of late and had many more miles—nearly a hundred—in front of her.

“It’s the worst part of our endeavors,” Grey muttered, noting Cate’s movements.

“Yes,” Cate agreed, “a necessary evil. But we’ll arrive at Stratton Hall in a few miles. We’ll stop for a bit and take some refreshment before continuing on our way.”

Grey peered at her from the rear-facing seat. “I’m surprised you’re abandoning his lordship.”

Cate was surprised at Grey’s surprise. “Why? I’ve done what I said I would. I took him to Septon House so that he could speak with Septon, and now I’ll introduce him to Stratton so he can continue his investigation.”

Grey shrugged. “He’s been very helpful to you. You must admit, his taking you to where the tapestry was located suggests that you obtained more out of the bargain.”

Cate crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t have the tapestry, however. He still hasn’t consented to sell it to me.”

“You don’t need it to find the sword—assuming it’s at Harlech.”

“And if it’s not, I may need to consult the tapestry again, which will be difficult since it’s not in my possession.”

“At least he gave you the de Valery document.”

To return to Septon’s library. Surreptitiously. She couldn’t be irritated with Norris for taking it, not when it had proven so bloody necessary to puzzling out the location of the sword. Cate didn’t answer, instead choosing to direct her attention out the window.
 

“Mayhap you’ll change your mind once we arrive at Stratton Hall,” Grey said.

Cate looked at her friend with a narrowed gaze. “Why do you care so much? Wait, have you and Wade developed a
tendre
for each other?” Cate had noted their riding together both to and from the folly. Grey wasn’t an accomplished horsewoman, but she also wasn’t terrible. Still, she’d hung back with Wade, or so it had seemed to Cate.

Grey returned her stare with another shrug.

“It’s all right if you have,” Cate said, uncrossing her arms.

Grey’s brows dipped briefly. “I wouldn’t need your permission.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” Cate massaged her temple, mentally admonishing herself for sounding like an employer. While she
was
Grey’s employer, their relationship was completely egalitarian.

They were quiet a few minutes before Grey said, “Do you plan to dispatch a letter to your parents from Stratton Hall?”

Cate nodded. “I’ll let them know I’m traveling to Harlech.” She was careful to communicate with her parents frequently, both for their peace of mind and to ensure that someone knew where she was going for safety and propriety’s sake. She’d originally told them she was going to Wootton Bassett to visit Miranda, saying nothing about Dyrnwyn or the tapestry or approaching Lord Norris. Then she’d sent a letter saying she was going to attend Septon’s party in order to see his new acquisitions. Before leaving for Worcester with Norris, she’d sent another note indicating that she was helping the earl track down a missing piece of his antiquities collection. It was the truth, even if she’d left out several key details.

“Norris could’ve insisted on going to Stratton Hall first.” Grey apparently wasn’t ready to abandon her attempt to persuade Cate to change her mind. “But he stopped in Worcester to find the tapestry for you.”

In growing frustration, Cate glanced up at the roof of the coach. “Our objective has to be obtaining the sword. Every moment we waste is a moment that someone else could find it.”

“Do you really think someone has figured out the tapestry?”

“I don’t want to assume they
haven’t
. Finding the sword is the most important thing.” Saying it out loud made it somehow sound hollow. Yes, it was important—
to her
. But the most important thing? Worth disregarding the man who’d gone out of his way to help her fulfill a lifelong dream?

Cate tipped her head back against the cushion and pushed out a heavy sigh. “You’re right. We’ll stop with them at Stratton Hall. Does that satisfy you?”

Before Grey could answer, the coach came to a swift and tumultuous stop, tossing Cate forward and then jerking her back so that she slid to the floor in an ungainly heap of skirts.

Grey, still perched on her seat, reached down for Cate. “Are you all right?”

Cate stumbled to her feet and fell back onto the seat. “I’m intact. What the devil happened?”

Grey threw open the door and froze.
 

Cate leaned forward and looked over Grey’s shoulder—straight into the eyes of a masked highwayman with a pistol pointed directly at them.

Grey clapped the door shut and turned to pull two guns from beneath her seat. She handed one to Cate as a booming voice overtook the interior of the coach.

“Stand and deliver or I’ll shoot yer coachman!”

“I’m going to open the door and shoot him,” Grey whispered calmly.
 

Cate peered out the window and winced. “Don’t. There are two of them. One is standing and he has a pistol—and it’s pointed at Wood.”
 

Grey swore softly. “We’re coming out,” she called. Then she turned to Cate and spoke quietly again. “Hold the pistol low; try to disguise it among your skirts.”

Cate nodded and Grey opened the door. Wood, the coachman, dashed forward under the watchful eye of a second masked highwayman, and lowered the step. Grey descended from the coach and Cate made to follow her. But the sound of a gunshot drew her to turn her head.
 

Norris’s coach had been trailing a bit behind them, and they’d clearly caught up. Unfortunately, there was another pair of highwaymen waylaying their coach too.

Elijah cocked his pistol and looked at Wade. “Ready?”

Wade picked up the pouch of gunpowder and shot from the seat and nodded. “Two that I can see, but we ought to presume more.”

Elijah agreed, and he also presumed the “more” were at Miss Bowen’s coach. And that made his blood fairly boil. “I’m going to fire as soon as I open the door. Then give me your pistol and I’ll shoot the other.”

“Yes, sir.”

Wade had lapsed into his old address. Nothing could’ve satisfied Elijah more—save these highwaymen going straight to the devil.
Momentarily,
he told himself.

With a final look at Wade, he pushed open the door, set his sights on the horseman to the right and fired. The bullet struck the man in the shoulder and he fell from the horse. Elijah thrust his used weapon at Wade and took the next one, which Wade had already cocked. Spooked by the first shot, the other highwayman’s mount danced beneath him. The rider tried to train his pistol on Elijah, but the horse jostled him too much. Elijah fired. The shot only nicked the man in the arm. The second report was enough, however, to send the horse racing down the road, with the rider desperately clinging to his mount to remain astride.

Another highwayman rode toward them, coming from the direction of Miss Bowen’s coach. Wade swiped the pistol from Elijah’s hand and replaced it with the reloaded first one.
 

Elijah lifted the weapon and leveled it at the approaching horseman. “Keep coming and I’ll shoot you as I did the others,” he called out. “Turn tail and run and I’ll likely let you go.”

The sound of a pistol shot from the vicinity of Miss Bowen’s coach drew Elijah’s attention just long enough for the advancing highwayman to fire. Elijah’s carelessness nearly cost him an ear as the bullet whooshed by his head and lodged in the side of the coach. Refocusing, Elijah shot at the masked highwayman, but he turned his horse and evaded the bullet.

Uttering a vicious curse, Elijah exchanged the pistol with Wade once again, but the highwayman was already riding away. No, not away, but back to Miss Bowen’s coach, where another masked man was clutching his arm. Grey had presumably shot him. Elijah ran toward them with his pistol raised.
 

Grey stood outside the coach, a pistol—presumably spent—dangling from her hand, while Miss Bowen held her own weapon pointed at the wounded highwayman.

The brigand who’d nearly uneared Elijah reached them first. He pulled a second pistol from his saddlebag and aimed it at Miss Bowen. “Lower yer pistol or I’ll shoot ’er.”

“Not before I shoot you,” Elijah said, his finger itching to pull the trigger. “What do you want?” He was nearly certain they were after the tapestry, which was safely stowed in his coach.
 

He turned to see a small, slight figure stealing into the vehicle.

Hell.

“Wade, Timmons!” Elijah called out to his valet and coachman, whose attention was fully focused on what was happening outside the ladies’ coach.

Timmons pivoted immediately, but Wade was slower—as if he couldn’t bring himself to turn away from the women, or more accurately Grey. Timmons ran to the coach and leapt inside only to fall back out again clutching his side.
 

Elijah went into full battle mode. He refocused on the highwayman threatening Miss Bowen and shot him in the vicinity of his collarbone before the man realized what was coming. Without sparing a glance for the women, Elijah quickly spun about and ran toward his coach, where Wade had just reached Timmons.

“See to him,” Elijah barked at his valet as he pulled a small blade from his boot and launched himself into the coach. The flash of a knife greeted him, but he’d expected that and met the villain’s thrust with a swift parry. He caught the man’s sleeve and rent the fabric.

The villain lunged forward, driving Elijah back onto the seat and into a defensive position. The knife slashed into Elijah’s waistcoat, but didn’t reach his flesh as he managed to flatten himself back against the seat. Elijah brought his legs up and kicked the man in the gut, sending him sprawling. Then he leapt up and grabbed the man’s wrist, squeezing to force the knife from his grip.

The man howled with pain and dropped the weapon. “Don’t hurt me, my lord.”

“What do you want?” Elijah rasped. He arced forward until he knelt over the man. He held his wrist and poised his blade near the man’s throat.

The man’s gray eyes were wide with fear, and his pockmarked face was pale. “I was jes’ told to fetch a box from inside the coach.”
The tapestry.

“Who ‘told’ you this?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. Jes’ a bloke down the pub earlier.”

“Where?” Elijah pushed the word through his clenched teeth. He pressed the knife snug against the brigand’s flesh.
 

“Worcester.” The single word squeaked from the man’s lips.

“Major!” Wade’s call pulled Elijah off his captive. He didn’t relinquish his grip on the villain’s wrist however. He merely dragged the man with him as he emerged from the coach.

“What is it?” Elijah looked down the road, but the only people he could see were Miss Bowen, Grey, and their coachman rushing toward them. He turned his attention to Wade and Timmons.

“We need to get Timmons to a doctor,” Wade said.
 

“Let’s get him in the coach.” Elijah pulled the criminal out, heedless that he tumbled to the ground. “Grey, do you have a weapon you can train on this miscreant?”

She raised a pistol and pointed it at the villain. “I do, my lord.”

Elijah relinquished the quaking man to Grey’s custody and replaced the knife in his boot. He and Wade lifted the bleeding Timmons into the coach.

“Let’s take him into Leominster and find the doctor there,” Elijah said. “And we’ll turn the would-be thief in to the magistrate.”

“My lord, I beg of you to let me go.” The pitiful whine of the criminal’s voice wafted into the coach.

“Stay here with him,” Elijah directed Wade before leaving the coach once more. “I’ll take over, Grey. You ride with Wade and Timmons. Miss Bowen, if you don’t mind, I’d like your coachman to drive them. I can drive your coach.”

Elijah stripped his cravat from his neck and went to the criminal. “Turn and put our hands behind your back.”

The man whimpered as he complied. Elijah quickly bound his wrists.
 

“You’ll ride in the other coach.” He glared at the man. “Go.”
 

The criminal tripped as he started toward Miss Bowen’s vehicle.