Games of Pleasure (24 page)

THE CARRIAGE ROCKED AGAIN. SOMETHING HIT THE ROAD.

Without compunction, Miracle jabbed the pistol barrel under Lord Hanley's jaw.

The earl's fingers stiffened in place, leaving his shirt hanging from his waistband. “For God's sake! You wouldn't shoot me?”

A mad bravado soared in her heart. “Oh, I might. After all, what's one more murder, when a woman's already doomed to hang for the first? Leave your shirt alone! Keep your hands where I can see them!”

He raised his hands above his head and glared at her. “I'd never harm you.”

“You already have.”

Springs creaked as the coachman and his companions climbed down into the road.

“You refer to that business on the yacht? God! I intended—”

“Oh, hush, my lord! You would try to tell me that you were only playing games again just now, when you threatened me with your fist? Alas, I don't think the gentleman who's about to rob us is playing any games—and neither am I.”

“For God's sake, let me have the pistol! Or do you want to be raped in a hedgerow by a ruffian?”

“Since I was about to be raped in a carriage by an earl, I fail to see the difference. So I think I'll take my chances with the ruffian.”

She flung open the carriage door and jumped down into the road, though she kept her weapon pointed at the earl's chest. The three servants stood grouped in a huddle by the hedge with their hands up. The coachman's blunderbuss lay in the road, as did the firearms that had probably been carried by the other two men.

A single horseman held them all at bay with two pistols. A black scarf covered his nose and chin. Beneath the shade of his hat brim, his gaze pierced like a knife point.

His horse pranced forward and stopped beside Miracle. He leaned down to gaze at her. “You seem very concerned about keeping the gentleman in the carriage in your sights, ma'am. Are you sure you're not about to change your mind and shoot me, instead?”

“That depends,” she said, “on what your intentions are.”

“My intentions are honorable, of course: a little theft, a little entertainment.” He glanced into the carriage. “You will step down, my lord, still keeping your hands above your head. Pray, don't hesitate! My fingers are regrettably damp with nerves. Only too easy to squeeze the trigger accidentally.”

His face like thunder, Lord Hanley climbed down from his coach.

“Your watch and purse, my lord. And that pretty cravat pin? Your rings? No, pray don't reach for them.” The highwayman nodded to Miracle. “The lady will no doubt oblige. If she does not, I might shoot her, as well.”

Her heart throbbing with a dizzy madness, Miracle relieved Lord Hanley of his valuables and handed them up to the horseman. He jerked his chin. She picked up the blunderbuss and pistols and threw them over the hedge.

“Thank you, ma'am. A very pretty watch, my lord, with a chain of gold, no less! And a pleasantly heavy bag of coins!” He thrust them into his pocket, then studied the earl's cravat pin. “I do believe this is a real diamond! Which makes me wonder: Why are His Lordship's trousers not buttoned up correctly? Is his valet that incompetent? Or has he hidden something even more valuable in his underwear?”

“You already have my watch and purse and jewelry,” the earl said. “I've nothing else hidden.”

“Except evil intentions toward this lady, perhaps? You will be pleased to remove your shoes, my lord.”

Hanley's face turned black. “This is an outrage!”

“Well, so it is!” The mare backed a step as the highwayman gestured with a pistol. “You will still do it.”

The earl sneered up at the rider. “Make me, sir!”

With the cadenced moves of a dancer, the mare sidestepped to pin the earl against the carriage door. The horseman pressed the pistol barrel against Lord Hanley's temple.

“You don't know quite how close you are to losing your brains, my lord. As soon as this mare backs a step, you will do as I say.”

The mare edged back. Shaking with rage, the earl kicked off his shoes. Mud squelched beneath his stocking feet.

The highwayman's aim remained steady. “A good start, my lord! But pray don't try anything foolish! My hand is beginning to shake at my own temerity. Any sudden, untoward moves and I'm afraid this pistol will fire. Your trousers, if you please.”

His eyes glued to his tormentor, Lord Hanley snapped open his buttons. At a gesture from the highwayman he raised his hands above his head once again, and Miracle tugged his trousers down over his feet.

“Perhaps you would oblige me by checking the pockets, ma'am? Then you may toss His Lordship's shoes with his unmentionables over the hedge.”

Swallowing laughter, she did as he suggested. “There's nothing else.”

“What, no more gold? No pocket pistol?”

“Nothing.”

The horseman tipped his head. Lord Hanley's stockings were now soaked. “Perhaps your treasure is secreted in those nice linen drawers, my lord?”

“Devil take it, sir! Have you no decency?”

The highwayman laughed. “Not much! Though now that we've established that you have no hidden weapons, you may keep your undergarments. But only for the sake of the lady's outraged modesty, you understand.”

One of the menservants sniggered, then bit his lip and stared off into space.

“You, sir!” The highwayman pointed one pistol at the servant. The man snapped to attention. “You will unhitch the horses and encourage them to leave.”

A few minutes later the harnessed team careened away up the road, leaving the carriage behind.

The horseman bowed from the saddle. “So sorry to discompose you, my lord.” He gathered his reins, as if about to ride away. “May I wish you and the lady a safe journey?”

Miracle stared at him with her heart in her mouth.
He would leave her here?

The mare turned. Lord Hanley dived toward the coach and reached inside. He spun back with a pistol in his hand. Powder flashed. The mare reared. Shots reverberated in the lane. As Miracle's attention riveted on the horseman—his rearing mount, the smoking pistols in his hands—the earl whirled and hit out. The barrel of his discharged gun hit her hard on the wrist. The carriage pistol spun from her grasp.

She dived after it, but the earl rammed her aside and swooped to recover the only weapon that was still loaded. His fingers closed on the butt.

Spinning on her hind legs, the highwayman's horse knocked him aside. The earl scuttled for the safety of the coach as a shod hoof stamped down, pressing the gun into the mud. Dancing in place, the mare trampled it into uselessness. “Come, ma'am!” The rider thrust his empty pistols into his saddlebags and reached down with an open palm. “You would appear to be at odds with your protector. Why not try your chances with me?”

Her heart thundering, Miracle stretched up to grasp his hand. The highwayman swung her onto the saddle in front of him. The mare sprang forward, spraying mud as the earl's servants ran to help their master.

The highwayman galloped his mount up the lane, then turned to dive into thick woods. Hoofbeats thundered as the mare dodged fast through the trees. Darkness enveloped. Branches whipped past. Encompassed in the highwayman's sure embrace, Miracle gasped for breath, then laughed.

They came out onto another road, then cantered across a field to pick up a narrow track that led them at last to a towpath. It was almost entirely dark now. The canal reflected a scattering of stars in a surface like ink. Miracle clung to the saddle as they thundered on into the night, then scrambled up a bank into another lane. At last the horse dropped to a walk.

Framed at the end of the hedgerows, Polaris shimmered like a faint white diamond in the northern sky, where Ursa Major, Cassiopeia, Cepheus, and Draco marked the seasons with their stately dance. Miracle tipped her head back into a warm, broad shoulder. More brilliant still, yellow Arcturus and luminous Vega marked the summer heavens high above like a blessing.

The night air washed over her face and eased deep into her lungs, carrying a poignant, bittersweet knowledge. She was rescued and in the same moment entrapped again. But surely her rescuer must now realize the reality of their relationship?

The mare arched her neck and pranced as if she were playing.

“I told you I might need a decent horse,” Ryder said. “Are you all right?”

“I'm a great deal better for your rescue. Thank you.”

His arm tightened around her waist. “Did Hanley hurt you?”

“No, though he was thinking about it. But didn't you notice? I had the pistol.”

“Yes, I noticed and I'm very glad.”

Miracle relaxed back against the warmth of his body and tried to dismiss her misgivings. “Though it was a close run thing—”

He seemed exuberant, filled with masculine power. “If I thought he'd laid a hand on you against your will, I'd ride back right now to beat him to death.”

“Beat him to death?” Before she completely unraveled, she reached for levity. “You couldn't simply shoot him?”

“I've already emptied both pistols.”

“Ah, the holes in his coach!”

His sudden laugh eased her heart. “When he took those shots at me, I was very tempted to further wound his self-importance, I admit. But since his aim went so wide of the mark, I let mine puncture his carriage door, instead. Those grand crests are very expensive to replace.”

“Which will annoy Lord Hanley no end.”

“That was—partly—the idea.”

Miracle smiled up at him. She wanted to make amends to him for his stunning generosity, recover something of his mirth and his quixotic gallantry, whatever the cost to her heart.

“Stand and deliver?”

His dark eyes met hers. “Devil take it, I've wanted to say that ever since I was a boy.”

“But to make the earl strip off his trousers and shoes, so he stood in his shirttails! How could you?”

He laughed again. “I was angry enough, in truth, to do a great deal more than that. However, my primary motivation was simply to delay his pursuit. Though his team is probably no more than a quarter mile up the road, it'll take time for Hanley to recover everything that you threw over that hedge.”

Her personal misgivings paled in comparison to another reality. Miracle forced herself to voice it. “Yet he'll have the hue and cry out after Beauty, and she's very easy to recognize.”

“Unquestionably. Even with my disguise, he must have known it was me.”

“And his servants were witnesses to everything that happened. I know no one can touch a duke's son, not even for highway robbery, but surely it would still prove awkward?”

“If Hanley did anything other than demanding satisfaction over this escapade, he'd be a laughingstock. Yet it's a problem, of course, since—though I did my damnedest to make it look as if you were innocent of complicity—capital charges can still be pinned on you.”

“Yes, and for previous crimes, as well as for aiding and abetting a highwayman.” She shuddered as she remembered the earl's eyes. “You've saved me for now, Ryder, but we really should part company before Lord Hanley—”

“Nonsense!” he interrupted. “I don't give a damn for Hanley, and he has to catch us first.”

“Then I surrender to your superior judgment.”

Miracle said it lightly, but perhaps she really meant it. She was so tired of fighting: for survival, for trying to keep intact a core of compassion that was too often proffered in vain. All of her adult life she had struggled to protect the vulnerable emotions of some men, while suffering the callous disregard of others: something that Lord Ryderbourne, with his honor and gallantry, could never understand.

“Excellent,” he said. “Then my judgment is that we travel on together for now, and devil take the hindmost.”

She took a deep breath. “Where we are? We seem to be heading due north.”

“Physically we're somewhere in Shropshire, I believe, though I've no idea where else you and I may be.”

“Ah!” She glanced up at him. “So it comes to that!”

His gaze searched her face, as if he sought answers to a problem he could barely articulate. “I should have remembered that you never make love unless you want something. And thus I awoke to a fretting horse and nothing but another memory. Should I be annoyed at your flighty habits, or flattered to be the recipient of your professional attentions yet again?”

Her heart began to beat heavily, as if with an awareness that none of the answers she might ever give him would be enough. “If it's your choice to pursue, may it not be mine to flee?”

“Not when you fall straight into the hands of your persecutor.”

She stared blindly at the sky and tried to strip her voice of emotion. “You're trying to protect a harlot who's murdered a gentleman. It's an endeavor that's bound to fail. Perhaps I wish to avoid your further entanglement in that inevitable final reckoning.”

“What if I've decided the entanglement is worth it?”

“It's not.”

“That's my decision to make.” His voice had cooled, also, though obviously that control cost him some effort. “Though you used your seductive skills only to escape me, I can hardly claim not to have enjoyed them.”

“Then I've been pursuing the wrong strategy, for now my debts to my knight errant are getting so deep that they can never be repaid.”

“There are no debts.” His arm tensed. The heat of his buried rage scorched over her body. “After all, you've been paying as you go.”

The mare broke into a trot, heading uphill toward the stars, then back down into a hollow where a ford slicked like black ink over the road.