Madcap Miss (9 page)

“Hmm,” said Ashton, not interested in praise. “I am going to take Miss Felicia indoors and attend to the poor girl inside.” So saying and with his usual flair for taking charge, he had Felicia’s willing hand as he led her to the cottage.

Immediately inside they saw on a trestle bed in the corner of the cottage nearest the small stone fireplace a dark wool blanket thrown over and covering someone.

Felicia rushed over and pulled away the blanket to reveal a young woman, gagged and bound at her wrists and ankles.

Felicia gasped and said as she pulled out the girl’s gag, “Oh, my poor dear … faith … oh, but it is over. Yes, you have nothing to fear any longer. We have it all under control.” Then as the girl began to cry, she helped her into a sitting position and hugged her as she patted her back and offered, “There, there. I have no idea why the words ‘there, there’ should make it all better, but it is what my father would say whenever I cried.”

The girl choked on a giggle and sobbed and then giggled again as she surveyed Felicia with the prettiest dark eyes Felicia had ever seen. She could see that she wasn’t a child but a young woman, much her own age, with a mass of (at the moment) messy tawny locks. Those locks, she thought, when brushed would be glorious around the girl’s piquant heart-shaped face. She asked to steady the woman as much as to know, “What is your name?”

The young woman gave her a tremulous smile, took a long gulp of air, and said, “Thank you. I can’t imagine how you found me. I am …” And with that she burst into tears once more.

It was no wonder, Felicia thought, as the young woman sported a black eye and a welt across her cheek. Her lips were parched, and Felicia had a sudden urge to go outdoors and pummel the two scoundrels Ashton had secured.

She turned to Ashton, who was at her side, and saw that he had already found a knife and was cutting the young woman free of the torturous ropes that cruelly bound her and left marks on her wrists.

“Oh dear … your skin is raw,” Felicia muttered distressfully. “We must get you to a doctor and have some salve applied. Are you in a great deal of pain? Can you walk, do you think …?”

The girl’s dark lashes fluttered as she controlled her tears, sniffed, swiped at them with a finger, and said, “Yes, yes, of course.” She put a hand to her head for a moment and groaned as she attempted to stand and sank back down.

“Oh, no, oh … sir, what is to be done?” Felicia cried, much upset.

“Would I frighten you, child, if I held you steady?” Ashton asked softly.

“No, I thank you, that is very kind,” the girl said in a small voice.

“What is your name?” Felicia gently tried again.

“Rebecca Wilson,” the young woman said and cringed as she stood and Ashton held her upright. She had been manhandled, and she was bruised all over her poor, thin body. Her gown was torn, and Felicia hurriedly put the blanket around her shoulders and held it in place.

Ashton soothingly said, “That’s a brave girl, that’s right. You’ll feel better for it once you’ve stretched your legs.” He looked at Felicia, who was frowning as she helped hold the woman up. “Felicia, we will need a carriage,” Ashton said on a frown.

“Indeed,” Felicia agreed. “She can’t ride.”

“Oh, but I think I can,” Rebecca said and winced once again as she moved.

“No, no, you cannot,” Felicia said firmly and brightened to tell Ashton, “They had a wagon—where would they have left it when they rode off?”

“They left the wagon in the back … I heard them talking, and they said they were going to leave it in the old barn out back. Then they shoved me in the cabin, so I can’t say for sure if they did or not,” Rebecca offered.

“I’ll go see—” Felicia started off excitedly.

“You will not!” Ashton said roughly. “Stay here with Miss Wilson, and I will bring the wagon around if it is there.” He led Rebecca to a chair at the table and saw her seated before he arched a challenging glance at Felicia, who grinned and put up her hands.

“Very well,” Felicia said as she watched him go. She then turned to Rebecca and said, “Oh, I do hope it is there, as you certainly don’t need to ride a horse just now.”

Rebecca released a shaky laugh. “Well, I would hope I wouldn’t have to take any fences, but I do think I could ride if I had to.”

“Good girl, pluck to the backbone, Scott would say,” Felicia said to encourage her.

“Oh, and who is this Scott?” Rebecca asked curiously. “Your beau?”

“
Ha,
no. A dear friend, but that is another story altogether,” Felicia said and then frowned to pursue, “You have been very ill-used, Rebecca Wilson and have a great deal of spirit. Only tell me what this was all about.”

She shook her head. “I know they wanted money from my father …” Her voice trailed off as she sighed heavily and touched her shoulder with a wince.

Felicia didn’t press her and inquired, “Bruised there as well?”

“A bit all over, I suppose,” Rebecca said putting on a brave smile.

Ashton stuck his head in at that moment and said, “I have the wagon and the cob outside.”

Felicia helped the young woman to her feet, but it was at that moment the magistrate arrived and looked past Ashton to exclaim, “Zounds! Miss Rebecca. Upon my soul. Never say it was you those brutes abducted? Your poor father must be beside himself.”

Rebecca Wilson’s smile was faint, and Felicia frowned in concern for her. The young woman inclined her head and said softly, “Indeed, but perhaps the sooner we leave, the sooner his concerns may be put to rest … thanks to all of you.”

“Indeed, indeed.” The magistrate looked towards Ashton. “Will you two be taking Miss Wilson home? It is some distance,” he asked worriedly.

“We will first take Miss Wilson to the inn where we are staying so that she may freshen up and be comfortable until her father can come for her in a suitable conveyance,” Ashton said firmly. “I don’t think she should travel a distance in an open wagon, especially as she must be in some discomfort.”

Felicia found Ashton’s cool air of command so very welcome. She simply knew he would do what was best. He had all the answers all the time, and she smiled warmly at him and said, “You are quite brilliant.”

He returned the smile, and the magistrate looked as though a weight had been removed from his shoulders as he said, “Good, good. I will rely on you in that matter then.”

Ashton and Felicia exchanged glances and then walked Miss Wilson to the wagon and saw her comfortably seated.

Felicia turned to Ashton then and said, “What of those two blackguards that are still loose?”

“Oh, I am certain they are well away, but no doubt the magistrate will put about inquiries after them.”

“Hmm. I hope so. They need to be brought to justice, and besides, I don’t like the notion that they are still out and about.”

He touched her arm and said, “Don’t worry about them, my sweet. I mean to set about my own inquiries as well.”

“Then they are as good as caught,” Felicia said on a soft laugh as she watched him tether their horses at the back of the wagon, climb onto it, and pick up the reins.

He winked at her, and she felt a shiver of emotion rush through her.

Oh, but what was that she was feeling? It was as though her day, even with all this adventure, would have been an empty day had he not been in it.

~ Ten ~

THE MAIN PIKE was reached, and although the old cob could do no more than lumber along it was a steady pace, and as Felicia kept up a lively stream of conversation with Miss Wilson, the time passed.

Ashton could not help but notice that Felicia was able to keep Miss Wilson’s spirits up with her banter and her anecdotes. He smiled to himself. He had never met anyone quite like Felicia. She was a diamond.

As they pulled into the inn, Miss Wilson blushed and said, “Oh dear … I can’t walk into a public house like … well … my clothes are torn … I am covered in dirty … my hair.”

“Oh,” said Felicia, smiling brightly, “you are feeling better. Don’t concern yourself, Rebecca, Mr. Ashton will see to it. He can manage anything.”

Ashton smiled to himself. Felicia seemed to have a very high opinion of his abilities. Well then, he couldn’t allow otherwise, could he? He drove the wagon directly to the livery, where he pulled the old cob to a halt, put on the brake, and nimbly jumped down from the wagon.

“Come, Miss Wilson. Felicia will take you into the inn through a back door.” He eyed Felicia. “You know the one I mean, just aside from the kitchen … and directly up to your room. I shall have a bath drawn for her in the meantime and a boy sent to fetch Miss Wilson’s father. It is Squire Wilson, is it not?”

“Yes, of Banker Grange,” Rebecca answered softly as she gave him her hand. He helped steady her before Felicia took hold of her.

He bowed himself off, and Felicia heard him as she steered Rebecca off, giving orders in the background. She sighed contentedly. He was so ever capable of anything.

“Oh, Felicia,” Rebecca said as they got inside unnoticed and moved towards the stairs. “You have been wonderful. I have quite forgotten my body is nearly broken.”

“Tosh, broken indeed. Bruised and battered but dashed well strong. In fact, another woman would be swooning and carrying on. You are made of sturdy stuff.” Felicia encouraged her as they stared at the long steps before them. She was secretly worried about getting her charge up those steps.

“I shall forever be in yours and Mr. Ashton’s debt,” Rebecca said gravely. “You put yourself at jeopardy for me … a stranger. How can I ever repay you?”

“Such nonsense. I have only known you less than an hour but am already certain you would have done the same had you been in my situation.” She eyed her new friend comically and said, “And now that we are friends, you may be sorry, for I may call on you for help one day.”

They both laughed at this, and Rebecca said softly, “Still, you are quite remarkable, and since
we are
friends, you must call me Becky.”

“Then, you shall call me what my very dearest friend in all the world calls me—Flip. No one else does.”

* * *

It was an hour later that saw Felicia helping Becky into one of the day gowns Ashton had purchased for her. It was a bit too short for Becky, as she was a good three inches taller than Felicia, but she looked well considering all her bruises and after her hot bath said she felt a good deal refreshed.

Felicia had washed up, and in her pretty lace shirt and still wearing her black riding skirt, she helped Becky back towards the stairs. However, Scott, who was out of bed and standing in his britches and shirtsleeves in his doorway, called out, “What the deuce is going on? And who is your friend, Flip?”

Ashton came up the stairs at that moment and clucked his tongue. “What the devil are you doing out of bed, young man?”

“Had to stretch my legs, sir, and getting restless. The doctor came by and said I was on the mend. Don’t see the harm, Besides, I was hoping to catch Flip and hear her version of your adventure—had some from one of the servants.”

Felicia pulled Becky forward, as her new friend had hung back and tried using her as a shield.

Felicia laughed, for she realized and understood that Becky was shy of meeting Scott while she sported a black eye and a red welt on her face. She said encouragingly, “Nothing to worry about, Becky, ’tis only Scott.”

She went on and introduced him to her new charge and noticed that while Becky stared for a moment, she immediately lowered her eyes and found something on the hardwood flooring that held her attention.

Scott’s voice was outraged when he said, “Did the blackguards do that to you! Damn their ugly souls.” He turned to Ashton. “Sir … we must see them hanged for this.”

Ashton nodded gravely. “They will I believe suffer for this day’s work, never fear.”

“Good,” Scott said.

Becky put a hand to her face as though covering it from view, and Scott told her, “Do forgive me, Miss Wilson, but I have to tell you that I have never seen anyone look as good as you do with a black eye.”

Felicia rapped him lightly on his hand. “What about the time I fell out of the tree and had a black eye for a week?”

He laughed. “No … Miss Wilson’s black eye is prettier.”

Becky laughed and put up her hand. “Enough, please.”

Felicia laughed, but it suddenly caught in her throat. She was an observant person, and at that moment she noted that Scott was gazing raptly at her new friend.

This grabbed Felicia’s attention as nothing else would.

Here was her lifelong friend, who had never really been in the petticoat line, positively taken with her new friend. It was all too obvious to her, for she knew him so well, that he couldn’t take his eyes off Becky. She was for a moment astonished as she watched him stare at Becky, gulp, and then as he moved a step without putting attention into it, nearly trip over himself.

His left arm was in a sling, and Felicia had supposed the doctor had constructed this to keep Scott from using it since the wound was directly beneath his shoulder. He paid his sling no mind but used his left hand as he bowed over Becky’s hand and told her, “Miss Wilson, I am and will be your obedient servant for anything you might need.”

Felicia was overcome by this and burst out laughing. He glared at her and returned his attention to Becky. “Miss Wilson.” He nodded to Felicia and Ashton. “Do come in and be comfortable, as I did promise not to leave my room for another day.”

Becky hesitated, and she glanced at Felicia. He hurriedly added, “Flip, bring her in, see her seated. Let’s not keep her standing after the ordeal she has been through.”

Felicia acquiesced with this and saw Becky seated inside Scott’s room, turned, and eyed Scott for a moment. “There, are you happy, sir?” Her brow was up, and her eyes glittered a dare at him.

Scott ignored her and said, “Now, I have some of the story. Do, someone, give me the rest.”

Felicia was so taken by the fact that Scott was completely enthralled with her new friend. She sat watching because he was unable to break away his gaze from Becky’s face.

She had odd sensations shoot through her as this fact sank in. She was amused, she was pleased, and she was certainly just a bit jealous. Why she should be jealous was something she couldn’t answer. She was not interested in Scott romantically, and yet, for a moment, she saw the future, and the future no longer belonged to who and what they had been to each other. She felt a sudden sadness overtake her. Life would change now.

This mood was soon dispelled by Ashton, who said, “Scott, you are looking fagged to death. I think we should leave you to have some rest.”

“No, you don’t. Of all the paltry things,” Scott said.

Ashton grinned and left them then; when he returned, his reappearance took all of Felicia’s attention, and she found herself staring at him. She sucked in her lips as his lips occupied her attention. What was wrong with her?

He had arrived with a warm smile for her and quietly told them that they might have a bit of a wait as Miss Wilson’s father, the squire, was not found at home. The livery boy had returned to say one of his staff had gone in search of him, for the good squire was out with a group of his friends all bent on finding his daughter.

“Oh dear, poor Papa,” Becky cried, and Scott bent out of his chair to pat her arm.

Softly he told her, “They will find him, and before you know it he will know you are safe. Those scoundrels will be nothing more than a bad memory.”

Felicia’s jaw dropped. He was playing the gentleman so well. Was he always the collected, concerned gentleman she presently was watching, or had his sudden concern for Becky brought it out of him? She was more than a little astonished and turned to find Ashton looking at her with an amused twinkle in his eyes.

“What, sir?”

“Am I forever going to hear only ‘sir’ when you address me?” he asked impatiently, ignoring her question as he pulled a wooden chair up and sat.

She felt a blush fill her cheeks. “What then shall I call you?”

“Glen. I have been dearly wishing to hear my name on your lips,” he said softly.

Her breath hitched in her throat. She met his gaze head-on, and they remained locked in that gaze for a moment. She felt her heart thumping and was recalled to order by Scott, who demanded, “Well? Come on, Flip. Who if not you will tell me what happened and how you became embroiled in the ugly business?”

“What? Oh … well, yes, there I was out for a bit of a ride, and it was the veriest chance that I heard them.”

“Ah, eavesdropping is something she does very well,” Scott announced with a chuckle.

“Disagreeable boy, do you want to know or do you not?” she countered.

“Do go on,” Ashton said on a short laugh, “for I too, would like to know how you came upon the scoundrels.”

Slightly mollified, though casting a warning glare at Scott, Felicia continued. “Right then, so there I was already off my horse checking Whiley, as he had thrown a shoe, when I heard and saw something that did not feel right. I was quickly very sure something havey-cavey was about, you see …”

“Havey-cavey?” Ashton laughed. “You have that term from Scott here, no doubt?”

She frowned darkly at the two men bent on teasing her. “I do, but if everyone will keep interrupting me I shall lose my way and not be able to tell you anything more at all.”

Ashton put up his hands, and Scott barked a laugh to say, “That won’t fadge, girl—not one bit. You want to tell us your part as much as we want to hear it.”

She narrowed her eyes and wagged a finger but said, “So there I was. Those villains had … slapped brave Becky, and, well …” She gave Becky an encouraging smile. “I had no choice but to follow the blackguards.”

“Of course,” Ashton said with a grimace, “with no thought to yourself.”

“I know how to keep out of sight.” Felicia put up her chin. “So, I did what needed to be done. I followed them. Then all at once, there was Mr. Ash—” She noted that Ashton’s brow was up and corrected herself. “Glen, who had apparently followed me.” She rounded on him and demanded, “Which is something I have been wondering about?”

He inclined his head and said softly, “Indeed. I saw you walk to the stables and thought to catch up and ride with you.”

She dimpled and said, “Oh.” She turned back to Scott. “Well, once Ashton … er … Glen arrived, I knew everything would work out right and tight.”

“Did you, my dear?” Ashton said softly, and again when their eyes met she felt a glow rush through her body.

“Scott,” Felicia said as she tried to compose herself, “on the ride over here when I told Becky how much we love to hunt, she told me that her father has taken her up to hunt the Quorn a few times over the years!”

This so impressed Scott that his mouth dropped open. “Never say so? Upon my word, you hunt the Quorn, Miss Wilson?”

Becky nodded shyly, and Felicia laughed. “There, you see? He is mad about hunting. Has always talked about going north to do so.” She turned to Ashton and asked, “Have you ever hunted the Quorn, sir?”

“You and Miss Wilson are already on first names. Would that my name would come as easily to your lips,” Ashton said in an aside and then added a bit louder, “Indeed, I have hunted the Quorn often.”

Felicia eyed him and instead of replying to this, said, “I should like to do so one time, but right now I am famished. When do you think we may have some food?”

“Indeed,” Ashton said quietly and as he had bent close to her ear, only for her ear, “I am I find more famished every minute that passes.”

She eyed him saucily, for he was flirting outrageously with her and she quite liked it. “Ah, then I say we must eat … at once.” The tease was in her eyes, and she was encouraged by the smoldering look he gave her.

Scott and Becky had already entered a lively discussion about the many exciting differences of hunting the Quorn and paid them little heed as Ashton took Felicia’s hand and slipped it through his bent arm and led her towards the door.

“Do you two join us?” he said languidly over his shoulder.

“Not Scott, he needs his rest,” Felicia said worriedly.

“Pon rep, what, do you mean to starve a man of food and company?” Scott objected.

“You promised.” Felicia wagged a free finger.

“I think a meal will do him good,” Ashton said.

Scott, who had been reclining in his chair, hurried to his feet and as he winced with the sudden movement Becky immediately put a hand to his good arm and said, “Oh, sir … are you all right?”