Bronwyn Scott's Sexy Regency Bundle (152 page)

Chapter Eleven

they stopped for a short lunch in the afternoon the next day, Julia begged to ride up on top with Paine.

She'd had enough of being cooped inside with a snoring coachman. The man had driven through the night for them and deserved his rest. Julia wasn't convinced, however, that it entitled him to expose her to such a noise.

She was also convinced that they'd eluded Oswalt.

There were only two hours to go until they arrived at Dursley. The fear that had formed a continual in

her stomach since London was starting to unravel.

Julia was contemplating the pleasure of a hot bath and cooked food when the shot rang out. Julia screamed.

Shards of lacquered wood grazed her cheek from the impact of a bullet piercing the side of the coach. The horses whinnied in fright, galloping recklessly down the rutted road, dragging the coach behind them. The strength of Paine's arms were the only between

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the horses and certain doom if the carriage veered into the ditch. At this speed, even a shallow ditch would cause the vehicle to flip, flinging its occupants to imminent injury or death.

'Julia, how many are there?' Paine shouted over the jangle of the coach, all his attention focused on keeping the coach on the road, on keeping them alive.

Julia clutched the seat rail and hazarded a quick backwards glance. 'Four.'

'Get down ! Paine shouted as another shot rang out.

'Julia, listen to me. We'll have to stop the team. I can't hold them for ever; if they keep running, it's only a matter of time before a corner is too sharp or we hit a rut. At this speed, we die most assuredly. When I stop the coach, you get down and run for the trees. Just keep running. Stay under cover and keep your sense of direction. You'll run into Dursley Hall.'

'Where will you be?'

'Here, fighting them off. Then I'll catch up.'

'Four men?'

'Don't fight with me over this, Julia. It's you they want. The last thing I need is to have my concentration divided between you and them. I can't fight you both.

It only takes one man to swing you up on his horse and ride off while the other three keep me busy.'

Paine sawed hard on the reins, bringing the frightened team to a stop. 'Go, Julia!'

Julia tumbled over the side and ran for the woods, hoping Paine was right and that no one had seen her yet.

With luck, Oswalt's men would assume she was inside

Scott

the carriage. The shots that had been fired hadn't necessarily been aimed at the driver.

Julia gained the thick copse that grew near the road side, worry for Paine filling her.
The shots had been
aimed at Paine.
Julia's hand flew to her cheek where the wood shards had scratched it. At a distance and with the blur of motion, the men had no way of knowing Paine was the driver. They'd assume Paine was in the coach with her and, as the gentleman, he'd be riding with his back to the box, facing backwards.

Paine's words came back to her.
You're the one they
want.
That had made logical sense. Oswalt wouldn't want her dead. He needed her definitely alive. But Paine was expendable and, given their history, perhaps it was even preferable that Paine was dead.

She turned to look back. One man lay still on the ground, probably from Paine's single pistol shot before he'd got too close. Another grappled with Paine on the narrow box seat. Paine drew back his arm delivered

a debilitating punch to the man's jaw, sending him staggering off the edge. But two men remained and they'd had time to get into position. One of them had drawn a knife.

Julia watched in horror as they dragged Paine off the high seat, one of them swiping at Paine with the blade.

The trio hit the ground, Paine rolling free of the punches they threw. He reached swiftly into his boot to withdraw his

He crouched, arms held wide, ready to fight, but he was already bleeding. In the close confines of the box seat, the blade had found purchase.

Julia could see a slow stain forming on his arm-the

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right arm that held his knife. The steel blade Paine possessed suddenly seemed inadequate to her. How could such a thin piece of steel keep those burly men at bay?

How long would Paine's wounded arm hold out? Where was the coachman? Surely he hadn't slept through all the commotion and the bone-j

ride? He should be

out there, helping Paine.

One man moved and Paine stabbed with his The man danced away. The other one feinted, drawing Paine's attention. Julia bit her knuckles. This could go on for ever and, if it did, Paine would come out the loser.

Julia glanced around and picked up some rocks, an idea taking shape. Decisively, she ripped the silk gown, tearing it above her knees. Now she could run and, now, thanks to summers spent roaming the estate with Cousin Gray, she had a weapon.

Julia crept quietly to the edge of the trees, careful to stay hidden so that a flash of colour from her vibrant gown didn't give her away. She was close enough to recognise one of the men as the man from the club and close enough to hear the ragged banter exchanged between the men and Paine.