Authors: Suzanne Enoch
The coach lurched as the road beneath them became steadily more rutted. Finally they rocked to a halt, and Randolph jumped down from his perch to pull the door open. Dunfrey gestured with the pistol. “Please follow my coachman, Bancroft. Maddie, you’re to stay right behind him.”
With a last, angry glance at their captor, Rafe jumped to the ground. Maddie followed, her long skirt catching on the carriage steps and nearly tripping her. The sun was already behind the tall elms to the west, and in both directions the muddy, rutted road was empty of other travelers. Directly before them stood a small inn, a single lantern hanging above a bench by the dark, scarred door.
They seemed to have the inn completely to themselves. The coachman led them into the deserted common room, which at least had a fire going in the stone fireplace. Obviously someone had lit the fire, thank goodness, and Maddie looked about for a friendly innkeeper—or at least, one who could be bribed.
The man who walked in through the kitchen door, though, with a tray of bread and fruit in his arms, didn’t look the least bit friendly. He also looked extremely familiar. Maddie blanched, stopping in her tracks, and Dunfrey ran into her from behind, the muzzle of the pistol bruising her spine.
“Ouch! That hurt.”
“Sit down,” he grumbled.
“But—”
“Sit down in the chair there, Maddie, before I find a more accommodating position for you,” Charles said in a darker voice, and pushed her toward the chair set before the fireplace.
Maddie did as he said, her eyes on the tall gentleman setting the food down on the table. He turned to face her and smiled.
“Good evening, Maddie. Haven’t seen you for a while. You look more lovely than ever.”
“Spenser, that’s right, you know Maddie,” Charles said more amiably, sitting at the long wooden table, “and this, unfortunately, is Rafael Bancroft. Don’t worry, we’ll kill him before we move on.”
Benjamin Spenser eyed Rafael as the coachman dragged another chair over beside Maddie’s. “Bancroft, as in the Duke of Highbarrow’s kin?”
“Pleased to meet you,” Rafael said, and held out his hand. “You’re Benjamin Spenser, I presume? The ass who ruined Maddie?”
“Sit down,” he ordered, picking up a coil of rope from the bench. “I’ve no objection to killing anyone, Dunfrey, but you think splitting a thousand quid is worth the risk of murdering a Bancroft?”
Charles glanced up at him. “It’s twice that now.”
Rafael snorted. Dunfrey rose and hit him hard across the face with the pistol. Rafael grunted and fell backward into the chair. Charles leaned over him. “I’d kill you for nothing, Bancroft.”
“Charles, stop it!” Maddie protested, shooting to her feet. He shoved her back down into the chair.
She looked from her former betrothed to the man who had ruined her. Now that she saw them together, and
now that she’d realized how highly Charles valued her dowry, quite a few things made sense.
“Why so sour-faced, Maddie?” Charles cajoled, while Randolph and Spenser tied Rafe to the chair before he could regain his senses.
“You never cared for me at all, did you?” she said quietly, unable to keep the bitterness from her voice. “All you wanted was money for marrying me. As much of it as you could get.”
“Why else would I want to marry you?” Dunfrey asked, finally dropping the pistol in one of his coat pockets. “Though I have to admit, if I’d known what you’d end up looking like, I might have been willing to settle for slightly less currency.”
“It’s a bit late to try flattering me, you ape,” she retorted.
Spenser moved behind her with another stout section of rope, and Maddie tensed again. Balling her fist, she surged to her feet and slugged Charles Dunfrey in the chin as hard as she could.
Not expecting the blow, Dunfrey rocked backward and lost his balance. He gripped the edge of the table, blinking. Attempting to take advantage of his momentary surprise, Maddie crashed into him, and they both fell to the floor.
She grabbed for his pocket, trying to recapture the pistol, but he threw her off. She landed hard on her back, the breath knocked out of her. With a curse Dunfrey pounced on her, pinning her by the shoulders with his hands and the weight of his body on top of her.
“This gives me an idea,” he snarled, blood welling from a cut lip. Shoving his knee between her legs, he leaned down and kissed her wetly.
“Dunfrey!” Rafael roared, pulling against the ropes that bound him securely to the chair. The coachman gagged him with a rag.
“I warned you not to push me, Maddie,” Charles continued. Laying his body harder against her, he kissed her again.
It was foul, wet, and disgusting. And, even worse, she could feel his growing arousal between their bodies. “Get off me,” she demanded frantically.
Spenser knelt at her head and grabbed her flailing hands. He grinned down at her. “Share and share alike, I always say,” he leered, pinning her arms above her shoulders.
The last of her anger slid into pure fear as Charles, his hands free now, ripped at the front of her dress. “Future husbands first,” he said, licking her neck.
The door burst open. “That would be me,” Quin snarled, white-faced and disheveled.
“Quin!” Maddie sobbed, relieved.
Quin leaped at Dunfrey. Twisting, Maddie grabbed Spenser’s ankle as he scrambled to his feet, sending him sprawling. Dunfrey toppled off of her as Quin plowed into him with a furious growl.
The coachman standing behind Rafe looked as though he didn’t know what to do, so Maddie yanked off one of her shoes and hurled it at him. It struck him in the shoulder and he jumped, then broke and ran for the door.
She tried to grab Spenser again, but he regained his feet and dived into the fight. Realizing she wouldn’t be of much assistance to Quin against the two big men, Maddie scrambled over to Rafe to untie him. One wrist was already bloody, and the knots were slick and tight. “Stop pulling, or I’ll never get you loose,” she snapped, and he relaxed his arms a little.
Finally she had him free. He yanked the gag off and slammed into Spenser, knocking him away from Quin and Dunfrey.
Trying to recover her breath, Maddie staggered to her
feet. As she watched in horror, Dunfrey scrambled away from Quin and dug into his coat pocket for the pistol. Her frantic gaze lit on the discarded cane, and she snatched it up.
Dunfrey stood and leveled the pistol at Quin. With a shriek, Maddie pulled the rapier free and stabbed it into Dunfrey’s back. “
No!
”
Charles swung around and hit her in the face with the pistol, knocking her hard to the floor. Blurrily, she saw Quin grab the weapon and shove Dunfrey away from her. And then the Duke of Highbarrow, together with a dozen footmen, burst into the room, weapons drawn.
Maddie shut her eyes as the room spun drunkenly. Then someone knelt beside her and lifted her into his arms. “Maddie,” Quin breathed, his voice shaking. “Maddie, can you hear me? Open your eyes.”
She looked up into his beautiful jade gaze. Breathing a sigh of relief, he pulled her tightly against his chest. Maddie wrapped her arms around his neck, buried her face in his shoulder, and began to sob. “Quin,” she said, over and over again. “Oh, Quin.”
“Shh,” he murmured into her hair. “It’s all right. You’re all right, Maddie.”
“She’s not hurt, is she?”
The muscles across Quin’s back tensed, and she looked up to see Rafael squatting down beside them, though there seemed to be two or three of him. “No, I’m fine, Rafael. Really.”
“Excuse us,” Quin said brusquely, and lifted her in his arms. With a warning glance at the Duke of Highbarrow, who actually stepped aside, he carried her outside into the moonlit darkness. He sat on the bench beneath the lantern, and cradled her like a babe. “Why did you leave, Maddie?” he asked quietly. “You said you would wait for me.”
She tried to focus her eyes on his lean face. “I’ve
been enough trouble, Quin. Don’t you understand, you and Eloise—”
“Eloise and I are nothing,” he interrupted fiercely. “I have already told her my intentions. What about you and Rafael?”
She furrowed her brow. “What about us?”
“You were going with him to Gretna Green.”
The muddiness in her head cleared a little. “No, we weren’t. Charles was kidnaping me for my dowry. Rafe found out, and came to rescue me.”
Quin glanced back toward the open doorway. “Some rescue,” he said grudgingly. He looked back at her, holding her gaze for a long time as he stroked her cheek with gentle fingers. “Do you love me, Maddie?” he asked softly.
“Quin, I—”
He shook his head. “Do you love me?”
A tear ran down her cheek. “Of course I love you,” she whispered.
Quin closed his eyes for just a moment. “Then marry me.
“I can’t. I’m ruined. Twice now.”
“At least,” he smiled, and leaned down to kiss her softly on the lips. “Marry me.”
“You came after me,” she said, for the first time realizing exactly what had happened. “You came after me!” The dark, lonely knot in her chest finally broke apart and melted away.
“Of course I did. I love you.”
“No, that’s not what I mean,” she argued, wishing the dull ache in her head would go away so she could speak coherently. “No one came after me the last time.” She started crying again. “But you came.”
He looked at her for a long time, his expression unreadable, then gathered her up and stood again. “That settles that, Miss Willits.”
“Settles what?” she asked, twining her hands in his lapels and wondering that he could lift her so easily.
Quin walked back into the inn, Maddie still in his arms. “Your Grace,” he said, and the duke turned from glowering at his captives to eye his son.
“What is it now, boy?”
“Maddie and I are continuing on to Gretna Green.”
His Grace’s face reddened. “You are not—”
“Do whatever the hell you want with your titles and your land and your heirs,” Quin interrupted, and turned on his heel. “Tell mother we’ll see her in London next week.”
“Quin,” Maddie said, “you’ve gone mad! Put me down!”
“Want company?” Rafe asked, hopping down from the table where he’d been perched.
“No.”
“Do you realize what a scandal there’ll be?” the duke bellowed, striding after them. “Your wedding to Eloise has already been announced. King George is going to attend!”
Quin stopped and turned around. “Father, I leave it to you to do what you will. In case I haven’t made it clear, I don’t care. I’ve been respectable my entire life, and I’ve discovered something about it.”
“And what might that be?” the duke asked, his skeptical expression melting into concern as he realized his son wasn’t bluffing.
“It’s very dull. I’m tired of it.” With a last glance at Rafael, Quin turned and headed them out the door again. “I’ll see you in a week,” he called over his shoulder.
For once, Maddie didn’t know what to say. Quin Bancroft had always been a good-humored, reasonable man—but at the moment, she wouldn’t have been surprised if he had decided to travel to Gretna Green on
foot, carrying her the entire way. “Quin?” she said quietly.
“Hush. No more arguments. You’re far too stubborn, so I’m simply not going to listen to you.” He lifted her into Charles’s coach. A moment later her valise followed her. A moment after that, Quin himself stepped in, and closed the door.
“Might I ask if anyone is going to drive us, or are we to sit here in the yard all night?” she ventured.
He sat beside her, tugging her close against him so she could rest her aching head on his shoulder. “I recruited Franklin. It seems he’s rather fond of you.”
“Yes, he’s very nice,” she agreed, closing her eyes as he wrapped a warm arm about her shoulders. “Remind me to check his bandages tomorrow.”
“Yes, love.” The coach jolted into motion, and Quin cursed. “You came all this way in this hell-sprung hack?”
“My bottom is sore,” she confessed drowsily.
“I’ll take care of it at the next town,” he murmured into her hair.
“My bottom?”
Quin chuckled. “The coach. And your bottom, if I have anything to say about it.”
With a supreme effort, Maddie managed to open one eye. “You can’t marry me, Quin.”
“I told you that I am not discussing that subject with you,” he retorted. “Go to sleep.”
“But I’ll be an embarrassment,” she protested. “You’re going to be the Duke of Highbarrow, for heaven’s sake.”
“I wouldn’t wager money on that,” he returned, his voice amused. “Maddie, you are more precious to me than anything on this earth, including my title. If I have to be Quin Bancroft to marry you, then I will happily become him. We could raise pigs.”
“You can’t do that. Everything is planned out for you. You have everything.”
“I want only you.” He tilted her chin up and kissed her, a feather-light touch of his lips to hers. “Madeleine,” he murmured. “Will you marry me?”
“I suppose I have to now,” she answered, closing her eyes again, and unable to keep a smile from touching her lips. “This is the third time you’ve ruined me. Or the fourth. I can’t remember.”
For a long moment he was silent. “Are you certain it’s not Rate you would rather have here?” he finally asked quietly.
“Rafe?” she asked, surprised, and lifted her head to look up at him. “Why Rafe?”
He shrugged, looking away from her out the window into the darkness. “You seem to get along well.”
Maddie relaxed again, comforted by his jealous tone. “We get along too well. I could never argue with him. It would be very dull.”
Quin made a sound in his chest that exploded into laughter. “You think,” he managed finally, “that
Rafe
is dull?”
They purchased a new, considerably better-sprung carriage in Nottingham, and from there arrived in Gretna Green two days later. Quin kept a close eye on Maddie, worried that once her head cleared she would take to the hills and vanish, but when they entered the quaint little chapel and stood before the extremely surprised priest, she was still beside him.
And five days later, as the coach turned onto King Street in Mayfair, she was seated next to him, though she looked considerably less happy. “You saw the
London Times
yesterday, the same as I did,” she said, eyeing him.