He's No Prince Charming (Ever After) (8 page)

It was then Fleetwood turned towards her. When he spoke, his voice was hardened iron, rusted with bitterness. “I know I am not anyone’s ideal husband, but I must marry you, Miss Foley-Foster. I recognize how unfair it is to you, but by marrying you, I will be afforded a protection from your father that mere ransom will not provide. I will promise you this, here and now, however. Once we are married, you are welcome to do as you please and you shall retain a majority of control over your dowry.”

Ginny was still, her freckles stark in her face. Her water-filled gaze flicked to Danni before it dropped to her lap. Danni remained riveted, helpless as to what to say and how to help her as a droplet splashed on top of her folded hands.

Fleetwood pressed anxiously forward, his handkerchief in hand. His throat, thick with emotion, deepened his quiet voice. “I know I am not what a girl dreams of when they think of a husband and I know I ask much of you. I shall never do anything you do not wish and I will turn a blind eye to whatever you do. Just help me.
Please
.”

Danni felt she was intruding on a private moment, and was embarrassed at being a witness to the vulnerability Fleetwood was displaying. It was unsettling seeing such a strong man plead.

She gulped. She could not ever imagine marrying under these conditions. But then again, she was well aware that many
ton
marriages consisted of husbands and wives maintaining different households once an heir had been produced.

Ginny shook her head, her face paling even further. “Please, my lord? Let me go!”

Fleetwood pulled away, leaving his handkerchief in her grasp. “I am sorry, Miss Foley-Foster. No.”

Ginny burst into tears. And in that moment, Danni had never hated a man more.

It was several hours before the well of tears ran dry. Danni moved over to her, pulling the girl into the comfort of her arms. It was then Danni realized how thin Ginny’s nightgown was. She had been clutching the shawl to her because she was freezing. Feeling a bit exasperated that she hadn’t noticed, she retrieved her bag from the floor of the carriage and dug around inside. She pulled out one of the dresses she’d packed for the girl’s trip.

She looked at the simple day dress suspiciously, as if afraid to take it. “It’s better than your nightgown and a good deal warmer as well. Fleetwood and I will look away.”

The man was already staring out the window, so Danni stood, hunched in the carriage, giving Ginny her back and creating the semblance of a curtain with the shawl. There was rustling for a moment before Ginny spoke again.

“I’m done.”

Danni turned back to see that she had pulled the dress over her nightgown and rewrapped the shawl about her shoulders, creating another barrier between herself and the world. Danni understood the feeling. When her mother died, she’d felt an immeasurable sense of loneliness and icy terror. It had taken everything in her not to hide away in her bed, buried beneath blankets.

“Good. I bet you—”

The carriage jerked to a sudden halt as shouting surrounded them. Danni lost her footing and landed directly in Fleetwood’s lap. Solid arms slid around her, cradling her close as the carriage tilted terrifyingly to one side. Horses screamed in fear and Ginny’s voice rose up from the floor. The chaos around her dimmed weirdly as she glanced up into Fleetwood’s face and saw the stark resolve displayed there. She swallowed against the sudden rush of her blood, and the heat of his arms seeped into her, making her feel safe despite the fear surging through her veins.

“Your money or your life!”

“Damn!”

Ginny’s curse broke the spell. Danni blinked at Fleetwood. She scrambled from his arms to meet Ginny’s suspicious gaze. Then the door of the coach was nearly torn off its hinges.

A masked figure stood in the doorway. He looked as if he had just stepped through time, a man from a bygone era. His tall, lithe form was clothed in a billowing black shirt loosely tied at the neck with ruffles surrounding both his chest and hands. A rapier rested at his hips. Black trousers hugged his thighs and tucked deep into the tops of black boots. On his head rested a buccaneer’s hat, a black plume tucked into its dark green ribbon band. He tossed back his matching green cloak, reaching inside the coach. Danni met his taunting gaze, his eyes covered by a strip of black cloth. “Welcome to Finchley Common, home of all things stolen.”

“Highwaymen!”

Ginny’s startled voice drew the man’s mocking gaze. He bowed as if they were in a crowded ballroom. “Very astute, Blue.”

The girl’s lips drew back in a snarl, baring her teeth, even though the man drew a gun from behind his back. “Are you going to bite me?”

Fleetwood cut off her reply, drawing the man’s attention. “Her feet are much more deadly,” he drawled.

The thief blinked, taken aback by the scars on the Beast’s face. A swift grimace followed, before he hid it away behind a grin. “I’ll keep that in mind while I, the Green Bandit, rob you!”

They blinked. Danni had the sense she was expected to know who he was. He frowned, his gaze traveling between them. “You’ve never heard of me, have you?”

They shook their heads. Ginny’s face was the picture of confusion as she asked, “If you’re green, does that mean you’re new to this?”

He seemed stunned for a moment, almost puzzled, then he gritted his teeth, muttering about getting a different name. The highwayman held out his hand once more. No one moved, a potent curtain of tension descending over them. Danni cursed Phillip to hell. Anyone with the slightest bit of sense knew that the Great North Road near Finchley Common was rife with brigands. She was only thankful they had so little worth taking.

With a slow breath Danni realized she needed to take action. Fleetwood couldn’t move. He was not in the proper position to launch at the man, nor would he be able to reach him before the other man could fire his pistol. She knew Fleetwood was unarmed. Unless that damned flask could be used as a weapon.

She scrambled up from her position between the seats, making sure to grab her sack and tuck it behind her. Hunched over, she moved closer to the highwayman. He blinked at her in surprise before holding out his hand to her instead. Danni ignored it and peeked beyond him. There was only one other man—a Gypsy by the look of him—standing off to the side in a matching outfit. However, he was too busy pointing his gun at Phillip in the driver’s seat to pay any attention to his partner. She flashed a glance in Fleetwood’s direction, hoping he would see she had a plan.

“Madam?”

Danni scanned the outside area quickly once more, and looked back to the thief’s face, surprisingly close to hers. She tried to meet his eyes, but they were shaded by the wide brim of his hat. She cleared her throat. “I am trying to disembark, sir.”

He nodded, lifting his hand a little to draw attention to his offer of assistance. She made as if to reach for it before swinging the bag to hit his head. He dodged left, and Danni dropped her body against his, shoving him with all her might. He stumbled, pulling Danni out of the carriage with him. A snarl erupted from the coach as Fleetwood exited the door in midair. He landed with an ungracious thud upon the tangle of bodies that were Danni and the highwayman. The sound of fist meeting flesh was muffled by the thunder of a gun and an agonizing scream.

Danni froze in horror as Phillip tumbled from the driver’s seat. The highwaymen’s horses escaped frantically in a cloud of dust amid snorts of fear and trembling withers. Danni dropped her bag, rushing to aid her fallen servant, while the highwayman who shot him grabbed at the fallen reins. Fleetwood thundered past her, diving for the man.

Danni reached Phillip’s side, where he writhed on the ground, dust clinging to his uniform and hair. Tears streamed down his cheeks, and he clutched his leg. With her heart in her throat, she caught hold of his hand over his wound. “Phillip? Oh God, Phillip!”

Regret swamped her as she saw the blood on their hands. “Where are you shot?”

“Oh, it hurts,” he moaned, voice thick with pain. “I’m going to die!”

“Let me see.”

Danni steeled herself as another moan escaped him. She tried to peel his hand away from the injury, but the highwayman’s voice halted her.

“No one move and she’ll live,” shouted the Green Bandit.

She turned to find Ginny with the man’s arm around her neck and a pistol held to her temple. The man’s face was bloodied, and despite the mask covering part of his face, he looked crueler than anyone she had ever seen. Once again poor Ginny was fast blanching, her eyes popping like a trapped and frantic mouse. Fleetwood’s arms were high in the air as the highwayman’s dark-skinned friend staggered to his feet beside him, pistol aimed at his heart.

Danni stood slowly, pleading, “What do you want from us? As you can see we do not have any valuables on our persons.”

The Green Bandit’s leer passed slowly along her figure, lingering at the snug fit of the pantaloons she had snatched from the barn boy last year. “No, no, I can see that you do not.” He chuckled. “I do so appreciate a woman in trousers.”

Danni flushed so fiercely her world spun. In the daze she heard another snarl of fury gurgle in Marcus’s throat.

“You have caused my friend and me a significant amount of trouble here. We deserve some compensation,” he continued.

Dread unfurled in her stomach. “Of what kind, thief?”

His partner sneered. “Perhaps some female compensation.”

A nasty growl erupted from Fleetwood, but neither man paid him any heed. The one at the carriage door grinned broadly, glancing down at Ginny. “We shall take Blue, I think.”

The partner shook his head. “I’d rather that one there. She’s full of fight.”

The gunman stared at Danni with considering eyes. She swallowed her fear. She had to go with them, not Ginny. This was her fault, after all. Poor Ginny had been through enough already.

“Take me,” she whispered.

Fleetwood let out a roar of helpless anger, but the gunman nodded. She inched forward to switch positions with Ginny when the girl let burst her perfectly timed temper at her captor.

Ginny’s heel collided with a solid
thunk
into the gunman’s shin. He gasped. His hold loosened but did not release.

Ginny screamed, “How dare you!”

The gunman muffled a painful groan and shook her violently. “Silence.”

Ginny gasped in outrage, her legs and arms flailing about dangerously. “My father is the Lord High Admiral! He will see you hang.”

A smile slowly crept across the Green Bandit’s face. “Is he now? That’s quite interestin’. I think I’m fallin’ in love.”

Danni cursed under her breath as the man laughed triumphantly. “It seems like we have a take after all. Blue here is our jackpot. Everyone knows the admiral actually loves his daughters and will pay a hefty ransom, I am certain. Ha!”

Ginny was hauled back into the carriage with the lead man, still kicking and scratching for freedom. Without a word, his partner scrambled into the driver’s seat and snapped the horses into a gallop.

In a swirl of dirt and a jangle of livery, the three vanished around the bend.

Speechless, Danni appraised the stunned Fleetwood, the fast disappearing coach, and finally the injured Phillip.

Incredibly, unbelievably, the two villains had kidnapped their kidnapped bride.

D
anni watched Fleetwood sprint after the coach, horror on his face. The carriage traveled much too fast to catch on foot. He stopped, leaning forward and out of breath. She continued to stare at the racing coach, dust settling among the dying echoes. They had kidnapped Ginny from them. If it had happened to anyone else, Danni could have appreciated the irony.

Fleetwood shouted, voice raspy with panic and disbelief. “The bastards took Ginny. We need to go after them!”

Heat flooded her veins. “I know,” she snapped, “but Phillip has been shot. And we have no horses.”

He ignored her, turning in the direction the coach had disappeared, worry scoring his scars stark across his face. Danni took one last glance herself at the dust trail before she dropped to her knees beside Phillip. Her servant was her first priority. His death would be a horrible addition to the disaster unfolding about them. Especially when she’d forced him to accompany them. Practically blackmailed him, in fact. As if traveling through highwaymen country was his fault. Oh, she wished she could appreciate the mockery her life had become.

“You have to let me see your injury,” she implored him.

He shook his head in misery and continued to roll in the dust as if it was all too much. Danni reached out a hand to comfort him, shocked when she felt the tremors in his body. A snake of cold fear wrapped about her heart. Fleetwood approached from behind, sweating, breathing heavily, his green eyes filled with worry. He squatted beside her, his once lordly appearance ruined with dirt and more than a few rips in his jacket. He placed his rough hand upon her shoulder.

“Where has he been shot?” His frown deepened his vicious scars.

She shrugged fiercely, attempting to remove his hand. It stayed in place. The heat seeped through the fine lawn of her shirt. It helped calm her despite her annoyance with him.

“Go away. I don’t need your help.”

Fleetwood held up his hands in mock surrender. She pretended not to miss the comfort of his hand. Danni glanced at the coachman. “He’s shaking so badly. Does that mean he’s going into shock?”

A swath of concern fell over his features. Shaking his head, he took off his jacket. The heavy weight of it settled around her shoulders, and his familiar spicy scent enveloped her.

“It’s not Phillip who is shaking, Danni.”

She removed her hand from Phillip. Sure enough, the tremors were visible: her hand and arm quaked. Taking a deep, steadying breath, she began to examine the driver. “Will he be all right? I shall never forgive myself if anything happens to him.”

A soft smile, far gentler than she could have imagined Marcus capable of, tugged at his lips. He caught hold of Phillip’s hands and moved them away from the site of his injury. She couldn’t look. She turned into Fleetwood’s shoulder, afraid to see the damage that was all her fault. Unbidden, her body leaped at the contact. The urge to bury her face there to block out the world nearly overwhelmed her.

Fleetwood tensed. Silence filled the air. Danni gulped back a sob, sure that the silence meant Phillip was beyond help. “It’s terrible, isn’t it?”

A snort escaped him. She pulled back, outraged on behalf of her employee. “Do not belittle his pain!”

His voice was low, rumbling with annoyance as he spoke. “Look for yourself, Danni.”

Gathering her courage, Danni turned to look at the wound. Except there was no wound. Not really. On an angry breath, she glared down at her
ex
-coachman’s leg. The pale limb was marred by a small scrape, from which only a small amount of blood dribbled. Minor purple bruising grew in the surrounding flesh. There was no bullet wound.

She gnashed her teeth in fury. “I cannot begin to describe what I am feeling.”

Phillip moaned, but his eyes remained sealed shut. “How bad is it? I just know I’m going to die!”

Fleetwood rolled his eyes heavenward. His mouth tightened with exasperation. “You were not even shot, idiot. You must have injured yourself when you leaped from the driver’s seat.”

“Don’t lie to me! I can feel my life slipping away. Oh God, have mercy on my soul!”

The rein on her temper slipped. “Phillip, if you do not stop your theatrics this very moment…”

“I repent all my sins! Except, of course, this most recent one. She made me do it!”

“Ahh!” Beyond words, her emotions exploded from the back of her throat. “I’m done with you! You are fired, Phillip. I am sure you shall be able to annoy a great many people in your unfortunately long future.”

One eye unsealed. The slit revealed disbelief. “You would fire a man on his deathbed?”

Danni lunged at the prone man, her patience at an end. Fleetwood caught her around the waist. For once, she could ignore the sensations his touch stirred as he hauled her up and away from her ex-coachman. She squirmed in his grasp until he put her down several yards distant. “I am going to kill him. I promise you that!”

He chuckled, his restraining grasp steady and strong. “I do not doubt you are completely capable, little one, but I’d rather not compound our crimes.”

Eyes narrowed as she considered his words. “What did you just call me?”

Fleetwood froze, and then a reluctant smile shifted across his face. “Little one?”

“Don’t call me that. I am not a child.”

He chuckled. “Now that I know that, I fear I shall never stop,
little one
.”

“I said don’t call me that,” Danni grumbled, glaring both at him and over his shoulder at the coachman for good measure. Phillip remained lying in the middle of the road. He had lifted his head to watch them. As soon as she caught his eye, his head dropped and he moaned dramatically, his tongue shooting out the side of his mouth.

“Faker.”

Fleetwood threw his head back and laughed.

“This is not amusing,” she shouted. “I thought he was
actually
going to die and it would have been all my fault.”

He fought for a straight face. “I think we should leave him in the road. If we are lucky, a wild animal will eat him.”

“What wild animals? A suddenly carnivorous rabbit?”

“There is always hope,” Fleetwood muttered.

Despite herself, Danni grinned. His smile transformed him. He was charming and rather handsome. The marred skin seemed to fade and his eyes darkened, glittering with a fire far from the angry bitterness she had grown accustomed to. His lower lip dented in the middle, creating an unusual dimple, no doubt the result of the scar across his chin. She fought the urge to smooth it with her fingertip.

When he caught her glance at his lips, his smile faded. A wary look cloaked his features. Quickly, he shifted his weight so the cheek with the largest scar was hidden from her. Shame roiled up as she realized what he must be thinking.

“Fleet—”

“We need to catch the coach you lost.”

“I lost?” Any feelings of empathy disappeared in a hot flash. “What do you mean, I lost?”

“Exactly what I said. If you had let me handle that situation, we would not be short an heiress and a coach.”

“Oh, you horrible man! If my plan was so flawed then why did you go along with it?”

“You didn’t give me much of a choice. You practically flew at the brigand.”

Danni stomped down the road in the direction of their coach and cargo. “I did not see you formulating any brilliant escape plan. I determined I was the only one capable of orchestrating an attempt at diversion.”

Marcus quickly reached her side, his large stride eating up her lead. “As I just said, you did not give me time.”

“Where are you going?” Phillip whimpered from behind them.

Danni and Marcus halted. They looked back at Phillip resting on his elbows. Danni glowered. “I thought you were dying.”

Instantly, he fell back, writhing on the ground in mock pain. “I am.” His hand reached for the sky. “I see the Lord!”

Marcus grunted, looking at Danni. “Where
are
we going?”

Danni hesitated, trying to recall the layout of a map she had studied of the area. “I believe if we simply follow this road, we will run into a town. We may run into them there, or find clues as to their hideout.”

He grunted again and kept moving. Seemed he was serious about leaving Phillip. Glancing back at the prone man, she frowned. As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t just leave him. She returned to his side and crouched with a sigh. “We shall be back with help.”

At his nod, she couldn’t resist grousing, “Stay alive until then.”

Standing, she spotted a burlap lump in the path—her bag of tricks. She knew among the tools inside lay a spare dress. The memory of the invasive gleam in the bandit’s eyes caused revulsion to crawl down her spine. She could wear something proper again.

“The longer you stand there, the further the carriage travels,” Marcus snapped.

Her mood plummeted. With one last reassurance to Phillip whimpering on the ground, she grabbed the bag and sprinted ahead, trying to match her pace to Fleetwood’s. It was an impossible task. He took a single stride for every two of hers. All she accomplished was making herself pant. “Will you please slow down?”

He didn’t. He didn’t even speak.

“I take it we’re going to keep walking until we reach the coach, then?”

Silence.

Danni jogged ahead. With each stride, her annoyance increased. She darted in front of him to plant herself in his path. He halted, his eyes traveling appraisingly over her body. When he met her gaze, the coldness she was accustomed to had returned. Silently, he stepped around her and continued forward.

Frustrated, she hollered back in disbelief. “You are angry at
me
? You truly cannot blame me for all this! Must I remind you, you blackmailed me into this horrid escapade? You could not just wait a single day to allow me to plan a safe and quiet elopement.”

Danni gasped for air. She had begun to vent and there would be no stopping now. “If we had waited, my regular coachman would have been back from your ex-fiancée’s trip and he would have known to avoid this road.”

“Never mention that woman again,” he snapped.

She paused at his sudden roar. Frozen mid-step, she caught the broken, lined expression that turned his eyes a dark, forest green. He suddenly turned away, clearing his throat roughly. “My apologies.”

She gaped. He’d apologized?

He resumed his brisk progress. And his silence. Danni bit her lip, feeling oddly put out. She should be happy he was ignoring her. After all, he was the Beast.

They continued for several more yards before she could no longer remain mute. “Fine. If you do not wish to speak to me, then so be it.”

Fleetwood did not acknowledge her comment. Grinding her teeth, Danni jogged to catch up with him again. She’d dealt with stubborn men before. This would be no different.

Danni managed to remain quiet for all of three hours. She’d no practice telling time by the sun. Instead, she counted each second as it passed. It was better than leaving her thoughts to drive her mad.

“Fleetwood?” she finally muttered.

Silence.

She gnashed her lip and lifted her feet higher, changing from a steady walk to that of a storming slam, crushing greenery beneath her feet.
Even Hu isn’t this stubborn.

At the thought of her friends, she realized how much she needed them. If Hu had come along, none of this would have happened. And Annabel would have been sympathetic to Danni’s troubles. She would hate Fleetwood with her. Having an ally would have been a luxury at the moment. As would a sandwich. Particularly a watercress sandwich.

She clutched her protesting stomach. Determination swept though her. She lifted her knees even higher. Her mission was to make as much irritating noise as possible.

A particularly loud snap jolted up her leg, surprising her. She glanced down at a freshly broken stick mingled with the rich dirt of the decomposing forest floor. Fleetwood had led her into this endless green forest almost a quarter of an hour ago. He had not explained their change of direction. He’d simply veered and expected her to follow.
Arrogant man.

Danni had considered staying on the North Road, but she was not about to endanger herself for the sake of winning their standoff. They were still too deep in bandit country for her to wander off alone. Her fear for Ginny spiked again. She could not allow herself to imagine what these vile kidnappers were doing to her. Danni’s hungry stomach turned sick with helplessness and worry. She had allowed this to happen. In fact, she had been instrumental in creating this entire mess. She had sacrificed a poor innocent to save her own skin. She was viler than the thieves.

Her worry that Marcus and she had been spotted kidnapping Ginny turned to hope that the girl’s family must have discovered her missing by now. It meant that not only were she and Fleetwood searching for her, but so was the Admiralty. She was suddenly thankful to be off the Great North Road. The admiral could have rounded the corner and captured them at any moment. Her panic at the thought of a noose around her neck nearly matched her fear for Ginny, and, she admitted, of losing Fleetwood in these damned woods. She was not particularly willing to test the theory he would double back to search for her.

So when a particularly ill-tempered branch decided to swing from Fleetwood’s grasp and hit her in the face, she’d had enough.

“Where the
hell
are you leading us?”

Her enraged tone raised no response from her companion. As much as she enjoyed staring at his admittedly well-sculpted back, she wanted answers. She also wanted to hear another human voice. If she enjoyed this kind of strained silence, she could have remained with her father at their home on King Street and never opened Gretna Green Bookings.

Thoughts of her father brought thoughts about her fiancé. Well, almost fiancé, assuming the Earl of Hemsworth didn’t believe her absence meant she was refusing his offer. She swore to herself, if she managed to return Ginny safely to her family without exposing her life to complete scandal, she would meet with the lord and her father to formally accept the marriage arrangement. She’d have a wonderful life as a countess and Danni was confident she and the earl would grow to love each other very much. It would be the fairy tale ending she’d always wanted.