Lord Grayson's Bride (6 page)

“If you are looking for a company where you can take an active role, you have made a mistake with Cumberland. Easton is looking for silent partners.”

“So he is telling most of the investors he approaches,” Wylst replied. “But he is looking for two equal partners as well. He tells me you are one.”

Nick lifted a brow. “I do not intend to go into the shipping business.”

Wylst frowned. “Easton is under the impression you are committed.”

Nick gave Wylst a cold smile. “Then he is as mistaken as you.”

Josephine squinted against the morning sun at her mother, who, up ahead on the road, rode a dark chestnut alongside Miss Jane Halloway. This last week, the girl’s parents had paraded her around like a piece of horsemeat for sale—an apt analogy, as far as Josephine was concerned—and Jo had the impression she was relieved to have a quiet day away from any eligible gentlemen.

Jane’s father led the group along with Lord Deeds. They were eight in all and, once the woods gave way to sparser trees, they would leave the road to picnic along the banks of loch Ness.

For Josephine, the only thing she liked about their outing was Lord Wylst’s absence. He, along with Nicholas and her father, had remained at Barthmont Keep. A day free of the three men had been worth the price of her mother’s company.

The sun shone through clouds that reminded the god of light that even its great power could not penetrate the clouds’ airy density should they deign it so. But Jo had lived in Inverness all her life, and knew these clouds would not rain today, despite their show of power.

She had brought a copy of James MacPherson’s translation of Ossian and hoped to lose herself in the poetry. But she feared her mind would return to Lord Wylst and his command that she marry Nicholas. After hearing the baron talk business with Nicholas last night, she feared part of his reason for wanting her to marry Nick was that he felt the connection would give him entry into Nicholas’ world of finance. That possibility terrified her even more than him trying to blackmail her for Nick’s money.

Her heart broke anew. She hadn’t deluded herself. She knew from the moment Wylst appeared in her life she had to get Nick to call off the marriage. But she hadn’t quite let go of the joy she felt upon signing the contract. Nicholas was right. She had fancied herself in love with him since the age of thirteen. That girl’s fantasy grew into a woman’s desire and Nick’s return resurrected the feelings she had convinced herself were dead. And now the baron threatened to expose the truth if she didn’t marry Nicholas. She saw only one solution. She had to get rid of Lord Wylst, and she knew of only one way. 

The party turned a bend in the road and Jane’s cry shattered Jo’s thoughts. A carriage blocked the road. Beside the team, a mounted man aimed a gun at the driver. A second highwayman stood and pressed a gun to a young man’s back, while a third brigand—a giant of a man—gripped a woman’s arm. The group froze, all eyes on Jo’s party. Fear lodged in Josephine’s throat.

“By God,” Lord Deeds cursed, and yanked a pistol from the waistband at his back.

“He has a gun!” the highwayman holding the woman shouted.

The young man who stood at gunpoint rammed an elbow into the ribs of the brigand behind him, then whirled and threw a punch to his jaw. The gun roared. The driver dove off the carriage to the other side of the vehicle, and the man pointing his pistol at him fired. Lord Deeds spurred his horse forward just as his wife screamed.

“Ride, ladies!” Mr. Halloway shouted, and urged his horse after Lord Deeds.

Jo’s mother looked at Jane, who had stopped beside her. “Go, Jane.” Her gaze cut to the other ladies. “Mrs. Halloway, Lady Carlisle, Amanda—for God’s sake, ride!”

Lady Carlisle and her daughter obeyed, but Jane sat frozen, eyes glued to her father who raced toward the chaos. Jo’s stomach pitched when the brigand gripping the woman’s arm yanked her against his chest and jammed a gun to her temple. He looked wildly about as he dragged her backwards, away from the men fighting.

“Jane,” Mrs. Halloway cried.

Josephine’s mother reached across the distance between her and Jane, and yanked Jane’s horse’s reins. The beast took several quick backwards steps. Jane broke from the stupor and yanked the reins. Josephine wheeled her horse around to avoid collision with Jane as she turned her mount in a hard circle. She lunged past Josephine in unison with another shot that split the air. Jo gasped when Lord Deeds suddenly listed in the saddle. Mr. Halloway sped past him while the man who had shot at the driver lunged toward the horses.

Her mother’s eyes came around hard on Josephine. “Ride to Barthmont Keep for help.
Now
.” She kicked her mount’s belly and he sprang toward the commotion in one great leap.

“Mother!” Jo cried.

Confusion washed over Josephine. Her mother had ordered her to go for help but—She looked over her shoulder. The road lay empty. Surely, the other women would send help? She returned her gaze to her mother, who had reached Lord Deeds, slumped over his horse. Her mother grabbed his horse’s reins and, with one hand on his arm to steady him, drove the beast off the road. Jo’s heart rammed against her chest when her mother disappeared into the trees with the viscount.

Eyes on the man still holding the woman, Josephine urged her horse toward the trees on the opposite side of the road where her mother had gone. The brigand who had shot the driver managed to grab the reins of the nearest horse, and leapt into the saddle as Mr. Halloway reached the carriage.

Josephine nearly cried out when the giant highwayman yanked the woman around and shouted, “William!” to his comrade in the saddle.

The man galloped away.

With the highwayman’s back to her, Josephine spurred her horse into the woods and began circling around the carriage. Through the trees, the young man was visible, panting over the motionless body of the brigand he’d been fighting. The driver stood beside him and, he, along with Mr. Halloway who still sat atop his horse, stared at the remaining highwayman. He backed away, using the woman as a shield. She looked like a pale rag doll against his massive frame. The young man took a step toward them.

The brigand jerked. “Stop, or I kill her.”

The young man halted.

Mr. Halloway said, “Kill her, and you face a rope.”

The man gave a harsh laugh. “Ye will hang me one way or another. Get off your horse.” 

Mr. Halloway didn’t move.

“Get off, or I shoot her!” the highwayman shouted.

“For God’s sake, man, dismount,” the young man said.

Mr. Halloway complied.

“Move away,” the giant ordered, and the three men backed away from the horse. The man edged around with the girl until he neared the horse.

“Let her go and we won’t chase you,” the young man said. “We care only for her safety.”

The brigand swung the gun and fired into the group, shoving the girl toward them. The young man stumbled, and Jo gasped when he collapsed to the ground. The driver caught the girl in his arms, but she pulled free and dropped to her knees beside her companion.

Fury swept through Josephine. She kicked her mare’s ribs as Mr. Halloway lunged for the highwayman, and her horse shot out onto the road. The giant moved quicker and swung his pistol at Mr. Halloway’s jaw. The older man’s head snapped with the force of the blow and blood spurted from his mouth. Yet he still drove a fist into the brigand’s belly. The man swung an upper cut to Halloway’s jaw.

The young woman hugged her comrade, crying. The driver stripped off his coat and pressed it against the man’s chest. Jo forced back the need to retch and stopped beside the coach. She spotted a large rock near the wheel and jumped from the saddle.

Jo cringed with the brigand kicked Halloway’s leg, but forced her legs into motion and lunged toward the rock as the older man dropped to his knees. The brigand kicked him in the belly. She hauled up the rock and whirled. Her mother appeared from the trees on her horse and was bearing down on the highwayman.

Mr. Halloway tried to rise. The driver jumped to his feet, but the highwayman yanked a dirk from the sheath on his belt and threw it at him. The driver dove aside, but the knife sunk deep into his shoulder.

The highwayman whirled toward Jo. She heaved the rock with all her might. It hit his leg with a dull thud. She took a step backward, when he lurched forward and grabbed for her.

Another shot rang out and Josephine cried out before movement drew her attention to the pistol her mother lowered. The man staggered toward Josephine. She jumped back, barely evading a swipe of his big hand. In the next instant, her mother halted her horse beside them. Jo noted with odd detachment that her mother now rode astride instead of sidesaddle. Her mother gave the giant a hard kick to the head. He stumbled forward with the force of the blow, then slumped to the ground.

Jo stared in shock. An instant later, hands seized her shoulders.

“Are you all right?”

She looked up at her mother. “Y-you shot him.” Before her mother could reply, Josephine collapsed into her arms, and turned her head away from the bloody body.

Her mother gave her a fierce hug, and for an instant she was a little girl again, surrounded by her mother’s warmth after waking from a nightmare. Then her mother held her at arm’s length.

“When we return to Barthmont Keep, we shall have a talk about daughters obeying their mothers.”

Her no nonsense tone sobered Jo.

Her mother continued, “Are you unharmed?”

Jo nodded. “Aye.”

“Good. Then let us see to the others.”

She grasped Josephine’s hand and Jo glanced at the giant as her mother pulled her away. Her heart tightened. Her mother had shot a man to save her, then put herself in jeopardy by attacking him. A tear managed to slip down her cheek before she could stop herself. She hurried alongside her mother to where the driver knelt.

Jo’s stomach turned at sight of his blood soaked shirt, and she was surprised when her mother said to him, “You will live.”

“Aye,” he croaked.

She continued to the young man and knelt beside the woman.

“He isn’t moving,” the young girl said.

Josephine’s mother pressed two fingers to his neck, then pulled away the coat the driver had stuffed inside his jacket to staunch the blood. When she yanked open his shirt the young girl sobbed and Josephine had to breathe deep for fear she would swoon. Blood oozed from the bullet wound.

“He is far from dead, my dear.” Her mother took off the pelisse she wore. “His pulse is strong and he is young.”

Movement in the corner of Jo’s eye drew her attention to Mr. Halloway who limped up to them.

“Can you drive?” he asked the driver.

He nodded. “Aye.”

“Where is Deeds?” Mr. Halloway asked.

“In the woods,” Josephine’s mother replied as she pressed her folded pelisse over the man’s wound. Pressing her hand against it, she gently lifted him on one side. “The bullet grazed his lordship’s skull,” she told Mr. Halloway. “He will need assistance to walk. Perhaps you and the driver can bring him up.”

Josephine caught the worried furrow on her mother’s brow as she inspected the young man’s back.

“Bartholomew,” the young woman addressed the driver. “Are you well enough to assist?”

“Aye, the wound isna’ bad.”

“What of those two?” Mr. Halloway motioned to the two brigands.

Josephine’s mother’s attention remained on the young man as she held her folded pelisse to his wound. “I doubt they will awaken, but leave your knife.”

“My lady,” Mr. Halloway began.

“Sir,” she swung her gaze onto him, “we have no time to lose. This man needs a doctor immediately. Please bring Lord Deeds, then we shall go on to Castle Cruden. It is closer than Barthmont Keep.”

“You are right,” he said, and waved Bartholomew to accompany him.

When the men disappeared into the trees, Josephine’s mother shocked her by standing and stepping out of the two petticoats she wore.

“Mother,” Jo said, horrified. “What are you doing?”

“Making a bandage.” She used her teeth to start a tear in one of the petticoats, then ripped it down one side. “What is your name?” she asked the girl as she folded the second petticoat.

“Mary Ann Roberts. This is my brother, Lord Crawford.”

“Mary Ann, you and my daughter will lift your brother upright so that I can wrap this fabric around him. Can you do that?”

She nodded.

“Each of you take a side. Josephine, keep the pelisse pressed firmly against the wound.”

Josephine followed her directions, and she and Mary Ann lifted her brother into a sitting position. Jo’s mother made quick work of removing his jacket and Josephine stifled a gasp at sight of the blood that soaked the back of his white shirt.

“Dear God,” his sister whispered, and Josephine feared the girl might faint. But she held her brother steady while Jo’s mother deftly wrapped the torn petticoat snugly around him. When they laid him down, Josephine released a slow breath in relief at sight of the continued rise and fall of his chest.

“Do you really think he will live?” his sister asked.

“I do,” Jo’s mother replied, and Josephine couldn’t halt the rush of pride when the girl looked at her mother with tears in her eyes.

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“Thank me when he is safely in bed.”

Tears threatened Jo again. This was the mother she had known for twenty three years. Bold, confident...honorable. How could this woman have betrayed her husband and family?

The men arrived, supporting Lord Deeds between them, and Josephine rose in an effort to find a distraction from the turmoil of her emotions. She held open the door as they put Lord Deeds and the young man into the carriage. They threw the two highwayman over the backs of horses—though Josephine wondered if the man her mother had shot would live—and Mr. Halloway rose with the driver up top. Jo’s mother sat on one cushion with the young man’s head in her lap, while the other three sat opposite them. Jo noticed the worry lines around her Mother’s eyes, which made her anxious for the young man’s life.