An Unconventional Miss (2 page)

All of a sudden, a single shot rang out in the silence. The stick fell from the ruffian's hand as, letting out a howl of pain, he clutched at his bloodstained forearm. Then, without a backward glance, and followed closely by his equally terrified accomplice, he fled back in the direction from whence they had first appeared.

The sound of the two men crashing their way through the undergrowth was very quickly drowned out by the noise of fast-approaching hooves. Jessica, having almost fallen out of the carriage in her haste to reach her brother, sank to her knees at his side, begging him to speak to her. She barely registered the arrival of the mount's rider who, having leapt from his steed, was now lifting her, none too gently, to her feet and thrusting her to one side.

‘Better let me see to him,' he advised curtly. ‘He might have broken something.'

Jessica, who had been about to challenge the newcomer over his singularly high-handed manner, found herself hesitating. Although she could see only the back of the man's head from her present position, his attractively deep voice, whilst rather brusque, was well modulated and she could tell by the cut of his riding jacket—which fitted across his broad shoulders to perfection—that he appeared to be a gentleman of means. She bit back the stinging riposte that had been forming and regarded him with some interest.

Pulling off his gloves, the stranger knelt beside Nicholas's still-prone figure and began to run his hands over the boy's body. After several minutes, during which time Jessica clasped her hands together tightly, scarcely daring to take a breath, the man knelt back on his heels and uttered a satisfied grunt.

‘No bones broken,' he professed cheerfully. ‘My guess is that the lad has merely passed out—this should do the trick.' And, extracting a small brandy flask from his inside pocket, he gently prised Nicholas's lips apart and allowed a few drops of the spirit to trickle into the boy's mouth.

Her eyes wide with apprehension, Jessica edged closer in order to better her view. As far as she could see, there seemed to be no appreciable change in her brother's demeanour but then, quite suddenly, there came a slight choking sound and the boy's eyes flew open.

‘W-wha's happening?' he croaked and, catching sight of his sister's anxious face, he would have tried to sit up had not the stranger placed a restraining hand upon his chest.

‘Easy now, my boy. Gently does it.'

Jessica flew at once to her brother's side.

‘Oh, Nicky, Nicky!' she gasped. ‘Are you hurt?'

‘Just about everywhere!' groaned Nicholas as, very gingerly, he forced his body into a sitting position and raised a hand to his throbbing head. ‘What happened?' he queried, looking firstly towards his overjoyed sister and then up at their rescuer, who having risen, was holding out his hands to help the boy up.

‘Your attackers made off,' was the man's terse reply.

Nicholas frowned and, his mind still somewhat befuddled, shook his head. ‘I thought I heard a shot,' he faltered. ‘But then—I suppose I must have passed out.'

After allowing the stranger to help him to his feet, Nicholas leant his trembling body against the side of the gig and, reaching out, took hold of his sister's hand. ‘They didn't hurt you, did they, Jess?' he asked urgently. ‘I'll never forgive myself—'

‘No harm done, I promise you!' she returned, hurriedly patting his hand, then, after a moment's hesitation, she gave him an apologetic smile. ‘Apart from the loss of all our money, that is,' she added ruefully.

‘Oh, good,' he replied, clearly still in something of a daze. ‘Hadn't we best get on our way, then?'

Then, taking a deep breath, he straightened his shoulders, gripped hold of the gig's side-rail and attempted to haul himself up on to the driving seat. Almost immediately, he felt himself swaying backwards and, had not a pair of powerful arms reached out and caught hold of him, he would surely have fallen to the ground once again.

‘A little premature, perhaps?' suggested the stranger, with a sympathetic smile as, without apparent effort, he hoisted the boy on to the gig's seat. ‘Hold tight, my lad. It looks as though we might have to secure you somehow. I must assume that your sister is capable of driving?'

Ignoring Jessica's gasp of protest, the man walked over to his horse and, after extracting a length of rope from the saddlebag, returned to Nicholas's side and calmly proceeded to strap the boy to the gig's backrest. Then, standing back, he surveyed his efforts.

‘That should do.' He gave a satisfied nod then, turning to Jessica, he offered her his hand. ‘Up you get, Miss Beresford. You need have no further fears of being set upon, I assure you—you will have my escort for the remainder of your journey.'

Fuming, but unable to find the words to express her indignation at the fellow's arrogant assumption that she would be unable to cope without his further assistance, Jessica could only do as she was bid. It was not until she was in her seat and had taken up the reins that the thought occurred to her that the man had addressed her by name.

‘How do you suppose he knows who we are?' she muttered to Nicholas in a low voice, as she watched the tall stranger vault nimbly into his saddle and swing his mount round. ‘Do you think he could be another felon—some sort of accomplice?'

‘Odd sort of accomplice to go shooting his comrades,' returned her brother, who was feeling far from well. ‘Don't be such a goose, Jess! The fellow has done us a good turn—though how the devil we are going to explain all this to Matt defies thinking about!' Then, clasping his hand to his throbbing head, he begged, ‘Do let us get on!'

F
or the first hundred yards or so, their escort remained behind the carriage, his clear grey eyes carefully scrutinising the terrain, both to the front and to the rear. Gradually, though, as the little party approached the more populated areas, the horseman drew closer and closer until, eventually, he was abreast of the gig. Then, after riding alongside in silence for some minutes, he spoke.

‘Your brother is recovering from his shock, I trust?' he asked pleasantly.

‘He appears to be doing very nicely, thank you, sir,' replied Jessica, without turning her head. Keeping her eyes firmly on the road ahead, she was pondering the man's remark. How was it that he knew her name and how could he have known that Nicholas was her brother? That this man—whoever he might be—seemed to be in possession of so much information about their circumstances concerned and puzzled her greatly.

But then, as the silence between them continued at length, Jessica's conscience began to smite her as, somewhat belatedly, it occurred to her that she had made no attempt to offer the man her gratitude for his timely intervention.

‘I fear that we are greatly in your debt, sir,' she began primly, only to be interrupted by his smothered laugh. Swinging her head sideways, she glared at him. ‘Have I said something to amuse you, sir?'

‘Not at all, ma'am,' he returned promptly. ‘I am glad that I was able to be of some service!'

Although his face was not turned in her direction, it was not difficult to see that it was creased in a wide grin. In the midst of her outrage, she was astonished to find herself thinking what a devilishly handsome creature he was when he smiled. Biting her lip in exasperation, she racked her brains to find a less stilted way of expressing her gratitude.

‘I simply cannot imagine why those men should have chosen to waylay us,' she eventually managed. ‘I should not have thought that this shabby carriage was the sort of vehicle that would lend itself to a hold-up!'

‘It possibly had more to do with the way in which you were flashing your blunt, back at the Rose and Crown,' he offered.

‘Flashing my…!' For a moment, Jessica was lost for words, but then, as a most disturbing thought entered her head, she found herself filled with a desperate need to vanquish her sudden suspicions.

‘I take it, then,' she said carefully, ‘that your arrival back there was not just some lucky coincidence?'

‘Hardly!' was his astonishing reply. ‘I was right behind you from the moment you left the inn!'

Her heart sank. ‘W-why was that?' she asked, unable to prevent the tremble in her voice.

‘Because of those two fellows,' he replied casually. ‘I was aware that they had been watching you for some little while in the inn's stable yard and then, when I saw them make off through the back woods, it seemed pretty clear to me what they were about.'

A flicker of relief ran through her, but then, ‘But why did you not see fit to warn us about them?' she demanded indignantly.

There was a moment's silence. ‘I rather got the impression that you were not the sort of young lady who would take kindly to a piece of friendly advice from a total stranger,' he replied at last.

Now thoroughly affronted, Jessica snapped, ‘What utter nonsense! If you knew that a felony was about to be committed, it was your duty to inform us!'

‘Well, it is not exactly true to say that I
knew
they were up to no good,' he retorted, his hackles rising. ‘Their furtive behaviour merely led me to believe they might well be—which is why I followed your carriage!'

‘And then waited until they had attacked us!' was her withering retort.

Taking a deep breath, the man gave a brief nod. ‘That was an unfortunate error on my part,' he admitted stiffly. ‘I had not expected violence—their kind is, usually, only in it for the pickings. They like to terrify their victims into a quick surrender of their valuables and then make off, as fast as they can. Insofar as I have been led to believe, they tend to pick upon travellers who do not look as though they are able to take care of themselves—such as your brother and yourself. I doubt that they were prepared for retaliation.'

Just as she herself had supposed at the time, thought Jessica ruefully. If only Nicky had kept quiet! But then, another thought flashed into her mind.

‘You were perfectly content to see us robbed, then?' she flung at him.

His face darkened. ‘If you will go round flourishing bundles of notes under people's noses,' he replied calmly, ‘you can hardly complain when the inevitable occurs!'

Hurriedly recalling her efforts to persuade the gig's owner to part with his carriage, Jessica's cheeks reddened. Although she was bound to admit that there might be some slight glimmer of truth in what the man was saying, she was not at all happy to have received such a thorough set-down from him. With the exception of her half-brother, Matt, the majority of men with whom she came into contact were usually so dazzled by her fairy-tale beauty that they were more inclined to grovel at her feet than find any fault with her behaviour.

Having arrived in the capital some six weeks earlier, it had taken her no time at all to become the year's Toast of the Town. Under the aegis of Lady Sydenham—her cousin Imogen's godmother—she had been given entrée to all of the best houses, and now no fashionable gathering was considered complete if the lovely Miss Beresford was not in attendance—especially since her magnetic presence practically guaranteed that a good many of the available men-about-town would gladly forfeit a night at the gaming tables and put in an appearance, merely on the off-chance of a smile and a kind word from the beauty!

At first, having spent the previous year and a half desperately craving a Season in the capital, Jessica had revelled in all the attention that the
ton
saw fit to bestow upon her. However, the feverish excitement that she had felt at the onset was beginning to subside, only to be replaced by a kind of uninterested apathy. A great many of the most prestigious assemblies to which she had been invited had proved to be boring in the extreme and, even though she had already received at least a half a dozen proposals of marriage, she had been singularly unimpressed with every one of her intending suitors.

Gentlemen about town, it seemed to her, were very much of a muchness. They drank far too much, indulged in inexplicable sports like cock-fighting and bare-knuckle boxing and, when they weren't off to the fencing salons or the race-course, they spent a good deal of their time in smoky gambling rooms or other questionable dens of iniquity. And, even when they did deign to turn up to some function or other, the obsequious insincerity with which they fawned over every single one of the affluent and unattached females present—regardless of their looks—seemed to suggest to Jessica that the majority of these coxcombs were merely seeking to palm themselves off on to some unsuspecting heiress, with an eye to lining their own pockets!

The failed abduction of the previous year had taught her an invaluable lesson regarding the wily behaviour of the predatory male and, thanks to her own valiant endeavours to model her conduct on that of her more decorous cousin Imogen, Jessica was now far less likely to be moved by mere sycophantic flattery.

Nevertheless, having had her radiant loveliness constantly remarked upon for practically the whole of her nineteen years—and despite all of her recent efforts to curb any repetition of the vulgar displays of vanity that had been all too common until Matt's arrival—it was hardly surprising that she should feel just a little piqued that their rescuer who, despite having spoken so few words to her throughout the entire journey, had managed to succeed in giving her the distinct impression that he was totally impervious to her appearance. In point of fact, his very indifference was making Jessica feel quite self-conscious—a most unusual state of affairs for the highly sought-after Miss Beresford!

Still deeply offended by the stranger's criticisms, it was with some considerable relief that she gradually became aware of the fact that the volume of traffic about them was beginning to increase and, as the carriage swung out of the King's Road into Kensington, she realised that they were at last approaching an area of which she was fairly cognisant.

Turning her face towards their escort, with the express intent of demolishing his pretentiousness with the full benefit of one of her most dazzling smiles, she said prettily, ‘Since we seem to be nearing the park, sir, there is really no need for you to trouble yourself any further. I am very well acquainted with this part of town.'

‘I have no that doubt you are, ma'am,' was his non-committal reply. ‘However, I believe that it behoves me to see you to your door.'

Had Jessica not been seated in a rocking gig, she would have stamped her foot, just as she had been frequently wont to do in one of her old furies. Instead, having spotted a narrow opening in the considerable crush of traffic ahead of them, she curled her fingers tightly about the reins and, giving them a quick flick, urged the horse forward, in the hopes of giving the stranger the slip.

The sudden lurching of the little gig caused Nicholas, who had been dozing on and off for most of the journey, to fling open his eyes in alarm. Whereupon he let out a warning gasp. ‘Take care, Jess!'

Then, before she had time to realise what he was about, their escort had shot out a hand, caught hold of the left-hand rein and, with some considerable effort, had managed to haul the mare out of the path of a rapidly approaching curricle.

‘Not a very clever manoeuvre, if I may say so,' he observed dryly, as the gig rocked to a standstill. ‘Always best to keep out of the path of fast-moving traffic, I've found.'

Jessica, who was shaking from head to toe, was unable to discern whether the trembling was due to her pent-up fury or as a result of the near miss. She fixed the stranger with a look of such rancour that, in the normal way, would have had its recipient reeling back in dismay at its ferocity.

‘How dare you, sir!' she ground out, her green eyes glittering dangerously. ‘Let go of my rein this instant!'

Unperturbed, the man merely grinned, raising both of his hands to indicate that he no longer had control of her horse. ‘Off you go, my girl!' he drawled. ‘But do try to steer in a straight line, if you can possibly manage it!'

‘I say, steady on, Jess!' murmured Nicholas as Jessica, teeth gritted, flicked angrily at the reins to signal the mare to walk on. ‘This is no time to lose your rag—that's another good turn the chap's done us and that's a fact!'

Still fuming, his sister deigned not to reply. With a set face and a stiff back, she kept her eyes firmly fixed on the road in front of her and inched her way back into the fast-moving stream of traffic. Nicholas, having set about disentangling himself from the coils of rope that had held him upright, cast an anxious glance at her rigid expression and, recognising the warning signs, waited in breathless trepidation for the expected outburst which, to his intense surprise, failed to materialise.

The remainder of the journey was completed in total silence until, having reined in the mare outside the front entrance of the elegant Dover Street mansion currently occupied by the Beresford family, Jessica set the wheel brake and nudged her brother to get out of the gig.

For several seconds, she waited in expectation of the stranger dismounting in order to assist her to the ground. He, however, remained in his saddle and made no such move. Seething with frustration, she found herself obliged to shuffle awkwardly along the seat and summon Nicholas to hand her down.

No sooner had her feet reached the pavement than she turned towards the front steps and was just about to mount them when she heard the man call her brother's name.

‘Master Beresford!'

Swinging round, she was just in time to see the rider extracting a bulging package from his pocket. ‘Here you are, young man! Catch!'

Jessica's astonished eyes followed the trajectory of the bundle as the startled youth made a valiant but vain attempt to grab it in its flight towards the steps. Having had no difficulty in recognising the item as her own missing reticule, she quickly sidestepped and caught the object neatly between her outstretched hands.

‘My reticule' she exclaimed and hurriedly examined the interior of the crushed article. ‘But all of the money is still here!'

A suspicious frown appeared on her face and she demanded to know how the rider had come to be into possession of her property.

He inclined his head. ‘It would seem that your attacker dropped it in his haste to escape.'

Suddenly feeling very small and rather foolish, Jessica then found herself confronted with the inescapable fact that, no matter what her own private opinion in regard to this stranger, with his oh-so-toplofty condescension, might be, she was morally bound to express her gratitude for his assistance.

‘I am very much obliged to you, sir,' she ground out, again making ready to climb the steps. ‘Perhaps you would be so good as to remain with the gig while I acquaint my brother with the details of our unfortunate—escapade? He will, no doubt, wish to reward you for your efforts.'

‘No reward is necessary, Miss Beresford,' replied the now widely grinning horseman, sweeping off his hat in the most grandiose manner. ‘I am more than happy to have been of assistance, I assure you.'