Athena's Ordeal (22 page)

Sabre had dozed off herself because a knock at the door awoke her.

The duke called out without even raising his head from the pillow. "Not now, Larkins!"

"Your grace, I - no, sir, you cannot do that!"

The door opened
 and it sounded like a scuffle. Quince sat up, shielding Sabre and she couldn't see who it was.

The duke sounded furious. "Good God, Robert, have you no decency?"

She peeked around Quince to see her brother standing in the open doorway, shaking off the butler, holding a bundle of clothing. He looked unusually pale and haggard.

"I need Sabre to come with me."

"No." Quince's voice rang with a final authority. His ducal voice.

"My men report that Viscount Bittlesworth left for the coast this morning." His gaze shifted to Sabre. "And he took the viscountess with him. Against her will."

Sabre felt her heart stutter in her chest. Mother was usually too clever to openly defy father. His temper was short and at times violent.

"Thank you for bringing us the news," Quince said, still using his austere
, commanding tone. He managed a surprising amount of poise for a man dressed only in a sheet. "I assume you and your men will handle it."

"I need Sabre with me."

"Why on earth would you take your sister into that?"

"Because she's the best shot, and perhaps the best fighter, among us. Further, she's the only one that father isn't likely to fire upon."

Even with the dire news, Sabre's heart glowed to hear her brother's compliment. But she knew he was gilding the lily to sway Quince to his plan.

"Are you sure that the viscount wouldn't shoot her?" Quince sounded both cynical and suspicious.

"Of course. He's not a complete monster."

But Sabre, who knew Robert so well, saw the truth. He had no such confidence
 that their father wouldn't be vicious to them if cornered. Yet they needed to try. And Robert, who had shouldered so much responsibility for seeing to her and her mother all these years was asking for her help.

"Don't be silly," she said to Quince, patting him on the arm. "I'll be fine. It's speed that is of the essence. We must catch them and ensure my mother doesn't get packed off in a boat. Then it would be so much harder to find her."

She determinedly kept her voice even and calm, to communicate that she wasn't worried at all about this mission. Inside, however, she was worried intensely. The fact that Robert seemed concerned was sobering. He dealt with vital international affairs with a steadier demeanor. What could his men have reported to him?

Quince finally turned to look at her. "I can't stand the thought of you being in danger."

"Don't be silly. I'm the one person who can do this and 
not
 be in danger. Pray for Robert and Charlie, father is much more likely to strike them." She looked back to her brother. "Thank you for bringing my riding clothes. Just leave them on that chair and I'll be dressed in a trice."

Robert set down the clothes, nodded, and withdrew.

Quince wrapped his arms around her. "I'm going with you."

She laughed. "No you're not. Father would definitely be happy to shoot you. I don't want you anywhere near him."

"You can't expect me to sit here and wait for you."

"No, I expect you to do something productive. Certainly you can think of something."

He held onto her tighter. "I don't want you to go."

She bit her lip to keep from expressing her true feelings. Her fear and helpless rage. "It's my mother, Quince. I have to go."

He looked down at her and nodded, rubbing her arms. "All right, then."

She was reminded of one of the first reasons she had fallen in love with him. His capacity to give others their freedom. No strings, no promises extracted. He offered an intoxicating blend of freedom and security. She had something she had to tell him, just in case.

"Quince?"

"Yes, love?"

She looked up into his spring green eyes, shadowed with worry for her. His blonde hair was tousled from sleep, his jaw rough with stubble. She cupped his face in her hands, careful to avoid the healing gash she had yet to learn more about. "I love you," she whispered.

He smiled and leaned his forehead on hers. "I know."

She laughed. "Rude!"

He caught her against himself and kissed her. Kissed her as though this could be their last kiss. Then he broke away, breathing hard. "You need to get dressed."

She nodded and ran to the pile of clothing that Robert had left. "So what will you do to be productive while I'm gone?"

He helped her on with her riding habit. "I have some things that I need to do at Belle Fleur." The answer was evasive, but she didn't have time to question him further.

"Perfect! Then I will meet you there after I have mother settled."

"You sound very confident."

"Of course. I always get what I want, remember?"

He chuckled. "How could I forget?"

She was ready and he had pulled on his breeches and shirt from the night before. Honestly, if everyone looked as good in dishabille as the duke it would set a fashion. He held out his elbow to her. "Let's get you downstairs before Robert wears a hole pacing on my carpets."

By the time she came downstairs Charlie had arrived with his best horses and there was a sweep of activity that had her mounted and riding out much faster than she would have wanted. She looked back over her shoulder to see Quince standing on the steps, arms crossed and lips drawn in a worried line. Not wanting to see him so grim she smiled and blew him a kiss. He gave her a half-smile in return, pretending to catch the kiss and hold it against his heart. The scene made her own heart trip and she faced forward again before she turned into a complete ninny and started crying. At least he would be safe from this confrontation.

"How did you convince his grace not to come with us?" Robert asked over the sound of trotting hooves.

"He trusts me."

"Well. I guess he'll learn better than that."

She g
lowered at her brother. "No, he won't."

Robert laughed. "At least you sound more like yourself again."

Quince wasn't able to settle himself for worry about Sabre after she left. Rather than continue to pace and climb the walls in London he called for his horse to be readied for a trip to Belle Fleur. He didn't fancy a carriage ride just now. It might be some time until he could enjoy travel by carriage again. Before he left town, however, he realized he should call on the Harringtons. They were as involved in all this mess as anyone now, and would appreciate an update. He dressed to be at least respectable enough to call on an earl and countess.

Dibbs took him in at once, of course, then intoned that he would see if his lord and lady were in for receiving. Quince waited in the front parlor. There were three paintings here that Gideon had purchased on his recommendation, so he did his best to focus on them despite his unsettled stomach. As well as being lovely to behold they would hopefully prove to be a worthwhile investment.

"Hullo, Quince. My apologies you had to wait." Gideon entered the room and slapped the duke on the shoulder, turning to look at the same painting Quince had just been studying. "I will never entirely understand the appeal art has for you."

"Undoubtedly."

Jack entered the room and held out her hands to him. "Quince!"

"How is Miss Frederick?"

"She's fine, would you like to see her?"

The duke shook his head. "I only wanted to give you both an update before I ride on to Belle Fleur."

"Has something happened?" Jack asked, betraying some tension.

"The Bittlesworth siblings have ridden out this morning in pursuit of the viscount. He has decided to flee and is taking the viscountess with him under duress."

Jack covered her mouth in shock. "Oh no!"

Quince gave voice to what was bothering him. "Of course, I didn't want Sabrina to go, but Robert insisted she was needed."

Gideon frowned. "Why?"

The duke frowned. "He said she was the best shot and further, the viscount is least likely to turn his anger against her."

Gideon raised a brow at his wife, "Oh?"

Jack caught her breath but said, "Yes, I can understand that."

There was something in the countess's reaction that made Quince worry but the earl distracted his attention before he could focus on it.

"Why didn't you go with them?" Gideon demanded.

Quince felt himself withdraw into a cool hauteur. "I have things to attend to at Belle Fleur."

The earl looked offended. "Things more important than keeping your wife safe?"

"They aren't married," Jack pointed out.

"They will be," Gideon insisted.

"As charming as this visit has turned out to be," the duke drawled, "I find I must be going."

“The hell you are. Explain to me how you’ll live with yourself if something happens to her while you’re spending your leisure at Belle Fleur?”

“Is that what you think I’ll be doing?” Quince felt all the tension and worry bleed into fury instead. “Wiling away my time? Regardless of what you may think, Giddy, it was no easier for me to let her go this morning than it would be for you. The only difference is that I respect her enough for her to make her own decisions. And I
am
trying to keep her safe. Draco is more of a threat than Cygnus. I must find a way to neutralize the dragon and I think the key is at Belle Fleur.”

“What makes you think that?”

“Because it has to be. If it isn’t… The other alternative is less pleasant.”

“What other alternative?”

“I will remove the threat in whatever way necessary.”

Gideon paused. “Do you need help at Belle Fleur?”

“No, I need you to protect my sister.”

The earl nodded
in understanding.

“And if you could…” Quince swallowed and set his jaw. “If you could send word when the Bittlesworths return. Whether… whether Sabrina is all right.”

“Of course.”

After the duke left, Jack sat down heavily in one of the plush side chairs along the parlor wall. Gideon immediately came to kneel before her. "What's wrong? Are you feeling ill?"

She shook her head. "They lied to him. I don't know why they lied to him."

"What do you mean?"

"Sabre is a crack shot, but she's rarely bested Robert. She and I are about even with pistols."

"Why didn't you tell Quince that?"

"Because I'm sure Robert said it for a reason, I just don't know what that reason might be. Unless..."

"Unless what?"

She worried her fingernail for a moment. "One of the games we played as children was 'Rob the Coach'. It's possible Robert is thinking to use those tactics here. Since Quince didn't play he wouldn't know what to do, so they would discourage him from going with them."

"So you're telling me that the Bittlesworth siblings are considering using a children's game to save their mother?"

"Sabre's mother. Robert and Charlie’s mother was the first viscountess. And we were all fairly serious about our games, thank you very much. Unfortunately for them, I was always in charge of 'Rob the Coach' because I wanted to be Robin Hood."

Gideon gave a wry laugh and took her hands, resting his forehead against them. "Of course you did. And you are not going after them to reprise the role."

"No. I wouldn't even know where to start looking for them."

He looked up at her, eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Promise me you're not going after them."

"Of course not. Why would I?"

He continued to stare at her until she fidgeted.

"All right, I promise."

He kissed her hand. "Thank you. One daring rescue is all that the future earl should engage in before his actual birth."

"It could be a girl, you know."
 She patted her stomach.

He stood and offered to help her up. "I shudder to think."

"Well?" Sabre demanded as soon as Charlie was in earshot. A drizzle had been falling since they left London and she didn't want to simply stand around in it any longer than she had to. Her brother shifted his gaze around the stable yard of the inn before responding.

"It sounds like they came through here less than an hour ago."

Robert kept his head down as he adjusted the saddle on his horse. "They are headed for
 King's Lynn, then."

Sabre nodded. "Most likely. Do you think your men will be in place in time?"

Robert squinted up at the sky. "It doesn't really matter, does it? We're going to try anyway."

The siblings were solemn as they mounted their horses and rode out in pursuit of the viscount.

Quince allowed Havers to take his dripping greatcoat. The butler murmured, "We're happy to have you returned to us, your grace."

"Thank you. Please ensure that my riders have a hot meal, it's been miserable outside. How does my coachman fare?"

Havers paused for moment. "Not well, your grace," he finally said gravely. "The doctor has made him as comfortable as possible."

"Is he... Will he live?"

Havers' normally pleasant expression was etched into a deep frown. "That is not certain, your grace. The doctor believes his leg may need to be amputated and, well..."

The duke nodded. "I would like to see him now, please. And afterwards I will need to talk to you."

"Yes, your grace."

As Quince followed Havers to the servant's quarters he thought it was only by the narrowest chance of timing that it wasn't him lying in bed, broken and dying. How many people were going to suffer for this vendetta? The dragon needed to be stopped. And Robert had much answer for.

Sabre recognized the carriage immediately, even through the rain. Father had ten outriders, large brutes of men, which meant he had been expecting trouble. The bridge where Robert's men waited in ambush could be no more than a mile away. She looked over at Robert and he nodded at her. She spurred her horse ahead as her brothers pulled to the sides of the road. Once she had drawn close enough that she could be heard, she started shouting.

"Mama! Mama!" She tried to infuse her voice with the proper amount of feminine distress. As she truly was terrified both for herself and her mother, it didn't require much acting.

The outriders reacted as they had expected, with a few drawing together to face her as the others stayed with the carriage. The carriage itself sped up as she drew near. The first of her tasks done, alerting her mother to their presence, Sabre didn't try too hard to get around the outriders. The last thing she needed was for one of them to grab her reins or start a true confrontation at this point. Now she would move on to her second task and try to keep these four riders occupied as the carriage rolled ever closer to their trap.

She recognized one of the riders and addressed herself to him. "Gavin, you can't keep me from my mother!"

"I'm sorry, Miss Bittlesworth, but your father's orders were clear. Nothing is to stop them."

She swiped at her cheek as though wiping away tears, although the rain made it unnecessary to shed any. "How can he do this to me?" She gave a choking sob. "They say he is planning to stay on the continent. I don't know if I will ever see her again!"

The rider looked uneasily at one of his compatriots. "I'm sure you'll see her again, Miss Bittlesworth."

She sniffed. "How can you say that, Gavin? You know what he's like."

One of the riders narrowed his eyes at her. He had a hardened look that concerned her. "We don't have time for this little bitch's whining."

With his words she could see the attitude of the group shift. He had reminded them that they were not here to listen to the weeping concern of a daughter, but to protect the lord who paid them. This man had no sympathy in his eyes, no softness. Within a few moments he would shift the entire tenor of the group, most likely leaving one rider to control her while the other three rejoined the carriage. As her job was to help draw riders off the carriage, his influence was counterproductive. She drew and fired on him point blank before any of them knew what she was about.

Fortunately her powder was still dry, even with the rain, and her aim true. The rider reeled back, falling off his horse. The poor beast panicked and danced in the mud, stomping on the fallen rider while he writhed and groaned. Sabre held her gun hand up in a neutral position while the remaining outriders drew their pistols on her.

Her demeanor had changed as she said in a deathly still monotone, "We will be retrieving my mother, Gavin. If you try to stop us you will end up like him."

At her use of "we" the riders started looking around frantically, turning their horses in the squelching mud. The carriage was almost out of sight, but one of the outriders that had stayed with it was riding toward them, most likely in response to the sound of gunfire. She had drawn five of them now and hoped that helped. This was far more complicated and nerve-wracking than any game they had ever played. The dying man continued to moan and twitch on the ground as the riders surrounded her, still watching the trees with their guns on her.

The approaching rider called out, "What happened? Did you shoot the girl?"

Gavin called back. "She shot Pinsmail."

Sabre recognized the approaching rider as one of the more senior of her father's guards. "Hullo, Waghorn," she called.

Waghorn swung from his saddle and pushed the loose horse out of the way to check on the fallen rider. Standing he said, "Did you do this, Miss Bittlesworth?"

She found that she couldn't quite make her gaze lower to look at the man she had shot. "I'm here for my mother, Waghorn."

He gave a surprised laugh. "I don't think so, my lady."

She raised a brow at him. "How do you plan to stop me? Would you shoot a nobleman's daughter?"

"Aren't you a cold thing? And here I always thought you took more after m'lady than m'lord."

"An even better question," she said, leaning forward and lowering her voice, "is how do you plan to stop my brother?"

He looked at her, considering. "Well, which brother would that be, miss?"

She smirked. "Either of them. They’re both here."

Waghorn took up his reins and made to mount. "Leave her," he ordered, "we need to get back to the carriage."

But the sound of gunfire made it clear that they were too late. The four of them set off at a gallop, leaving her with the dead man. Charlie came trotting out from the cover of the trees. "Are you all right, little bird?"

She nodded and blew out an unsteady breath. "We should go help Robert."

Charlie dismounted to catch the loose horse. "No, I'm charged with ensuring you stay alive. Something, I would like to point out, that you were making fairly difficult. They were too close on you for me to even attempt a shot from any distance." He smiled up at her. "And I didn't have the advantage of your fair sex if I were to close with them."

"They wouldn't want to shoot any of their lord's children."

Charlie laughed. "Second sons are merely inconvenient. Inconvenient to have and inconvenient to lose. You don't fire a servant over an inconvenience."

"Charlie!"

He patted her knee and looked up at her with a smile. "Are you sure you're all right?"

She looked at the horse he was leading. "I will be. Eventually." She looked back in the direction the coach had gone. "Are you sure Robert doesn't need us?"

"It's Robert, dearest. Stop worrying." He mounted his horse and tied the stray to his saddle. "He will send for us when he needs us. But we can walk in that direction if it makes you feel better."

She nodded and started off at a faster pace than Charlie. Then a thought struck her and she looked back. "Do you know what happened to Quince?"

"Quince?" he asked. "Do you mean his grace, Beloin?"

"Yes, the duke. How did he get those cuts and bruises?"

Charlie narrowed his eyes. "What bruises?"

Sabre huffed. "Charlie, just answer the question!"

"I am given to understand that his grace stumbled into a gunpowder plot. A bridge was blown out underneath his carriage."

She gasped. "Was anyone hurt?"

"Two fine greys died, which was quite careless of him. Other than that, not that I've heard of."

As she sat still, silent and frowning, he caught up to her.

"What is it between you and Beloin, then?" he asked.

"I love him, Charlie."

"Any idiot could figure that out. What are his plans?"

"I couldn't say."

"He'll not make you his doxy," he warned.

She smiled at him a bit sadly. "I love him, Charlie," she repeated.

His normally affable expression changed to something colder. "That's how it is, then? If these horses weren't so tired I would ride back to London now to beat him."

"Don't be like that Charlie."

"How do you want me to be, Sabre? You're my sister."

"I know, Charlie, and I hope that as my brother you will stand by my decision, whatever that might be."

He stared ahead, his jaw rigid. "Don't try to manipulate me into your way of thinking. It's wrong and you know it."

"Last month I would have agreed with you. Now..." She lapsed into silence, not sure how to explain her change of heart to her brother. She gave him a rueful smile. "I hope that when you fall in love it isn't so complicated."

"How can you love a man who would treat you like this?" he insisted.

Sabre realized she heard her own judgments of Jack reflected in Charlie's question. "I knew that I was in love with him when I couldn't stand the thought of him being hurt. I left him, thinking that if I broke it off then I would stop caring so much."

"Perhaps you didn't stay away from him long enough."

"It felt like a thousand years." She sighed. "I don't know how to explain it, Charlie. I have to be with him. No matter what."

They heard the sound of hooves in mud and tensed, worried that it might be their father's outriders again. Instead, Robert and his group of men rode into view. The viscountess was seated safely in front of her brother, and her mother's maid was astride a horse with one of his men. Sabre's heart sped in her chest. One small victory out of all the challenges they faced, but such a relief. "Mama!" she said, and heard her own voice break on the word.

"Sabrina! When I heard that shot I was so worried! Your father wouldn't stop the carriage but he sent his man back to check on you."

"I'm fine, mama."
She hesitated. “Where is papa?”

Robert answered. “He has gone on to his ship.”

"Sabrina and I have procured a horse for you, maman," Charlie said.

Robert raised an eyebrow at his brother and Charlie tipped his head in the direction of the original rider. Robert signaled two of his men to check on the fallen man.

"You know I'm not much for riding, Charlie," the viscountess said.

"Perhaps Sabre will let you double up with her, maman," Robert said. "Even the two of you together are hardly a load for any horse."

"Of course," Sabre said.

Robert dismounted to transfer the viscountess onto the back of Sabre's horse. "Take her to my house," he said. "Charlie, stay with them."

"Of course," his brother replied. He turned the reins of the stray horse over to one of Robert's men. Although some of the men nursed injuries it didn’t look like Robert had lost any of them.

Sabre was happy to have her mother secured, but very much wanted to leave for Belle Fleur. Hopefully tomorrow she would be able to get away.