Intriguing Lady (25 page)

Polly saw the gun pointed at her, and with a final gurgle of terror, she fainted away.

At that moment the carriage door nearest the house swung open, and the comte climbed in. As he took his seat, Roberta stood up and quickly pushed her handkerchief out of the window.

“Sit down, Mademoiselle Rushforth,” the comte said. “We have a long way to go, and you will be more comfortable seated.”

Roberta did as he suggested but refused to acknowledge his presence. She kept her eyes firmly on the window, craning her neck to keep Davids in sight as the coach moved off. Just as they rounded the bend in the road, she saw the shadowy form of Davids cross the street and stoop to retrieve her handkerchief.

Her despair of a few moments ago diminished slightly, and she turned to face the comte with calmness.

“I trust I have not put you to too much inconvenience, Mademoiselle Rushforth,” the comte said smoothly. “And I see we have the pleasure of your maid’s company in place of the redoubtable Mrs. Ashley. Will you not introduce us?”

“I have nothing to say to you, monsieur,” Roberta responded haughtily, “except that I think you are the most despicable man it has been my misfortune to meet.”

He laughed and reached out to touch her, then laughed again when he felt her shudder. “Really, mademoiselle? I feel confident you will change your mind when we reach France. Especially when Sir Nicholas will no longer be able to help you and I am the only friend you have.”

Roberta shook her head, stubbornly refusing to let his taunting frighten her. She would endure anything rather than give him the satisfaction of seeing her concern.

“If she thinks by ignoring me, Stephen,” the comte continued genially, “I will tire of her company, she will find she is mistaken. Did you not tell her that I always get what I want?”

“I did, monsieur. She will come around in time, I’m sure.”

Roberta bit hard on her lower lip to prevent herself from uttering the words of protest that sprang to her mind, and pulled her arm away from the comte’s grasp. Sir Nicholas might not love her, but he wouldn’t act in the cowardly fashion Stephen had just suggested. And as she pondered Stephen’s words, she felt a sudden rush of excitement. He had said, ‘will refuse’! Surely that would indicate that Sir Nicholas was still alive, and if he was still alive, there was yet hope that Davids would be of some help once they reached Richmond.

Feeling somewhat comforted by her thoughts, Roberta drew her cloak about her and closed her eyes.

“It would appear that mademoiselle is tired, Stephen,” the comte said. “Perhaps we should let her rest, for once we leave Richmond, there will be little opportunity to sleep.”

Roberta sighed in relief. Her ruse to silence the men had worked, and she felt she had gained a little victory.

They sped through the night. Through half-closed eyes, Roberta saw Polly stir. For a moment, she was afraid the girl would draw attention to herself and thus be subjected to further taunts from the comte. But Polly, after opening her eyes to look about her, closed them firmly again. The problem of what to do with Polly once they had reached Richmond was still weighing heavily on Roberta’s mind when Stephen’s voice broke the silence.

“How much further?” he inquired of the comte.

“We’ll be there in a few minutes,” he responded. “I’ll leave Jacques in charge of the two ladies. You and I will have enough to do in taking care of Sir Nicholas.”

“I told Jacques to conceal the coach in the copse at the end of the lane,” Stephen said. “I thought it best not to herald our arrival by driving up to the house. There is a side entrance we can use—”

“Good,” the comte said with a grunt. The coach came to a halt. “Get down, Stephen, and ask Jacques to join me.”

Roberta closed her eyes tightly, feigning sleep, but the awkward swaying of the carriage indicated that Stephen had gone and the coachman had entered.

“Jacques,” the comte murmured softly, “don’t let these two ladies out of the carriage. “We’ll be back anon. I don’t think they will attempt to escape, but have your pistol ready just in case.”

Jacques didn’t respond, but Roberta imagined him nodding. Then the carriage swayed once more, and she knew that the comte had departed. She opened her eyes, and immediately Jacques leveled his pistol at her.

“What is going to happen to me?” she asked. When he shrugged uncomprehendingly, she repeated the question in French.

“Be quiet,” he snapped.

“Do you mind if I lower the window a little more?” she asked in subdued tones. “I’m feeling a trifle faint.”

Jacques nodded his approval.

She moved slowly, for her legs were cramped from having sat too long. She pushed the window down and inhaled the fresh air greedily. As she did so, she peered through the trees and saw a forbidding-looking house, bathed in moonlight. Its square, ugly structure threw black shadows on the surrounding area. She wondered if the coachman would shoot her in the back if she dared make a dash for it, and her fingers closed about the handle on the door. It moved beneath her touch, and the door flew open. She grabbed wildly for any kind of support, but it was in vain. She tumbled down to the ground, and a searing pain shot up her leg. She bit fiercely on her lower lip to prevent herself from crying out, and suddenly her mouth was filled with her own blood.

“Get up slowly, mademoiselle,” Jacques ordered brusquely. He had jumped down after her and was now standing over her.

“I don’t
thin
k I can manage,” she gasped as she struggled to stand.

He reached down and grasped her hand. As he did so, Roberta saw the shadowy figure of another man behind him, his right arm raised, and his hand clutching a thick stick.

She screamed and fainted.

Chapter 19

After Davids had rendered the coachman senseless, he bound the man’s arms with his muffler and used a handkerchief to gag him. Then he dragged him to some nearby bushes and rolled him under them.

“That should suffice for the time being,” he muttered, and hurried over to Roberta, whom he picked up with ease and placed gently on the coach floor.

“Polly, are you there?” he inquired softly. “Are you all right?”

“Dickie, is that really you?” Polly shrieked, and, without any thought for her own safety, she threw herself into his waiting arms. She started to sob hysterically, and Davids quickly covered her mouth with his.

“Hush, hush, my dearest,” he whispered at length. “We haven’t much time.”

“Oh, Dickie!” she mumbled as she tried to control her sobs. “If only I had known you were following us. I’ve been so frightened. And Miss Roberta was so brave. How did you know I was here? Oh, Dickie! I’m ever so glad to see you.” Her words tumbled out in a rush.

“Not half as glad as I am to see you, love,” Davids interposed quickly when she paused for breath. “Now, take a deep breath to steady your nerves while I decide what’s to be done. We none of us expected the complication that you and Miss Rushforth would be in the carriage with the comte. Although, now that I think on it, I blame myself entirely for not being suspicious when Lord Bromley’s footman told me that you and Miss Rushforth had gone to visit Lady Anita. We’d best get to Sir Nicholas and let him know his plan has gone awry.”

“It’s too late,” Polly gasped. “That awful man and Mr. Davenport have already gone to the house. They said something about Lord Bromley and Sir Nicholas “walking into a trap.”

Davids swore softly under his breath. “Then we have even less time than I thought.” He lowered Polly to her feet and gave her a reassuring squeeze. “You’ll have to walk, love, while I carry Miss Rushforth. Hold on to my coattails if you get nervous.”

Polly nodded and watched as he gathered Roberta into his arms.

“We’ll circle round to the stables, kitten,” Davids murmured as they started walking, “and see if Sir Nicholas is there. I was supposed to meet him there later tonight if everything went according to plan. Mayhap we can catch him before it’s too late.”

Polly, emboldened by his words of endearment, kept close to his side, and they continued to walk in silence.

They had almost attained the stables when they were arrested by the sound of an approaching carriage. Davids lengthened his stride and entered the stables just as the carriage pulled into the driveway.

Sir Nicholas appeared immediately. “What on earth are you doing here so soon, Davids—” he began, breaking off when he recognized Roberta. He stepped over and relieved Davids of his burden. “What, in heaven’s name, is the meaning of this? Is she badly injured?” he asked urgently.

He looked down at Roberta tenderly and tightened his grip as she stirred slightly. Her pallor gave him cause for concern.

“It’s just her ankle, I think, Sir Nicholas. She fainted before I could ask her any questions.”

“Was she alone?”

Davids shook his head. “Polly was with her, and the comte’s coachman. I left him under some bushes.”

“Then who has just arrived?” Sir Nicholas queried.

“That must be Jenkins, sir. You see, with Miss Rushforth and Polly’s being in the comte’s carriage, we thought it best not to stop him as planned.”

“What on earth were they doing in the comte’s carriage?” Sir Nicholas asked, and then shook his head. “On second thought, you can tell me later. What’s more important at the moment is the whereabouts of the comte.”

“Polly thinks both he and Mr. Davenport have gone into the house.”

“In that case, I think I’ll follow them,” Sir Nicholas said tersely. “You take Polly back to the coachman in case he comes to, and on your way, inform Jenkins to stay outside until he hears from me.”

“Yes, Sir Nicholas,” Davids responded, and slipped back outside, taking Polly with him.

Sir Nicholas, carrying Roberta, followed moments later. He walked boldly across the front lawns and entered the house by the main door.

Lord Bromley hurried out of one of the side rooms and joined him. I think I just heard a carriage,” he said, and then broke off as he saw Roberta. “It can’t be!” he exclaimed. “What has happened?”

“I don’t know, John,” Sir Nicholas answered. “Davids found her outside with one of the comte’s men.”

“The fiend!” Lord Bromley shouted. “If he has harmed her in any way, he’ll suffer for it!”

Sir Nicholas gave a short laugh. “He’ll pay for it with his life, John. Both he and Davenport are somewhere inside the house. We had best wait for them in here.”

He strode into the dimly lit gaming room and placed Roberta gently on a couch. Kneeling beside her he took one of her hands and massaged it tenderly. She looked so frail and lifeless, and his concern for her deepened. He felt powerless to resist the urge to kiss her, and, without pausing to consider Lord Bromley’s presence, he brushed his lips against her cheek. She stirred, and this time she opened her eyes. She touched her cheek where he had kissed her and stared at him in breathless wonder. There was so much she wanted to say, but she seemed to have no control over her thoughts. She struggled to sit up, but Sir Nicholas held her down firmly.

“Stay where you are, my darling,” he whispered tenderly. “You had a nasty fall.”

She reached out and caressed his face, tracing a line from his forehead to his mouth. It was, she realized, something she had long wanted to do.

He kissed her again, this time on her eyelids, and she trembled in ecstasy.

“Oh, Nicholas, Nicholas, you’re alive!” she cried. “I was certain I would be too late.”

Lord Bromley hurried to her side and gripped her other hand.

“Roberta, tell us what happened,” Sir Nicholas said, ignoring Lord Bromley. “It’s important we know.”

“I think I can answer that question for you, Sir Nicholas. Mademoiselle Rushforth has foolishly tried to escape from me.”

Sir Nicholas stiffened at the sound of the comte’s voice and reached inside his jacket for his pistol.

Lord Bromley quickly put a restraining hand on his arm. “Be calm, Nicholas, my boy,” he growled. “The comte is holding Davids.”

Sir Nicholas rose slowly to his feet. “It would appear Miss Rushforth has succeeded, Monsieur le Comte,” he bluffed in a calm voice. “It must irk you to know that a woman has outwitted you.” He swung round and swore softly when he saw that the comte was holding a gun to Davids’s head. Something had gone dreadfully wrong with his carefully laid plans.

“Move away from the couch,” the comte ordered brusquely. “And don’t make any sudden moves, else this man of yours, Sir Nicholas, dies.”

Both Lord Bromley and Sir Nicholas complied, and the comte quickly propelled Davids to the couch. He positioned himself so that Roberta lay between himself and the two men. Then, without warning, he twisted Davids’s arm back with a savage jerk.

“Now, gentlemen,” the comte said, “if you would be good enough to throw down any weapons you happen to have, I think I can accomplish my goal without bloodshed.”

Sir Nicholas shrugged in resignation. While Roberta was in such a vulnerable position and the whereabouts of Stephen and Polly unknown, he dared not disobey. He pulled out one of a pair of small dueling pistols he was carrying, from his jacket. He let it rest in his hand for a moment before leaning over to place it on a small low table close to Roberta’s right hand.

Sir Nicholas stepped back quickly to Lord Bromley’s side.

“Lord Bromley, where are your weapons?” the comte asked.