Miss Mischief - A Regency Romance (5 page)

‘Oh my God!’ he exclaimed. ‘Miss Claybourn, are you harmed? To be set upon in such a way -’

‘Now look ‘ere,’ said the first man who was obviously the mouthpiece for the pair. ‘There’s no need for this to get ugly. We’ll just be on our way, like and leave you folk to your business. No harm intended an’ all that.’

‘No harm intended?’ the girl said incredulously. ‘You tried to rob me!’

‘Ah well,’ the man wrung his hands and glanced at Hugo. ‘A mistake, that’s what it was. We’ll just be -’

‘Stay right where you are,’ Marcus said, the pistol in his hand never wavering. ‘I do believe this is a matter for the local magistrate.’

‘Magistrate?’ The second villain spoke for the first time, sounding deeply alarmed. ‘Er lumme!’

‘
I
will take them in charge,’ Hugo said stoutly, producing a sword from a sheath at his belt. Marcus wondered what kind of county he had wandered into that the gentry wandered around fully armed. Perhaps there was a deal more crime about than he’d assumed there to be in such a peaceful setting. He had not thought that Yorkshire would be so full of ruffians. It was certainly very odd that a young woman would be set upon in a forest.

‘Don’t trouble yourself,’ he said briefly. ‘If you could just tell me the direction of the fellow I need, I’ll deal with them. You might like to escort the young lady home, if you are both acquainted.’

‘That won’t be necessary,’ the gentleman said quickly. ‘I… I mean, it would be easier if you…’

‘Hugo,’ Miss Claybourn said irritably, ‘you are crowding Belle. Move that great fool of a beast away.’

Marcus looked towards the pair. Sure enough, the big stallion was taking an interest in the sorrel mare, tossing its head and prancing close to the smaller horse’s flank. The mare was snorting, growing more and more alarmed, tossing her own head and beginning to rear up, lifting her front legs off the ground in an effort to push the stallion back.

‘Hugo!’ the girl snapped, trying to bring her mount under control.

‘It’s all right,’ Hugo assured her. ‘I’ll just take the reins and hold her -’

It was the stupidest thing the young man could possibly have done because he could hardly hold his own horse. In an excess of idiocy, he tried to move the stallion forward, reaching for the mare’s bridle. Thoroughly spooked already, this move saw the little mare completely lose control and she gave a high-pitched squeal of fear and bucked. Already unsteady in his seat, Hugo was forced into clutching onto his own pommel to remain in the saddle. Miss Claybourn was not so lucky for Belle was beyond reason and continued to pitch about in an excess of highbred hysterics. The girl might have managed to retain her seat if Hugo’s great horse, by this time almost as excitable as the sorrel mare, hadn’t reared and kicked out himself. A final, heaving buck and the mare had tossed the girl off and bolted off, lunging around the stallion and heading through the trees, tearing past Marcus and his two captives at a great rate. Hugo, hardly faring any better himself, was forced to follow on as the stallion took off in pursuit of the mare, hooves thundering as he charged forward with the luckless Hugo clutching his hat and cursing the beast ineffectually, imploring it to give over.

Encouraged by this happy distraction, the two would be thieves took the opportunity to leg it, turning to pound off in another direction. Marcus looked at their retreating backs for a moment before regretfully thrusting the pistol into his belt and moving to assist the young lady who lay sprawled, none too elegantly, in a puddle.

She was, not to put too fine a point on it, spitting mad. Her mount had managed to tip her into three inches of muddy water that had no doubt formed during the rains the previous evening. Her deep green riding habit was no longer looking like the last word in fashion, soaked through as it was with mud.

‘Are you all right?’ he demanded, eyeing her with some concern. She had fallen heavily.

A small, flushed face looked up at him. She was, without a doubt, one of the most enchantingly pretty creatures he had ever seen. A wealth of silvery-fair hair had tumbled out from beneath the jaunty hat that she wore. It tipped drunkenly over her left eye. In startling contrast, those eyes were dark brown and rimmed with ridiculously long dark lashes. Such fair hair with those sultry dark eyes was a striking combination and he blinked, taken aback for a moment.

‘I am…’ she said breathlessly, ‘going to kill Hugo!’

‘Perfectly understandable,’ he agreed, for he had never seen such a bungled attempt at assistance in his life. ‘Can you rise? Would you like me to carry you?’

‘I am unhurt. I think,’ she added, grimacing a little.

‘Allow me.’ He held out a hand.

A small one was placed in his and he drew her upwards easily. She was a slip of a thing so it was not difficult. He had never seen anybody look so angry; she was like a small, spitting kitten that wanted to claw whatever it could get its paws on. She seemed to be undergoing some kind of inward struggle.

After a moment, the breath hissed out of her and she seemed to take herself in hand. ‘Honestly! Papa says I am not allowed to swear but… but…’

‘If ever there was an occasion to do so,’ he allowed gravely, his eyes travelling around, ‘this would be it. Are you alone out here?’

‘Of course I’m alone,’ she looked down at her hand, still enfolded in his and snatched it back, as if suddenly realizing that she did not know him.

‘I see.’ It was all he said but she picked up on his disapproval at once and the brown eyes narrowed a little.

‘I don’t require an escort on my own -’ she began, then paused, as though suddenly realizing that her current circumstances clearly suggested otherwise. ‘Well, normally I don’t require an escort. One cannot factor in idiocy, however.’

‘So footpads in the forest are not the usual way of things?’

‘Of course not! Nobody would ever dare to rob people around here.’

‘There is a public road not two hundred feet behind me,’ he pointed out. ‘Perhaps they were just walking along and thought they’d try their luck.’

‘I do not think so. In fact…well, I think I know what they’re doing here and I’m inclined to believe they were not proper footpads at all.’

This comment left him in the dark. ‘Not proper footpads? They certainly seemed to mean business.’ He waved his hand to the pistol he had removed off them.

The girl glanced at it. ‘It probably isn’t loaded.’

Marcus raised an eyebrow. Removing the weapon from his belt, he checked and discovered that she was right. The pistol
wasn’t
loaded. ‘Now how the devil did you know that?’

‘Hugo was here,’ she explained grimly, then glanced down at her clothes. She scowled. ‘Just look at me. And this is a new habit.’

‘Hugo… That young man… a local lad, I presume?’

‘Hugo Ballantine,’ she said, sounding utterly disgusted. ‘He is one of my neighbors.’ From the way she said it, he would not care to be in Hugo’s boots the next time they met. After shaking out her skirts, she looked up at him again. ‘I am perfectly all right,’ she assured him airily. ‘I thank you for your help but I would hate to keep you any longer.’

Marcus regarded the girl incredulously. She had just been set upon by thieves, had been thrown from her horse and appeared to be entirely unaccompanied and she was dismissing him? He didn’t think that she could be any more than seventeen or eighteen, which made it so much the stranger that she should be out without so much as a groom or a maid to accompany her. And this was not the local milkmaid. He did not profess to know a great deal about female fashion but a simpleton would have recognized that her clothing cost money and she had that particular air of privilege about her that the really wealthy frequently carried with them. Not always, of course. Some of his friends were absolutely flush with funds and perfectly decent with it but generally, those with money expected the world to give way before them. And more often than not, it did.

‘I will take you home, of course.’

‘There
really
isn’t any need.’

‘I beg to differ. Those two men are likely to be still about somewhere. I could not, in all conscience, allow you to return by yourself. Yorkshire must be very liberal minded, allowing a young lady to ride without the company of an appropriate guardian,’ he observed wryly, ‘but I am not so sanguine.’

‘But I don’t want you to accompany me home,’ she protested. ‘If my father discovers what happened today, then he will never let me go riding without a positive regiment of people coming along and that would be dreadfully tedious. I can assure you, I am in no real danger.’

‘What I witnessed today suggests otherwise. You really shouldn’t be out without an escort.’

‘I usually go out without an escort and am perfectly fine,’ she insisted. ‘Honestly, I have never seen anything more than one of the local woodsmen when I have been out. And Papa always makes such a fuss about everything.’ Her solitary state was suddenly beginning to make sense. It sounded very much like she had given her minders the slip and had gone off on her own.

‘I can’t imagine why he should do that,’ he said amiably. ‘Where do you live? Is it far?’

‘Cloverton Hall. Over there.’ She waved a hand towards the road behind him. ‘Not too far, I assure you.’

‘If you don’t object to getting in the saddle again, you can ride my mount. He is perfectly well behaved.’

The soft, full mouth tightened, just a little but she spoke with resignation. ‘You’re going to insist, aren’t you?’

‘I’m afraid so. Besides, even if your father doesn’t learn what happened here today from either of us, there is still Hugo. I daresay he will be able to speak of nothing else.’

‘Believe me when I say he is most unlikely to raise the subject. I can manage Hugo,’ she said grimly. ‘I just need to have a word with him before he sees anybody.’

‘Does he go in terror of you?’ he inquired in considerable amusement.

‘On the contrary,’ she bared small white teeth at him. ‘He likes to court my good opinion and has assured me that I need only name some great deed and he will perform it in my honor. After today,’ she added, with a sniff, ‘I might request that his great deed be to take himself off for a year or so. If Belle has gone and hurt herself I shall be furious.’

‘There’s always the possibility that Hugo himself has gone and hurt himself,’ he suggested, remembering how the stallion had paid his rider no heed.

‘I told him not to get that brute. It hasn’t been properly broken but his mother spoils him dreadfully and allows him to choose his own mounts. If he has gone and broken his leg it will be a salutary lesson for him,’ she added, sounding a little more cheerful at the prospect.

A cold-blooded chit, he thought with an inward grin. Although after the fellow’s ridiculous performance earlier, he could hardly blame the girl.

‘Please… take my arm.’

She looked at him a little indignantly. ‘I do not need your assistance, I can assure you. I am quite capable of walking.’

‘It is extraordinary that you were not hurt by that fall.’

‘Nothing more than bruises,’ she said cheerfully, as they began walking back towards Hermes. She had a good deal more fortitude than he might have expected and felt a twinge of admiration. It might be ridiculous to have gone off riding by herself but she did not seem overly perturbed by the situation she had found herself in. Many females of his acquaintance would be enjoying a fit of the vapors after such an experience. ‘I suppose I cannot convince you not to tell my father what took place today?’

He was relieved to see that she was moving without any difficulty. Good fortune had smiled for she had toppled off that horse quite heavily. ‘Somebody should.’

She gave him a sideways glance. ‘If you
do
happen to see Papa -’

‘You wish me to lie, Miss Claybourn?’

‘Well, no. But you could say that I fell from my horse and not offer any further details. It’s true, after all. Besides, I think I understand why I was set upon in such a way and I can assure you that I was no in real danger.’

‘Yes, so you have implied. Perhaps you would like to explain it to me?’

‘It was all Hugo’s fault.’

‘I don’t know about that,’ he demurred. ‘He might be a dozen kinds of young idiot but he did at least try and help you.’