My Favorite Major (Heroes Returned Book 1) (24 page)

She blinked up at him, and unshed tears threatened to spill down her cheeks. “This is all my fault.”

He scoffed, though he hadn’t meant to. “Amelia, nothing is your fault. You’ve done nothing wrong, love.”

“
But if Mr. Mason hurts Papa…”

“
He can’t even have an inkling of your father’s plans. He hasn’t seen him for weeks, and, as we speak, the authorities are looking for Mason. I’m certain they’ll have him in their custody before your father can move forwards with his new course.”

“
I hope you’re right, but I can’t—”

Whatever she meant to say was drowned out by the sound of a pistol. A cry of pain seemed wrenched from one of the horses, and the carriage jerked forward, then toppled on its side, sliding quite some distance.

Amelia screamed and would have banged her head on the wall of the coach if Philip hadn’t clutched her to him and taken the brunt of the fall with his back. As soon as the coach came to a stop, Philip thrust Amelia from him, looking her over for scrapes, cuts, or other injuries. “Are you all right?” he rasped, smoothing her tumbled flaxen hair from her face.

Her blue eyes wide in panic, she shook her head. “You’re injured.”

Was he? Philip looked down at his arm, which did pulse a bit with pain. Blood soaked his sleeve. What the devil had happened? “Byrne! Kelly!” he called just as an angry voice bellowed from outside, “Come on out, Moore!”

Amelia gasped and clutched Philip’s lapels in her hands. “Mason,” she whispered, her pretty face a mask of fear.

Dear God. How the devil had the man evaded everyone looking for him, only to turn up now?

Philip glanced at the coach door, closed above their heads. At least Mason couldn’t throw it open and drag Amelia out. It was the one benefit to a toppled, upended coach. Philip would feel a bit better about the whole situation if either Kelly or Byrne had returned his call. But even if he had to go it alone, this madness would end today.

He brushed his lips across his wife’s brow, hoping to calm her fears. “Stay here,” he said, then he retrieved a pistol from his overturned satchel near his feet and pushed open the door.

Amelia grasped at his arm. “Please don’t go out there. You’re injured and—”

And he wouldn’t sit around and make it easy for Mason to pick them off. Philip shook his head, frustrated he couldn’t abide by her wishes, but he could not. Mason had already shot him in the back once. Mason had most likely shot Alan Pritchard in the back. Philip couldn’t ever let Mason take aim at Amelia. “I’m a battle-trained officer, love. I do know what I’m doing.”

He tucked his pistol into the waist of his trousers and cautiously poked his head outside, up through the open doorway. He didn’t see Mason anywhere. Nor did he see either of his Irish guards. Philip pulled himself out of the opening and then dropped to the ground with a thud.

Pain burst from his wounded leg when he landed on his feet. He nearly saw white from the pain, but he pushed through it, staying close to the overturned coach for whatever cover it afforded him.

He started towards the front of the carriage and he winced when he spotted one dead bay a few feet ahead. Then dread washed over him as he discovered Byrne’s lifeless body, partially crushed under what was left of the coachman’s box.

Dear God. The man had a wife and child on the way. They were more names to add to Mason’s list of victims.

He tried to relax his injured arm, as he was most definitely going to need the damn thing to protect both Amelia and himself. “Mason?” he called, limping around to the front of the coach, careful to navigate Byrne’s inert form.

Once at the front of the conveyance, Philip breathed a sigh of relief when he found Kelly, blood trickling down his brow but still alive, leaning against the side with a pistol gripped in his hand. The Irishman gestured with his head towards a copse of trees not far away. “Yer Welshman rode in there,” he heaved as though he was trying to catch his breath.

Mason was seeking cover behind foliage, was he? Philip acknowledged Kelly’s words with a nod. “You’re hurt.”

“
As are ye.” Kelly’s eyes dropped to Philip’s arm.

Nothing to be done about either of them now. Mason wouldn’t wait for them to be all healed before mounting his second attack.

“
Is Mrs. Moore all right?” Kelly whispered.

“
Yes,” he muttered, not wanting to think about his wife at the moment, not wanting to imagine how worried and scared she must be. “But if I don’t make it…”

Kelly frowned at him. “Ye dinna drag yerself off that field in Belgium ta be killed by that coward here.”

No, he hadn’t. But neither had Byrne. “Just make sure she’s all right.”

Kelly nodded once, apparently not willing to say anything else.

Philip glanced back towards the copse of trees. “Show yourself, Mason,” he called.

But there was no answer.

Philip and Kelly exchanged a glance, and the Irishman shrugged. “I saw him ride in there, right before you climbed out that door.”

So then, what was the man doing? Philip cupped a hand to his mouth and called again, “I know you’re out there, Mason.”

Amelia pressed herself against the wall of the carriage, hoping to get some clue as to what was happening on the other side. She thought she heard whispers, which hopefully meant Philip had found Byrne and Kelly.

She wanted to climb out of the coach just as Philip had done, but worried that her presence would only serve to distract her husband, which was the last thing she wanted and the last thing he needed. And
she
didn’t have a weapon of any sort. She would only be in the way.

But the waiting and the not knowing had her nerves more than on edge. She could barely breathe, standing there, waiting for something to happen.

And then another gunshot sounded from right outside the coach.

“
Damn,” Kelly grumbled. “I thought I had him.”

Philip hadn’t been so sure. The trees had moved slightly in the copse, but he thought it more likely the wind than Mason making his presence known. “Stay here, I’m going around to the other side. See if I can get a better view.”

Just as Philip took a step to head back the way he’d come, he heard the pounding of hooves against the ground; the sound brought memories of Major-General Alten’s light cavalry rushing past 45th into the fray that was Vitoria rushing back to his mind. He stopped where he stood, then looked back over his shoulder to find Mason atop a black hunter barreling towards the overturned coach, a pistol aimed directly on Philip.

Everything else was a blur. He barely registered Kelly’s scream as the Irishman threw himself in front of Philip as a shield. But he doubted he’d ever forget the mixed expressions of horror and surprise all rolled into one as Kelly dropped to the ground at Philip’s feet.

Dazed and slightly numb, Philip raised his injured, shaking arm to take aim at the Welshman, but before he could fire, Mason fell from his saddle at the exact moment the sound of another gunshot from the east reached Philip’s ear. His gaze flashed from downed villain to another rider, racing towards the scene.

Blackaby?

Philip dropped to the ground beside Kelly’s fallen form, and his heart leapt to his throat. Blood trickled from Kelly’s slightly open mouth.

“
Br—i—dg—et,” the Irishman struggled to say.

The man’s sister. Philip clutched Kelly’s hand in his. “I’ll see to Bridget. I swear it.”

After a final sigh that seemed wrenched from his soul, Kelly’s chest didn’t rise again and his open eyes stared unblinkingly heavenward.

Tears of senseless loss streamed down Philip’s face. He swiped at them roughly and stared out towards the field where Mason was pulling himself off the ground. But before the man could find his feet, Blackaby’s horse reached him. The Runner leveled his pistol at Mason and ordered him to stay where he was. How in the world had Blackaby found them in the middle of nowhere?

“
Mrs. Moore,” Mr. Blackaby said from the open doorway above Amelia. “Are you all right?”

Amelia blinked at the Runner. Where had he come from and where was Philip? “My husband…?”

“
A little worse for the wear, but he’ll be fine.” Then Mr. Blackaby leaned through the opening and plucked her from the overturned coach, setting her on top of the conveyance.

Her eyes scanned the field until they landed on Philip, his eyes red-rimmed, his arm looking limp. Amelia slid down the side, not caring in the least when her skirts were torn by broken carriage parts on her way down. As soon as her half-boots found purchase on the ground, she dashed to where her husband stood and threw her arms around his middle.

“
Oh!” she gushed. “I was so worried. I thought—”

But she didn’t finish her sentence because Philip fiercely clutched her to him and held her so tightly, she couldn’t think straight. “Thank God you’re all right, love,” he whispered against her hair.

But he wasn’t all right. He’d been injured once again because of her. “I’m so sorry… for everything.”

He shook his head, unable it seemed to find words. Then he glanced behind her and heaved a sigh. “If you hadn’t appeared, Blackaby…”

Amelia turned around to face the Runner who had come from nowhere. Mr. Blackaby frowned. “I just wish I’d arrived sooner. I wasn’t quite prepared for a dawn departure, and I was further back than I should have been.”

“
You were following us?” Amelia asked.

The Runner shrugged. “Lieutenant Avery asked me to keep you in my sights.” He heaved a sigh and looked back at the carnage behind them. “If I had been here sooner, your man would still be alive. I am sorry.”

Their man? Amelia glanced up at her husband and once again noted his red-rimmed eyes. “Byrne? Kelly?”

Philip swallowed and his expression darkened to pain. “Both, and if Blackaby hadn’t shown up when he did…”

Fortunately, he didn’t finish that statement because Amelia didn’t want to think along those lines. She turned her attention back the Runner and would have thrown her arms around him if that had been proper. She settled for pressing a hand to her heart. “Oh, Mr. Blackaby, we are forever in your debt.”

“
You can thank Lieutenant Avery, madam. I wouldn’t have been out here chasing after you if not for him.”

She would most definitely thank Lieutenant Avery, every day for the rest of her life.

“
I’m going to ride back towards Maidenhead and send someone out for the coach and for
him
.” Mr. Blackaby gestured to a large tree several yards away, and Amelia realized Geoffrey Mason was bound and tied to it. “Shall I take Mrs. Moore with me?”