NFH 04 Truce (Historic) (13 page)

She quickly made her way downstairs while keeping an eye out for traps. Her nerves were frayed. Damn that man. As soon as she was downstairs and she was positive that he wasn’t waiting for her, she went straight to the protective bosom of her mother and Lady Bradford, who were waiting patiently in the foyer. Heather was already gone. She was now officially a spinster. It was a shame and, although it was her future as well, she would never be anyone’s companion. She would be her own master.

“Shall we go?” she asked with a forced smile as she rushed them out the door.

“You’re certainly excited tonight,” her mother noted approvingly. Normally it was like pulling teeth to get Elizabeth out of the house for one of these affairs, but tonight she welcomed the safety that a ball offered. In fact, she fully planned on staying until they kicked her out.

She waited anxiously as her mother and Lady Bradford climbed into the dark carriage with the help of a footman. Her job, in her mind at least, was to keep a lookout for Robert. He was sneaky after all.

“Lady Elizabeth?” the footman said, waiting patiently for her to climb in as well.

“Thank you, Anderson,” she said, accepting his help. Once inside the dark carriage she immediately saw the other two women sharing the bench riding forward. With an inward sigh, she sat down on something rather firm and warm that definitely didn’t feel like a bench.

“I believe this seat is taken, Lady Elizabeth,” Robert drawled, startling her and making her jump off his lap. Somehow she tripped over her skirts in the process and would have landed on her mother and Lady Bradford if he hadn’t reached out and grabbed her by the waist. Before she could swat his hands away, he planted her on the seat beside him.

“What are you doing here?” she rudely asked, not really caring if she offended him.

“Elizabeth!” her mother hissed while Lady Bradford was trying her best to hide a smile.

“I’m here to escort two very beautiful women to the ball,” he said, winking across the carriage and making the other women giggle. He slid a sideways look her way and grinned.

She was beyond annoyed, but the other women didn’t seem to notice or care. That was fine. She could sit here and ignore his very warm body and the way he made her body tingle with anticipation of his touch. Once she was at the ball, she would avoid him all together.

Well, it would have been easy to ignore him if he hadn’t started to use his weight to push her against the wall. “Stop it!” she hissed.

“Stop what?” he asked innocently.

“You’re pushing me.”

“You must be imagining things. I haven’t moved.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine. We’re almost there anyway.” He pushed her again. She ground her jaw and accepted it. If this was his idea of revenge, then it was pathetic. She’d let him have it. It was simply childish. He’d certainly lost his touch over the years.

“We’re here!” Lady Bradford said cheerfully. Good. The faster she was able to get away from him the better.

Robert jumped out to help the other women out of the carriage first. When it was her turn, he held his hand out for her and she reluctantly took it. Once down she straightened her skirts and froze. Was there a draft?

“Elizabeth! Back in the carriage at once!” her mother hissed.

“What?” she mumbled as her mother and Lady Bradford practically shoved her inside. She fell back on the seat. When she looked down she couldn't help but gasp in shock. There was a long tear down her skirt right on the side where Robert had sat, showing her leg in all its glory. Her eyes shot up to his. He looked very amused and a bit smug.

“We’ll have to go home and change,” Lady Bradford said, sounding disappointed.

Elizabeth held up her hand. “No, please. I refuse to wreck everyone’s night over my carelessness. I must have caught the dress on a nail, a very sharp one from the looks of it.” Her gaze shot to Robert, who looked oddly triumphant. “I apologize,” she said tightly.

“Are you sure?” her mother asked, looking torn between going with her and enjoying the ball of the year.

“Yes, I’ll be fine. Please go on. I’ll return as quickly as possible,” she said quietly. She was upset, but she didn’t want Robert to know. This was her favorite dress. Well, it hadn’t been a week ago, but that was not the point. He was going to pay for this.

Robert was the last one to move back. “Enjoy your evening.” He winked before turning to leave. Oh, she would enjoy it all right. She started plotting her revenge as soon as the carriage rolled away.

She was just formulating the perfect plan for revenge when the carriage came to an abrupt halt, sending her flying forward into the opposite seat. “Henry?” she called to the driver, worried that something had happened to the kind man that she’d know since she was a child. A gunshot rang out followed by another. “Henry!”

Seconds later the door jerked open, drawing her attention to the man standing there smiling at her. “Good evening, my dear, pleasant night for an elopement, isn’t it?”

Oh no, not him. She thought she’d rid herself of him last year when he’d been chased out of London by debt collectors. This was very bad. He was the worst sort of fortune hunter there was. He was also cruel and known to do whatever it took to get what he wanted and right now he wanted to force her into marriage. She was left with no other recourse but to pull back her fist and let it fly and that’s exactly what she did.

-
-
-

Robert couldn’t keep the satisfied grin off his face as he paced the ballroom. He ignored the eager widows sending him inviting glances, eager to share his bed, the bored wives sending him similar looks, the husband hunting school girls willing to do anything to be settled and kept an eye on the entrance, anticipating Elizabeth’s arrival.

He couldn’t wait. He was so damn giddy. This was going to be priceless. He almost wished that he could have seen her face when she realized that her wardrobe had been completely cleaned out except for a brand new gaudy looking gown that was hideously puke orange. She'd have no choice but to wear it and make his night. Life was good.

As he walked past the entrance steps to the ballroom a commotion in the foyer broke out. Footmen came running as they yelled for more guns. Robert didn’t think, he just ran. Something in his gut told him to move his ass and he did.

“Get them in the study and place a man at the door!” Lord Blackward ordered. "Get every man armed and call the magistrate. Someone go to Whites and get Lord Norwood immediately!”

“Get a surgeon!” a man yelled from the study.

Dread filled him. He ran past the footmen and a stunned Lord Blackward and followed the trail of blood soaking the expensive rug into the study. He saw her bloodied light green skirts almost immediately.

“Oh please, God, no,” he mumbled as he rushed inside

-
-
-

“Henry, relax!” he heard Elizabeth say.

“Are you okay, my Lady?” Henry asked, trying to sit up on the dainty couch.

“Yes, you did a very good job,” Elizabeth said, giving the servant a warm reassuring smile as she fussed over him.

As soon as he was close enough, Robert grabbed her by the shoulders and dragged her to her feet so that he could look her over. The front of her dress was covered in blood, but he couldn’t see any obvious wounds.

“Where are you hurt?” he demanded. When she didn’t answer him fast enough he shook her and yelled it. He hadn't realized his hands were trembling until he saw her shaking.

“M-my hand hurts, that’s all,” she promised. She showed him the back of her hand. It was already swollen. His eyes moved to her messy hair, a few cuts on her bare shoulder and to where her dress was ripped, exposing too much cleavage for his sanity. He removed his jacket and placed it on her shoulders.

“What happened?” he demanded.

She dropped back to her knees, pushing her arms through the sleeves so she could tend to Henry. “I’m so sorry, Lady Elizabeth. I didn’t know what they was about until it was too late.”

“
Shh
, nonsense. You did a fine job, Henry. A fine job. Now you just relax and let us help you.”

He closed his eyes and nodded. Robert could tell the man was in a great deal of pain, but didn't want to distress Elizabeth any further. “Get him some brandy,” he barked out at a footman. He looked back at Elizabeth. “I. Want. A. Name,” he bit out each word evenly.

“Edward Thompson, he’s been after m’lady for a while he has. Tried to take her tonight. She put up a fight, she did,” Henry said proudly, answering him before Elizabeth got a chance.

He knew the bastard. They'd attended school together. He was also a dead man. No one touched
his
minx and lived. He grabbed a gun from a passing footman and extra shot. “Lord Blackward, would you happen to have a good horse that I could borrow?”

“Robert, what are you doing?” Elizabeth asked.

“I’m going to kill Edward Thompson, of course.”

-
-
-

“Are you sure this is where he is?” Lord Blackward whispered over his shoulder.

Robert nodded to the older man. “You heard the landlady. He’s here.”

“How do you want to handle this?” Lord Blackward asked. He was practically on top of Robert. He had to shift again and step aside just for some breathing room.

“Have your men block the front and back doors. We’ll go in with a few men and grab him.”

“You weren’t serious about killing him, were you?” Lord Blackward asked, shifting nervously.

Robert double-checked his gun, making sure that it was loaded and ready. “If he tries to flee, I’ll shoot him dead before he can so much as take a step outside. Otherwise, I’m sure Lord Norwood would like to handle the matter personally. The man did try to abduct his daughter after all.”

“Right, right. Let’s go.” Lord Blackward nudged him. Robert led the way into the small rooming house.

“This way, sir,” the landlady said, gesturing for the men to follow her to the second floor.

“Knock on the door,” Robert ordered softly.

A loud whimper was the answer. After a slight pause, Robert opened the door. Holding his candle high along with his pistol, he walked into the room. The smell of fresh vomit and sweat reached his nose, nearly making him gag.

The whimpering continued. He looked at the cot only to find it empty. More light filled the room as men entered behind him, making the room nearly as bright as day.

“Good lord!” Lord Blackward gasped.

Edward Thompson lay on the floor, curled up into a ball with both hands clutching his groin. “She…wouldn’t…stop…..kicking…..” He vomited again. Every man in the room shifted and absently covered his own groin at the announcement.

Robert couldn’t believe his minx had taken this large man out. Worse, he couldn’t believe she was capable of this type of retaliation. Even after all the years of bullshit that he’d put her through, she’d never once went to kick him in the bullocks. Thank God for that!

The man was openly weeping now.

“What should we do?” Lord Blackward asked, shifting anxiously.

“Haul him in. Normally I would say that he’s suffered enough, but if she’s made him into a eunuch he’s going to want to kill her. Better leave this to her father and the magistrate to handle.”

“He’s crying,” Lord Blackward said in disgust.

“I know.” Robert bent over Edward, keeping his back to the rest of the men. “Edward, you tried to kidnap Lady Elizabeth?” he asked with barely restrained fury.

Edward nodded frantically. “I’ll admit it! Please just get a surgeon. I don’t want to lose my balls!”

Robert rolled him over. “This is for Elizabeth,” he whispered before he punched the man squarely in the jaw, breaking it with an audible crack and knocking the man out cold.

“What was that for?” Lord Blackward demanded.

“He was crying,” Robert said with a careless shrug as he headed for the door before he decided to kill the bastard.

-
-
-

Elizabeth was pacing the foyer when Robert strolled into the house along with her father, Lord Bradford and James. When she spotted them she stopped pacing at once. “Well?”

The men looked her over. She was wearing a long white cotton nightgown and a wrapper. Her father and Lord Bradford looked disapproving. James looked amused. Robert looked hungry, causing her to shift nervously.

“Go to bed, dear. It’s handled,” her father said as he kissed her forehead.

“Please tell me that he’s still alive.”

“He wishes he wasn’t,” James said with a chuckle.

“A little bit of an overkill, wouldn’t you say?” Robert asked. His eyes never left hers as he watched her possessively.

“I-I had to make sure he wasn’t getting back up.”

The rest of the men laughed louder at this while Robert continued to watch her. “Oh, believe me, my dear, he’ll never get up again,” Lord Bradford said.

Her face colored. She wasn’t exactly sure what they were talking about, but she had an idea thanks to that night in the orangery. She had kicked him pretty hard.

Repeatedly.

“From now on, you do not go anywhere without an extra man to watch you. Now go on up to bed and have Jane fetch you some tea.”

“I sent her to bed hours ago. I’ll just go to bed.” She threw one last look at the men. Obviously the man was alive. That was all she cared about. That and Robert was safe, but she didn’t want to look too deeply into that.

-
-
-

Robert waited an hour until the rest of the men were relaxed and deep in their card game before he excused himself for the night. He made his way upstairs. After a quick glance around the upstairs hallway, he went to the family quarters.

He already knew which room belonged to Elizabeth. Thanks to all the times he’d snuck into her room to place something gross or dead in her bed he knew the way by heart. He listened at the door before slowly opening it. His ears were met with light snores. Cute little snores, he thought.

The door shut quietly enough. After a slight pause he decided to take his boots off. He didn’t want to wake her as he crept over to her bed. The only light in the room came from the fireplace, making it hard to see where he was going. He threw on another log and went to the bed.