The Highwayman's Daughter (19 page)

‘I don’t have time for physicians,’ Cora said. ‘I need to get home.’

‘You’ll get home soon enough, but not until I’m reassured that you’re well.’ Jack steered the horse towards the outskirts of the village.

Cora stiffened. ‘Where are you taking me?’

‘Somewhere you can be examined in some privacy.’

He didn’t mention his worry that the men might be looking for them, and the sooner he got her to safety, the better. The inn would be crowded, and even if the men managed to track them down, they would be safe enough inside. When Cora had been examined, he would send word to Lampton Hall for his carriage to be brought.

‘Let me go,’ Cora said and tried to wriggle away from his grasp, but she was either too weak or her struggling was half-hearted. Reassured that she wasn’t going anywhere soon, Jack kept a firm grip on her and pressed a kiss to her hair.

‘Are you always this querulous, even when a person has your best interests at heart?’

Cora didn’t answer. Instead her breathing became laboured as if she struggled not to vomit again. Jack sincerely hoped she wasn’t going to.

He stopped at an inn on Tyburn Lane and cast a quick look over his shoulder to see if they were being followed. There was no evidence that they were and he dismounted quickly to help Cora down. Stumbling, she held on to him for support, and Jack tossed the reins to a barefoot boy who was sweeping the yard with a broom that was too big for him.

‘See to my horse, and you will be generously rewarded,’ he said using his most authoritative voice.

‘Yes, m’lord.’ The boy jumped at the chance of earning a few coins and led the horse away.

‘They’ll be full,’ Cora scoffed weakly. ‘It’s hanging day.’

‘I’m a viscount. It might not be fair that my title gets me special treatment, but when your well-being’s at stake, I’m prepared to pull rank.’ He sent her a look of concern. ‘Can you walk unaided?’

‘You’re an ass, Jack.
Did anyone ever tell you that?’

‘Frequently.’

‘Of course I can walk. I wish you’d stop fussing. They didn’t strike me that hard. I … Oh!’

Jack caught her just in time, as, with a stifled moan, she went limp in his arms. His heart thudding violently against his ribcage, he lifted her and pushed open the door to the inn with his foot.

‘A bed for the lady,’ he demanded loudly.

The rotund innkeeper greeted them, wiping his hands nervously on a cloth which hung from his belt. ‘Beggin’ your pardon, sir, but we’re quite booked up. It’s hanging day today and …’

Jack sent him a furious look. ‘Are you blind? The lady is ill. She needs a physician, a bed, with fresh linen, hot water and towels. And I need someone to send word to Lord Lampton at Lampton Hall. And be quick about it, man!’

‘Yes, m’lord. Right away, m’lord.’ The innkeeper turned away and yelled for someone in the back room. ‘Lizzie! See to their needs! I’ll go fetch Mrs Garrett.’

‘A female physician?’ Jack raised his eyebrows, but then reconsidered; since he’d met Cora he’d started to realise that women could do anything a man could do.

The innkeeper shook his head. ‘We have no physician in the village. There’s the apothecary, but he’ll be at the hanging or in his cups, or both. Mrs Garrett has much experience of illness and will be of more use.’

‘That’ll have to do,’ Jack said and followed the innkeeper’s wife up to a small, airless room. Gently he lay Cora down on the bed, which looked clean, thankfully, and smoothed back her hair. Her face was deathly pale, and her chest rose and fell almost imperceptibly with short, erratic breaths. Jack’s insides clenched. What worried him most was that Cora had seemed fine before she suddenly lost consciousness. He only hoped that Mrs Garrett lived up to her reputation.

Cora still appeared to have difficulties breathing so he threw open the windows of the room and went to loosen her gown and stays.

Ridiculous garments,
he thought savagely. Why had he made her wear it? But he knew the answer to that: because he’d been trying to make her fit into his life, instead of accepting her as she was. He vowed that would change.

Cora moaned, but she seemed more comfortable now, and, holding her hand, Jack waited anxiously for the wise woman to arrive.

The innkeeper’s wife, a buxom woman with beefy arms, returned with water and towels. Jack thanked her, then dipped a corner of a towel in the hot water and began to bathe Cora’s wounds. As he’d suspected, they were only skin-deep, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

‘Oh, the poor lady,’ said the innkeeper’s wife. ‘Whatever caused her to be in such a state?’

‘She was attacked,’ Jack replied, ‘by three men, no less.’

‘Dear me, such times we live in. And did they … did they violate her?’

Jack caught her eye, and saw a barely suppressed excitement at the prospect of being in possession of some juicy gossip, but he saw sympathy too. ‘No, I arrived just in time,’ he said, ‘although I strongly suspect we haven’t heard the last of them. Is there a chance we could post a guard outside the room, please?’

‘Oh, don’t you fret, my lord. Between Will and myself and the taproom boy we’ll make sure no one comes up them stairs that ’aven’t booked for the night. Your lady friend will be quite safe here.’

‘I’ll be staying here myself,’ said Jack.

‘Right you are, my lord.’ If the innkeeper’s wife thought it unseemly that a gentleman chose to stay in a lady’s bedroom, she was too wise to comment. ‘Just give us a holler if you need anything, but I must warn you it’ll get mighty busy today.’

‘Thank you.’

The woman left the room, closing the door firmly behind her, and Jack returned to his vigil, watching Cora sleep.

His mind strayed to the two courtesans who had failed to impress him during his last visit to the gaming den – was it really only a few days ago? It felt like an age.

He was a different man now. Overcome by shame he remembered how unprincipled he had allowed himself to become in order to keep his spendthrift cousin in check. He had obviously failed at this task in spectacular fashion, to such an extent that he had thought nothing of entering into a wager for a woman’s life. Cora’s life. Rupert was no doubt still trying to track her down, and when he did, he would have no reason not to hand her over to the authorities. But this was no game for Cora; it was a matter of life and death, as the hanging had illustrated.

She belonged to the underbelly of society, to a world populated by the sort of men who had died on the scaffold today, and, like the courtesans in the gaming den, she was on the outside of respectability, with neither name nor money to protect herself and her loved ones.

Jack clenched her hand, receiving a twitch in response, and swore to himself for the umpteenth time that despite her obvious ability to take care of herself he would help her, if she would let him, and see her right somehow.

A knock on the door and a scuffling noise made him turn just as an old woman entered followed by the anxious innkeeper. The man was wringing his hands, no doubt worried what it would do to the reputation of his inn should a well-bred lady die while under his roof. In contrast the old woman was as calm as Jack’s own mother might have been in similar circumstances.

‘That’ll be the patient, then,’ she said matter-of-factly. ‘Let’s ’ave a look at you.’

There was something about her weather-beaten face, small bird-like eyes and long, tanned fingers which made Jack relax, and he moved aside to give the woman room to examine Cora. She lifted one of Cora’s eyelids and peered at the eye; then inspected the contusion and gently moved Cora’s head from side to side. Her efficient hands moved down the bodice of the gown prodding Cora’s ribs one by one; then squeezed her arms through the dress. Cora moaned faintly but didn’t wake.

Moving back, the woman said, ‘There’s certainly been some shaking of the brain, and a few cuts and bruises. This other injury seems a little older.’ She pushed down one of Cora’s sleeves to reveal a large, purple half-moon shaped bruise the length of a hand.

He remembered her fall in front of the stage coach. ‘I suppose it must be. Perhaps she was kicked by a horse.’

Mrs Garrett nodded. ‘Could well be. She’ll need complete bed rest for a week. Is there anywhere more suitable? Not that I doubt the efficiency of your establishment, Will,’ she said to the innkeeper, ‘but it ain’t suitable as a sick room.’

‘I’m sending for my carriage to have her brought to my father’s estate,’ said Jack.

‘Aye, that’s good, my lord, but you can’t move her today. You’ll need to wait to see how she is in the morning before travelling anywhere.’

‘I’m not sure she’s safe here.’

‘My lord,’ the old woman admonished him sternly, ‘commotions of the brain shouldn’t be taken lightly. Putting ’er in a carriage now will just shake the brain further and cause more damage. You must wait till the mornin’.’

‘Very well,’ said Jack, ‘but I’ll need a guard outside the door at all times.’

‘I’ll see to it, my lord,’ the innkeeper said. ‘The taproom boy is stationed outside the door, and there’s me brother-in-law down the smithy’s. He’ll help out too.’

‘Thank you, I appreciate it,’ said Jack. ‘You’ll be well paid for your trouble.’

The innkeeper bowed and left the room. Jack returned to Cora’s bedside, taking her cold hand in his and cradling it against his cheek. She looked so broken as she lay there, and he feared she might die.

Mrs Garrett put her hand on his shoulder. ‘She’s strong, this one, my lord. I reckon she’ll be fit as a fiddle soon enough.’

‘I hope so. She’s … I’m very, eh …’

‘Fond of her?’

‘Yes,’ Jack said simply. No point in denying it.

‘Then you must stop her gallivanting around gettin’ herself hurt.’

Meeting the old woman’s eyes, Jack grimaced. ‘Trust me, that’s easier said than done.’

‘I bet this one leads you a merry dance, m’lord,’ Mrs Garrett cackled. ‘I only hope it’s worth the kind of heartache which is store for you.’ She made as if to leave, and Jack paid her for her services. When her fingers had closed around the half crown, she said, ‘That’s most generous, sir. Good luck to you. Cos you’re going to need it.’

Chuckling to herself, she left the room, and Jack returned to Cora’s bedside, where he took off his jacket and loosened his neck cloth, settling down to a long vigil.

He was startled awake by Cora’s cries. The room was dark apart from a sliver of moonlight spilling in through the open window.

Disorientated, it took him a moment to realise where he was, and why. Had he really slept all this time? No, he had a vague recollection of eating a bowl of mutton stew and drinking a jug of ale.

Cora was sitting up in bed her eyes glistening with unshed tears. ‘He’s gone! He’s gone!’ she repeated as if she wasn’t fully awake.

Jack reached out and put a reassuring hand on her arm as more images from the evening before returned to him. The innkeeper’s wife had made Cora comfortable for the night, undressing her down to her shift, briskly and efficiently as if she undressed ladies on a daily basis, and Jack had found himself averting his eyes to preserve Cora’s dignity.

‘Who’s gone?’

Startled, she turned to face him, and then blinked as if she didn’t quite believe her eyes. ‘George. George is gone. What are you doing here? I need to go home!’

‘You can’t go home,’ he said. ‘Not yet anyway. You received a blow to the head and fainted from it. I took you to an inn to have you checked over. The wise woman said you need to rest before you can go anywhere. You don’t remember what happened?’

She was quiet for a moment. ‘Yes. I remember now. Those men … they were after George’s treasure.’

‘Treasure, eh?’ Jack smiled. ‘And why would they come after you? Do you know where this treasure is?’

‘No. I don’t think there is any. They were mistaken, but … Oh, Jack!’ Cora sent him a forlorn look. ‘His last thoughts were for me. He was about to die, and all he could think of was for me to stay safe. And then I get in trouble the minute he’s gone!’ Cora turned away to cover up her grief.

Moving to sit on the edge of the bed, Jack ran his hand up and down her naked shoulder. Her skin was warm and peachy-smooth, and his fingers tingled with the awareness. ‘Hey, hey, hey,’ he whispered, ‘it’s fine if you wish to cry.’

‘I’m not crying!’ she snapped.

Cora heaved a sigh, and although he couldn’t see her tears, Jack felt her shoulders shudder. He edged closer and put his arm around her until she stopped shaking. Brushing back a wayward curl from her face, he asked her the question that had been on his mind since he’d seen her kiss the condemned man. ‘Were you very close to this highwayman?’ He would not allow himself to be jealous if her answer was yes; he didn’t own her, and if she chose to tell him of her own accord, it meant she trusted him enough to do so. It would be enough.

Cora turned suddenly, bringing her beautiful face only inches from his. ‘Uncle George was a dear friend, an old friend. I’ve known him since I was a child. He gave me Samson.’ She smiled.

‘Samson?’

‘My horse.’

‘Ah. A magnificent beast.’

‘Great company too,’ said Cora. ‘Like George himself.’ She smiled as if recalling a fond memory and leaned her head against Jack’s chest. She ran her hand across to where his shirt was open, almost absently, and Jack shifted, hoping she wouldn’t notice the effect her caress had on him. This was hardly the time.

‘When my family returned from the northern counties,’ she said, ‘George took us under his wing, especially me. He was always giving me things. And Ned too. Once, after my mother died, and Ned was ill with grief, George brought us a pheasant and showed me how to prepare it.’

‘Poached from my father’s land, perhaps?’

Cora grinned. ‘Naturally. Us thieves don’t pay for anything if we can avoid it.’

‘Naturally.’

Her breath came hot against his chest, and Jack felt a beast stir in his belly. Gently he placed a finger under her chin, and she looked up, meeting his eyes and moistening her lips. Jack inched a little closer, until his lips almost touched hers.

But he pulled back. What was he thinking? Cora had been seriously hurt, and he was feeling amorous …? What sort of a gentleman was he?
Not a gentleman at all,
he thought, answering his own question.

Cora caressed his cheek with the back of her hand. ‘Jack?’

‘Yes?’ he replied, his voice thick with emotion.

‘I …’ Her fingers came to rest on his jaw bone, and she kept them there as if she was measuring his face. ‘You’ve come to mean a lot to me. You’re nothing like I thought you would be. How a person of the nobility would be. Perhaps you are … unique.’ She smiled softly, her grey-blue eyes warm and alluring.

‘Perhaps I am,’ he replied, and immediately thought how glib that sounded.

‘I thought I was going to die,’ she whispered, ‘and then you were there. You saved my life. It would make me very happy if—’

‘Cora, don’t …’

‘If you were to make love to me.’

Jack swallowed hard. ‘But your injuries … You’re not well.’

‘I’m well enough.’

‘We mustn’t,’ he insisted.

Something flashed in her eyes, disappointment mixed with anger, and something else, a longing matching his own. It took his breath away. ‘I thought you wanted me. Would it be so wrong of us to enjoy this moment? Neither of us know what the future will bring.’

‘Cora, I desire you more than anything in the world, but I will
not
dishonour you.’ Jack pulled back, but she gripped his arm firmly.

‘If you were to make love to me, it would be the greatest honour of all.’

‘You don’t mean that,’ he said. ‘Love-making out of wedlock is a sin.’

‘And I suppose Saint Jack has never sinned before?’ A mischievous smile tugged the corners of her mouth.

‘Well, maybe I have,’ he admitted.

He recalled his earlier vow that he’d commit himself to her if she’d have him, and was searching for words suitable for a proposal when Cora laughed, took his face between her hands and kissed him. Desire shot through him like an arrow. His ears thrummed as her scent and her warmth teased his senses, and her very nearness filled his mind till nothing else mattered.

Greedily possessing her mouth, he traced her collarbone with his fingertips, then down to her breast, undoing the fastenings of her shift and then lifting it over her head. Cora’s slender fingers did the same with his shirt. Her eyes locked with his, full of trust.

‘You make me feel alive,’ she whispered against his lips.

‘And you have my heart,’ he whispered back as he pushed the covers aside. ‘I want to see all of you.’

Pausing, he gave himself a moment to appreciate her beauty. In the light from the moon her skin shimmered with life, and her black hair spread across the pillow like a sable halo. As he caressed her with his eyes, he ran a finger down the length of her body, from the dip in her throat to her navel; then he cupped her breast and brought his tongue to the nipple. To his intense delight, Cora gasped from shock and pleasure. He knew then that he would be her first lover. The realisation hit him that she was giving him the greatest gift she had, herself, and he wanted to hug her close and thank her, but the words stayed unformed in his throat.

By God, he was such a dolt. He really didn’t deserve her.

‘You like that?’ he whispered against her hardened nipple.

‘Mm.’

‘You might like this even more.’

Slowly he moved his hand down her belly and found her silken black curls. Cora’s eyes widened, but she made no move to stop him, and gently he caressed her soft folds before sliding his finger inside her. Cora moaned with pleasure and spread her legs further, and he dipped his head to kiss her belly button, then traced a finger to the throbbing pulse in her neck. His erection pushed hard against her thigh, the pressure within him building to almost unbearable heights. It was too much.

‘Cora,’ he whispered against her mouth, ‘my beautiful Cora. You drive me insane.’

Sliding her arms around his neck, Cora pulled Jack on top of her. Raising himself up on his elbows, Jack sent her a questioning look, but Cora stopped his unvoiced doubts with a finger against his lips. She guided the tip of him inside her, but then her courage seemed to fail her and she placed her hands against his chest, eyeing him warily.

‘Will it hurt?’ she asked.

‘A little perhaps, but I’ll be as gentle as I can. Unless you want me to stop …?’

She shook her head. ‘I want you, Jack,’ she whispered. ‘All of you.’

Slowly he pushed further inside her, felt her tense and go tighter. Hating the thought of hurting her, he tried hard to hold back, but the sensation of filling her, of being encased by her warmth, and the way she moved around him, tipped him over the edge, and he let go of his control just as she arched up to meet him. Bringing her hands around his buttocks, she took him all the way inside her.

Eyes locked, they fell into a rhythm. Jack stroked her body, her hair, cheeks, and she met him thrust for thrust as the intensity built, responding to his every touch with a sigh, a kiss, a whisper. He gave himself to her with passion and love, and read in her eyes as their bodies came together that there could be no other for her, just as it was for him.

When she climaxed, he covered her mouth with his and lost himself in her.

When he woke she was gone.

Cursing softly, he remained in bed for a moment while he got his bearings. He had no recollection of when they had fallen asleep. After their first love-making, they had lain for a while caressing and whispering, and then made love again. Afterwards, cradling her head against his shoulder and basking in her trust of him, he’d revelled in her scent and the warmth of her body curled up to his. He had never known a sweeter moment.

The rest was a blur.

A quick search of the room proved that she had stolen his breeches and jacket and left him the torn yellow dress. Stomping around the room, he swore long and hard; then he sat down on the edge of the bed and laughed until tears were running down his cheeks.

Cora had given him the slip, again, but if she thought she’d seen the last of Jack Blythe, she could think again. He’d track her down even if it meant travelling to the ends of the earth.