The School for Brides (31 page)

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Authors: Cheryl Ann Smith

BOOK: The School for Brides
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Eva rushed to her and knelt at her feet. “Quiet, now. We will get you free.” She started to free one of Yvette’s feet while Noelle and Sophie worked on her hands. Pauline hugged Yvette’s neck gently for a second, then unwrapped the cloth around her mouth. In minutes she was free. She wobbled as Eva, Pauline, and Sophie eased her to her feet. They held her in a tight embrace while Noelle watched the happy reunion.
“We’re so happy to see you,” Eva whispered as tears ran down her face. She held Yvette by the arms when she swayed, and peered into her red eyes. “We were so worried.”
Sophie and Pauline pulled back to allow Yvette to breathe and give Eva a brief chance to check her over. There were no outward signs of injury, but some scars were impossible to see. There was no telling the level of mistreatment she’d been subjected to.
Traumatized, Yvette sobbed. “Thank you for coming for me, Miss Eva. All of you.”
Of all of Eva’s students, Yvette had been the most difficult to warm to. But over their weeks together, the hardened courtesan had broken down some of her protective walls and allowed Eva to see a hint of vulnerability. Just before her kidnapping she and Eva had built a tenuous companionship. She hoped it would continue.
Eva touched her face. “We had to come,” she said, then hugged Yvette again. They held each other tight.
Finally Noelle touched Eva on the shoulder. “We must leave this reunion for later. It’s best if we get out of the abbey quickly, before we are discovered.”
With Eva on her left and Sophie on her right, Yvette was helped out of the room and into the hallway.
“The tight bindings caused my feet to numb,” Yvette murmured. “I feel tingles now. Give me a moment and I should be able to stand unaided.”
Helped along, Yvette gradually stood more firmly on her feet. They had nearly reached the end of the hall when the light of a candle pierced the darkness behind them. The five women came to an abrupt stop and spun around as a man came around the corner.
The stranger holding the candle froze. “What is this?” His angry face glowed demonically in the flickering light. He seemed as outraged to see them huddled in the hallway as they were shocked to see him wearing nothing but a pair of breeches and boots below a stark white belly.
Yvette moaned. “ ’Tis His Lordship.”
Eva was the first to recover. “Run!” She and Sophie turned Yvette, and they hobble-carried her toward the staircase.
“Stop,” the earl roared. Booted footsteps pounded behind them at a full run. They heard a clatter and then his candle went out. Harsh swearing followed. Without a candle, he was momentarily blinded by the darkness.
Yvette hung heavy between them, but Eva barely felt her weight. Abject terror gripped her, and she could focus on nothing but the sound of His Lordship in pursuit and their group reaching freedom.
“Faster,” Eva cried, and Sophie grabbed for the rail as they tripped down the first few steps. Pauline tangled her fingers in the back of Eva’s shirt as Noelle grabbed Sophie’s waistband to keep them from falling. “Almost there!”
Pauline cried out as they took the bottom step and stumbled from the staircase into the great hall. The earl was steps behind, and closing in.
Eva spun to get her bearings, and gasped when she ran into something large.
Nicholas’s hard eyes stared down at her.
“Nicholas!”
No time for questions. He reached for Sophie, and pushed her and Yvette in the direction of the kitchen. Noelle and Pauline ran after them. He grabbed Eva by the hand and pulled her after the women as the earl took the last stair and stumbled to a halt.
The earl shouted a name, and a voice answered from somewhere within the immense hall. Eva sped beside His Grace. She caught sight of the women running through the open kitchen door and outside. Nicholas slowed as they rushed onto the lawn. They paused to look for the rest of the women, which gave the earl just enough time to catch them. Nicholas spun around to face their adversary, abruptly releasing Eva.
The earl squinted at Nicholas, his breath harsh and his rage clear. “I know you.” He took a step closer. “Stanfield?”
“Maddington.”
Though Nicholas was taller by a hand, the earl outweighed him by a good two stone, most of it around his midsection. The mad lord stood to his full height, closed his fists, and demanded, “Give me back Yvette, and we will forget you broke into my home.”
“She is now under my protection.” Nicholas reached out to block Eva when she jumped forward, sputtering in outrage. “And there she will stay.”
Eva went weak with relief. She wasn’t sure how Nicholas had come to be there or what his intentions toward her were, but clearly he had come for her and to save Yvette.
Thankfully, the earl had no power to take Yvette back. Lord Maddington was a mouse in comparison to the strength and power of her duke. Love welled in her heart for her gallant knight.
“You intend to pull rank, Your Grace?” the earl sneered. “I am well within my rights to have you shot. How was I to know the thief was a peer?” Maddington glanced at Eva. His tongue touched his bottom lip. “It will be my pleasure to teach the wench not to cross me.”
A low growl rumbled from inside Nicholas, and he launched himself at the earl. A
woof
was expelled from the earl’s lungs as His Grace caught him in his flabby stomach with his shoulder, and the two men fell to the ground.
Nicholas gained his feet first and punched Maddington in the chin as he rose. Maddington stumbled back, shook his head, and charged.
The fight was violent and brutal. Fists connected with alarming accuracy and speed. Eva was only partially aware of Noelle’s hand on her arm as she and Sophie ran out of the darkness to watch the fray. Nicholas took a blow to the face and returned a punch of his own to the earl’s stomach. The man doubled over, and staggered back.
Nicholas grabbed him by the arm and raised his fist. A shot rang out, and Nicholas lurched backward. He just managed to keep his footing, and jerked the earl upright as a second shot pierced the night. The earl gasped and went limp. Nicholas released him, and Maddington crumpled to the ground.
Eva looked toward movement beneath a tree and saw a footman staring wide-eyed at the bloodshed and the earl lying lifeless at Nicholas’s feet. He let out a low moan, dropped a pair of pistols, and ran.
“Nicholas!” Eva ran to him in time to keep him from falling. A dark stain spread beneath his coat. “Oh, Nicholas!”
Someone came running toward them.
“Get to the coach,” Harold commanded, and Noelle and Sophie rushed away. He went to Eva and gently pulled her aside as Nicolas’s eyes began to roll back. Grabbing Nicholas about the knees, he hoisted him up and settled him over his wide shoulder. He didn’t waver under Nicholas’s lifeless weight.
Eva ran her hand over her lover’s dark head, tears scorching her cheeks. She loved him, and now she might lose him.
“Please don’t let him die, Harold,” she begged.
Chapter Eighteen
 
 
H
arold carried His Grace to the waiting carriage. Eva and Noelle helped him get the injured duke inside, where the other women huddled together in the cramped quarters. All eyes were wide with fear over the terrifying way the rescue had ended. Yvette wept quietly in Sophie’s arms.
The mad earl was dead. He’d been killed, accidentally, by one of his own footmen who was attempting to murder Nicholas. Knowing Lord Maddington wasn’t alive to take revenge offered little comfort to Eva at the moment. She lifted Nicholas’s feet to put them on the seat, and felt his dead weight. His shallow breathing kept her from full despair. He was alive, but for how long?
She stifled tears. His face was so pale. If he died, it would be her fault. If only he’d stayed in London and left her to save Yvette alone.
When Nicholas was settled on the seat, Eva dropped to her knees and opened his coat for a better look at the wound. The moonlight clearly revealed that he was losing a great deal of blood.
“Oh, dear.” Abigail fanned her cheeks with her hands.
“If you faint, Abigail, I’ll shove you out of the carriage,” Noelle snapped. Abigail shot her a dark glare. “Eva and her duke need us to be strong.”
“Duke?” Abigail’s voice was a tight squeak. “We were rescued by a duke?” Muffled whispers followed. Eva paid them no heed. She’d pressed her hand over the wound, and blood was seeping through her fingers. Harold ripped open Nicholas’s shirt in order to examine the bullet hole more closely. The ragged edges of the wound brought gasps.
“He is bleeding to death,” Eva cried as Harold knelt beside her. “He needs a doctor.”
“Steady, Eva. Hysterics will not help your man.” Harold gently probed the area. “Take off his cravat,” he said as he pressed his hand to the wound. “We need to stop the blood loss. We’ll worry about the bullet later.”
Eva quickly removed the cravat and handed it to Harold. He folded the cloth tightly and pressed it against the wound. “Reach behind him and see if the bullet went through.” She slipped her hand under his body and felt around with her fingertips. There was no blood.
“I feel nothing.” Her voice caught. Nicholas was so strong and invincible. It terrified her to think she might lose him. “The bullet must still be inside.”
Harold silently packed the wound, tearing off parts of Nicholas’s shirt as he did so. The bandaging was crude but serviceable. They couldn’t go back inside the abbey for help. Not with the earl lying dead on the lawn.
A hand reached out to touch her head. It took Eva a moment to realize the hand belonged to His Grace. She lifted her eyes and scanned his face in the moonlight. Her heart leapt. His eyes were closed, but the corners of his mouth twitched. “I despise that wig.”
Eva laugh-cried and pulled it from her head. Her hair tumbled about her shoulders and over his hand in a tangled mass. Whispers rose again. The courtesans had never seen her without her disguise. “I will burn it tomorrow, I swear it.”
A sob broke from her throat as he wove his fingers through her hair and coughed. She cupped his free hand to her face and kissed his palm, wetting it with her tears.
“No time to crumble, love. I need my feisty spinster now.” Nicholas opened his lids slightly, and her chest tightened. The light in his intense eyes had dimmed. It was a very bad sign. “Where is Maddington?”
“Dead,” Harold said. A dog bayed in the distance, and Harold’s movements quickened. The entire household must have been roused by the shots. Confusion would give them a few precious minutes to make certain Nicholas was out of immediate danger.
Nicholas nodded. His hand slid from her hair. “If I survive this, I’ll thank the footman.”
Eva cupped his face. His skin felt cool to the touch. “You will survive. I’ll not have it otherwise.” She leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on his slightly parted lips. “My revenge for your insufferable behavior is not yet complete. I still have a list of tortures to heap upon your arrogant head.”
A slow smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. “Then I shall look forward to many years of suffering ahead, madam.”
He slumped back on the squabs and his eyes closed. Eva whimpered and reached to press her fingertips to his neck. Her body felt drained of blood until her fingers found his pulse.
“Keep the cravat tightly pressed to the wound,” Harold said, and stepped quickly out the door of the coach. “I need to get us safely away.”
A shout came from somewhere in the darkness. Searchers must be scrambling to look for the earl’s killer. The household would be in a panic. The coach rocked as Harold climbed into the driver’s seat and called to the horses. The coach jerked, sending Eva onto her rump as the women huddled tightly together on one seat. She quickly returned to her knees and positioned herself to put pressure on Nicholas’s wound.
“He is a strong man, Eva,” Noelle said, and reached out to put a comforting hand on her arm. “He will fight for himself and for you.”
Tears began anew. Eva felt warm rivulets trickle down her cheeks. “I cannot live without him, Noelle. I love him.”

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