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Authors: Beverly Adam

Tags: #Romance, #Historical, #Scottish, #Regency, #Historical Romance

The Widow and the Rogue (18 page)

BOOK: The Widow and the Rogue
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“Kill them!” the bleeding man ordered. “Kill them!”

“No, Ian,” said Mrs. O’ Grady firmly, putting out a restraining arm to stop them from shooting. “It has to look like an accident. It must appear as if they drowned. If they’re shot and killed, the authorities will be onto us. We could lose everything if we’re discovered.”

Beau reloaded the firing pistol, aimed once more, and fired. This time it grazed a tree, an inch to the right of the other pirate’s head, sending splinters of bark flying everywhere. The villains ducked, hiding in the shelter of the thicket as they fired off a round of avenging shots. Kathleen could see in the near distance the lake spreading out before them. They had only a few more yards to go before reaching it.

“Don’t worry, lad. We’ll make it,” she said to Tim reassuringly.

His large brown eyes looked trustingly up at her. She had forced him to lie down, fearing he might be hit by one of the stray bullets.

The pirates also realized their prize was about to escape. They ran along the edge of the riverbank in a futile effort to stop them. But it was too late. Beau urged the boat onward using his punting pole, giving it added momentum. Soon they were in the middle of the lake. The deep water was dark and the weather above matched its color, pitch black with heavy rain clouds.

Worried, she searched the shore for their pursuers. She knew they would not be far behind. Those greedy cutthroats were not going to let them escape.

“We’ll head for the hall. I’ll fire off a couple of rounds, alerting those ashore that we’re in distress. That ought to bring a rescue boat to us and give added protection. They wouldn’t dare kill us in front of witnesses.”

As Beau spoke, Kathleen noticed a small craft entering from the mouth of the subsidiary river they had just left. Three people were on board.

“It’s them,” she said with a tiny quiver of fear. The black poker bonnet Mrs. O’Grady habitually wore was noticeable from a distance.

“Aye, they’re in hot pursuit. They probably think they can capture us before we reach the other side. We’ll have to try and outrun them,” Beau said.

He took an oar and handed it to her. They began to row in unison, trying to outdistance their pursuers. Tim started barking upon sighting the villains closing in on them. Fortunately, they were already several yards ahead. The shots fired in their direction sank uselessly into the lake.

When they neared Dovehill Hall’s shore, Beau raised his pistols and fired off two shots. A young lad herding a flock nearby sighted them. Kathleen waved a white handkerchief in the air to show they were in distress.

With a cry of alarm, the lad turned and ran off in search of help.

“That should get things started,” Beau muttered with satisfaction.

The pirates started firing indiscriminately, letting their baser instincts reign, fearing their valuable prize was about to slip away. The lake was too deep to attempt any type of salvaging, but the villains were desperate. The loss of the treasure was unacceptable.

Servants came running from the hall. They shouted out to them, waving aprons. Several of the men hurriedly untied a nearby fishing boat and began to row out to them.

Kathleen recognized Beau’s manservant, Humphrey, among them. She felt like cheering. They were going to be rescued.

“Over here!” she shouted, waving her hands in the air.

The boat bobbed roughly up and down. She felt the pit of her stomach fall as the water turned choppy. The boat lurched dangerously to one side.

“Careful, or we’ll tip,” warned Beau.

Realizing he was right, she stilled her movements.
The villains must stand down,
she told herself reassuringly, holding onto the sides.
They cannot continue this mad pursuit and risk being caught or killed.

The grim faces of the pirates were plainly visible, their anger and frustration etched on their scowling faces. Murderous intent shone in their eyes as they fired off their weapons for the last time.

Several of the shots hit the boat. A trickle of water began to enter. A return volley was heard from their rescuers. A loud cry was heard from the pirates. One of Humphrey’s shots hit the man closest to the stern, squarely in the chest, the same one who’d been wounded earlier in the thigh. The villain fell forward, blood seeping through his shirt. Kathleen could see Humphrey and the others hurriedly reloading.

“Well done, Humphrey,” said Beau approvingly.

The pirates, realizing they were about to be outnumbered, made a hasty retreat back towards the river inlet. Sooner than you can say,
Jack your brother
, their rescuers’ boat pulled up alongside their leaking skiff.

Beau reached out enthusiastically, shaking their rescuers’ hands, smiling broadly at Humphrey and the others.

“Demme . . . if I’m not happy to see you, gentlemen,” he said. “I thought there for a moment those sharks would soon be discovering a different sort of fish to sharpen their fangs upon.”

“They never stood a chance,” Kathleen put in, remembering the pirate he wounded. “They were too terrified of being torn in two by you. And when Humphrey shot one of them, they turned tail. Aye, they dared not stay any longer when you brave gentlemen came swiftly to our rescue.”

“Please, say no more of this, Lady Langtry. You will be shaming us for not reaching you and Master Powers sooner,” said Humphrey in a gruff manner. Although she could tell he was nonetheless pleased by her heartfelt compliments.

“Have the militia been sent for?” Beau asked.

“Aye, we sent Tommy to fetch them and the village constable as soon as we saw the trouble you were in,” his manservant replied. “We want to make certain those pirates reach hell safely. . . And to think that damnable Mrs. O’Grady turned out to be one of them. It quite makes one’s blood boil.”

“Aye, that it does,” said Beau in agreement, thoughtfully looking at Kathleen.

She could tell he was silently wondering how she felt about the matter. How did this revelation of close betrayal affect her?

She’d been forced to endure the housekeeper’s dominating interference many times over the past two years. The black-hearted villainess had used Dovehill Hall to hide her illegal activities as a smuggler. It might have continued unchecked if Lord Langtry hadn’t suddenly died and left the entire estate to Kathleen.

“Mrs. O’Grady will undoubtedly be justly rewarded one day by the devil himself for her wrong doings,” she said out loud, answering the unasked question. “If the authorities catch her and those wicked men, they will face the full penalty of the law. That will satisfy any revenge I could possibly wish upon them.”

“For certain, that it will. May justice rule,” agreed the handsome magistrate.

Although she noted he lightly fingered the weapon in his hand, he was undoubtedly thinking of the justice he would like to have personally enacted upon the pirates who had dared to try and harm them.

*    *    *

They returned peacefully to Dovehill Hall. Their boat was tethered to their rescuers’ as it was feared it might sink. Upon reaching shore, they were greeted by servants and village locals. A few of them had taken the precaution of carrying weapons in case the pirates dared to return.

“Tim, heel.” she urged the dog that, from the moment his paws touched ground, wanted to chase after the scoundrels.

His dark whiskered snout in the air, the black Lab motionlessly pointed. One leg was elegantly lifted, as the hall’s huntsmen had trained him to do. He was prepared to sniff the villains out for them.

“What a good little fellow you have there, Lady Langtry,” said the village constable, approvingly.

The constable, or g
uarda,
as he was known, noticed the dog’s reaction. A thoughtful look passed between him and the local militia’s captain.

“Might we use him to ferret out these dangerous miscreants, ma’am?”

She hesitated. On one hand, she wanted the villains to be caught, but on the other, she did not want to risk Tim being hurt again.

“I will go with them,” said Beau wisely, sensing her uncertainty. “In this manner, we may be rest assured no harm will come to him. That would be agreeable with you, wouldn’t it, Constable?”

“Aye, sir, it would no doubt be better for the lad to have his master accompany us on the hunt,” the guarda readily agreed. “For sure, he’ll be more manageable that way.”

She nodded and said, “Then it’s agreed, but I am coming along, as well.”

“But Kathleen—” Beau protested. They had nearly lost their lives.

“Tim is my dog,” she cut in. “I know I am being stubborn. But I would never be able to forgive myself if anything happened to him.”

Frustrated, Beau swore under his breath. But when he looked at her, the determination in her wide eyes and the firm set of her jaw told him she would not back down.

“Very well,” he relented. “But you are to remain in the rear with the militia. Understood?”

“But I—”

“Agree, Kathleen, or back to the hall you go.”

She could tell by the look in his eyes and the stern determination in his voice he meant his words. She had a feeling he would physically take her back if she didn’t agree. Silently, she nodded.

They searched along the lake’s shore. Beau held Tim’s leash at the head of the line as the militia spread out, searching the overgrowth for the pirates. Kathleen kept up as best she could. Her walking clothes were not made for dealing with brambles and sharp thorns. Impatiently, she had to stop several times and unhook her long skirts from catching vines.

With his large paws, Tim ran easily through the thicket in his eagerness to chase after the pirates. She could see Beau valiantly hanging onto the end of the leash as he tried to keep up with the young dog. They finally reached the river’s inlet shore. Tim gave a sharp bark and pointed.

“Good boy! Well done,” praised Beau, patting Tim’s head.

Kathleen walked up the militia line and stood beside them. She was curious to see what he had found. Dark patches of blood lay splattered around on the ground.

“Do you know how many of them were wounded?” asked the constable.

“One was, quite badly,” she supplied, recalling their earlier encounter. “He was shot in the thigh and the chest.”

“Aye, then they can’t be too far off.” He nodded. “We should be able to catch up with them quickly.”

“Come on, boy,” murmured Beau encouragingly to the Lab, easing the leash he held.

Tim, as if understanding, gave a short bark and set off. His long plumed tail wagged like a flag to follow.

A bit farther, almost completely submerged, they came upon the boat the pirates and Mrs. O’Grady were last seen in. It had sunk. The hull now lay in the river.

“Don’t get too near the edge,” advised Beau. “The current, as you can see, is quite dangerous here. It may be they all drowned.”

“Aye, that is so,” agreed the constable, speaking to the head officer in charge of the militia. “Captain, I’d pass word on to your men to be careful.”

The captain gave a silent salute and went after his soldiers to warn them of the possible danger. Tim, not the least bit distracted by the submerged vessel, sniffed around nearby. His body tensed and he gave a few sharp barks, lifting his paw, pointing.

“What have you found, boy?” Beau asked softly.

Quietly, he walked up to the side of the animal. He pulled back the low branch that dangled over the edge of the river. Lying on the ground partially in the water was the pirate Humphrey had shot.

The pirate wasn’t moving. A horrible stench emitted from him as midges swarmed around his body. He was dead—his life had bled out of him.

Chapter 11

The search for the remaining pirates ceased at sunset. The darkness made it impossible to continue. A few of the militia camped near Dovehill Hall. The soldiers were posted on watch as a precaution against the pirates returning.

Kathleen could see the campfires along the shore of the lake from a window in the dining room. It was a reassuring sight. She was still recovering from the horrible discovery of the dead pirate’s body.

She shuddered at the memory. The smell of the decaying body had been stomach clenching. The sight of him lying there under the brush, his sightless, glassy eyes staring up at them, was unforgettable. He served as a reminder of how close she had come to death.

Someone gently knocked on the door.

The newly appointed housekeeper, a young, competent woman in her early thirties, entered. She smiled and curtsied.

“Are you ready for dinner to be served, your ladyship?” she asked.

Kathleen nodded. “You may proceed, Mrs. Cameron. It would appear there will be just the two of us tonight.”

She had invited the captain and the constable to dine with them but both had politely declined. They cited their more urgent need to meet with the local priest to make burial arrangements for the dead pirate and to discuss what tactics to take in finding his accomplices.

“Those two scoundrels are still out there,” said the guarda
,
his voice sharp with his desire for action. “And I for one will not rest easy until they are caught and punished for their terrible crimes.”

“Aye, that they will be.” The captain of the local guard nodded in agreement, one of the rare times he was in complete accord with his Irish counterpart. “We must remain vigilant until these villains are apprehended. Who knows what desperate act they might perpetrate next?”

Those dire warnings ran through her thoughts as she and Beau sat at the candlelit walnut table. She looked over at her dinner companion seated beside her.

If it were not for the brace of arms he kept by his side, Beau appeared to have calmly put the harrowing incidents of the day completely out of his thoughts. They exchanged pleasant conversation, discussing their plans for Dovehill Hall and the final changes to her will.

If for some unforeseen reason she should die, the estate would now pass into the hands of various charities and be run by a designated trusteeship. None of her late husband’s relations would be able to make any legal claims. Beau had made certain of that.

They had for the past week been living alone at Dovehill Hall. Lady Fitzpatrick had returned to her own home to take up residence. Kathleen thought fondly of the tiny Irish woman who had served for several weeks as her devoted companion. She had become as dear a friend as Beau had become.

BOOK: The Widow and the Rogue
12.97Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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