Instead, it rained harder.
Thick raindrops slapped the carriage until they could barely hear above the din. Caroline wondered if they should stop and let the footmen sit out the rain inside the carriage, although there wasn’t enough room. Then thunder cracked, and the raindrops came harder and louder.
“Hail,” Mrs. Ruffalo said knowingly, pulling Mr. Charles closer.
Each drop made a thud that reverberated inside the coach. It felt like they were being pelted with lawn balls. A thumb-sized dirty ice ball broke past the curtains and landed on the seat next to her, causing Mr. Charles to whine.
Then the carriage bumped over something heavy and stopped at a distinct slant. Her nerves tensed more.
Now, what could it be?
The footman appeared again at the window, holding his collar up to shield himself from the hail now pelting him.
“The wheel’s dropped an axle,” he yelled over the hail. “It may be several moments. Are you ladies comfortable? ”
Mrs. Ruffalo and Caroline nodded, exchanging looks. She guessed the older woman was seriously regretting ever making her acquaintance and she was ashamed to meet her eyes. But the old woman laughed cheerfully and resettled Mr. Charles. Caroline wondered for a moment if she all right.
“The adventures of traveling!” Mrs. Ruffalo smiled again, looking out the window.
Caroline swallowed gratefully and felt chastened. This lovely old woman was enjoying their miserable trip with a broken carriage in a storm. She wasn’t inconvenienced or angry. She was pleased.
If she could handle this, I certainly can.
Caroline sat back against her coach seat, straightening her spine.
“Don’t worry, dear. We’ll find your girl,” she patted Caroline’s hand with her liver-spotted one and chuckled to her pug.
A tumble of thoughts assailed Caroline. For a moment, she wasn’t sure if she should laugh or cry.
For several frightening minutes, Caroline felt as though she and Mrs. Ruffalo were stuck inside a cave under a waterfall. They could hear nothing but hail pelting the carriage and the occasional rumble of thunder. Finally, after what felt longer than a quarter of an hour, the hail changed back into rain. Caroline lifted the curtain to view the carnage outside and saw the landscape was flooded. Puddles formed in the road. It was still raining, and she couldn’t see either footman.
Perhaps they sought shelter under a tree. She hoped they had. Caroline, still feeling bad about the turn the trip took, smiled politely at Mrs. Ruffalo as though this were the most normal thing in the world and explained she would see how the footmen were getting on.
Outside the sky was gray with storm clouds. She stepped out on the damp road in her boots and silently cursed her quickly stained hem. No sign of the footmen, so she passed to the other side of the horses and stopped dead in her tracks.
Ahead under a tree, about thirty feet away were three ragged men and her two footmen. The larger footman was lying on the ground, unconscious. Her heart raced. The smaller footman was on his knees with his hands behind his back. It appeared they were being robbed.
Caroline wanted to slink back, but the men turned toward her.
“Hello, my lady, refreshing summer shower we’re having, no?” A man with a goatee said to her, laughing. They wore a ragtag collection of once nice coats that likely belonged to other gentlemen.
Caroline thought of Mrs. Ruffalo inside the coach and froze.
When she said nothing, he stepped toward her, his face a mocking jeer.
“‘Tis a very nice coach you’re traveling in. I’m going to have to ask you to hand over your jewelry and any valuables you have. Your footman did not want to cooperate, so we’ve had to help him rest.” He gestured to the man on the ground. “I assume you do not want to follow his lead.” He smiled broadly as though he were discussing a transaction in a marketplace.
Caroline looked at the man on the ground and shivered. Please, do not let him be dead. In a flash, she remembered Alexander’s words about them being killed by highwaymen. She would think of him at this moment. She regretted that one of her last thoughts in life would be wasted on him.
If nothing else, perhaps they would think she was the carriage’s only occupant and not notice Mrs. Ruffalo.
She nodded calmly to the man despite her beating heart. Maybe if she gave them what little money she had, they’d go away.
“Allow me to grab my coin purse from the coach.” She wanted a chance to signal to Mrs. Ruffalo to keep quiet.
But another of the men walked toward her.
“Ain’t dressed so fancy for this kind of coach,” he said and frowned.
“I am a guest of the coach’s owner, and I ride at his leisure.”
The closer man’s brows drew together.
“At his leisure, eh? Yes, please grab your coin purse if it’s not too much trouble, my lady.”
The other men laughed as he mimicked a fancy accent.
She knew that her clothes gave away that she was not a fine lady. But maybe they would not bother her because of the coach’s crest.
She lowered her eyes and hoped if she stayed calm, they would leave her alone and move on quickly.
She opened the coach door and locked eyes with Mrs. Ruffalo, who still held Mr. Charles. Caroline shook her head in a way she hoped the woman would understand.
Do not make a sound. Do not move.
Caroline grabbed her reticle from the plush seat.
“Here,” she called back to the highwaymen, “is my reticule.” She tossed it to the thief closest to her, who pulled it open and counted it.
“Ain’t you got any jewelry?” the other man said to her. “Ear bobs, nothin’?”
She shook her head but stood her ground. She could see the other thief held a short knife to the footman to hold him in place, but, thank God, he didn’t look injured.
In the distance, Alexander heard male voices, yelling.
He stopped his horse in the woods, inhaled in the damp air, and stood, listening.
He wheeled toward the sound and set off in that direction. They raced through the mist gathering on the ground.
It couldn’t be Caroline’s coach, could it?
Alexander swallowed and rode on. He tried not to imagine why men might be yelling. Finally, from the woods, he saw a small clearing where a glossy black coach stopped on the road.
It was Mrs. Ruffalo’s.
His heart thudded in his throat.
He recognized Ruffalo’s crest, the three feathers, painted on the side.
Damnation. If anything happened to them, he’d never forgive himself. Despite what she’d said.
He saw Caroline first. Her dress clung heavily to her slim body, and her hair seemed pasted to her head. She was soaking wet but alive.
Tension he didn’t know he’d carried slipped from his neck and shoulders.
He held back his horse as it stamped the dirt ground, eager to join the others.
Something thrilling stirred in him as he watched her. She was the same woman, in the same dingy gray dress. But she looked entirely new.
His heart thudded in his ears.
Hope rose in him as he urged his horse to the coach.
“Miss Holland,” he called.
Only then did he notice other men in the distance. A footman lay on the ground.
For a moment, everything slowed. Alexander could see Caroline’s confused eyes on him. In an instant, he saw the men take him in. He saw a man holding a knife to a footman.
They were being robbed by highway, and he had ridden right into it. Blast, he should have waited and caught them by surprise.
Caroline slowly stood up, still staring at him.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
Caroline’s eyes burned into his. She was angry.
“I’m saving you.”
Just then the man who held a knife to the footman surged forward, pushing the footman away and grabbing Caroline to him. She screamed in surprise
, the knife now pointed at her slender neck.
“Stop yourself right there, my lord,” the man with the knife said and pulled Caroline to him more tightly.
Alexander halted his horse.
“Let go of her,” he said calmly, as though he were addressing an audience from a stage.
Greed glinted in the man’s eyes.
“Why don’t you give us your valuables for the girl?” he called, still smiling.
His sneer bit into Alexander and made him want to wring his neck.
“Gentlemen, I can assure you this is not the way to riches. Unhand her, and I’ll let you go about your way.”
Another of the men laughed and called, “Unhand her, good sir!”
Alex’s eyes flickered to each of the men. He wondered whose neck he could reach first.
“Check the coach,” one thief told the other.
The thief took three steps to the carriage when a loud crack splattered the puddle in front of him.
Caroline and the thieves looked around in confusion.
Then Alexander saw a small silver pistol poking out the curtains of the carriage.
“Take another step and you’ll lose your foot,” Mrs. Ruffalo’s voice called from the coach. They could hear her, but not see her.
The thief froze when he saw the gun’s barrel.
Mrs. Ruffalo had a pistol!
A second shot pinged the ground near the first highwayman. Apparently, she was a good shot too.
“Let go of the Duke of Stanwyck’s servants and be on your way or this man will be killed here on the road.” She spoke in a low, rasping voice, which made it difficult to discern the age or even the gender of the shooter.
Everyone stood frozen for a moment.
Another shot rang out.
The highwayman holding Caroline’s purse jerked back, dropping her coins.
“Owww!”
He grabbed his shoulder and buckled over.
“I’ve been shot!” he said through gritted teeth. “Bloody hell!”
Mrs. Ruffalo shot him. It was a crack shot too.
Dark blood seeped through his shirt sleeve, but Alexander could tell it was not a serious injury. Unfortunately, he likely would live.
“Stop shooting! Here’s your ‘lady,’” the other thief yelled, propelling Caroline towards the footman as the man with the gunshot wound backed away and disappeared into the woods.
Caroline grasped the frightened footman when he came close enough to her. Thankfully, he looked unharmed.
“Miss, are you all right?”
“I am well,” she said. “Are you?”
He nodded and went to rouse the larger footman.
The other thief faded into the trees as well.
The coach door swung open, and Mrs. Ruffalo calmly stepped out.
“You shot a man,” Caroline said as if the older woman didn’t know.
Mrs. Ruffalo smiled and let Mr. Charles safely down the coach steps.
“You shot a man!” she said again and laughed at the incredibility of everything that happened so far today.
“I learned a long time ago. Pistols best knives.”
12
Caroline’s hand was clamped over her mouth. She wanted to ask why Mrs. Ruffalo had a pistol, but that seemed foolish. Nervous energy built up in her chest and she laughed out loud. The old woman had saved them. Caroline stood on the damp road with water seeping in her boots, giggling. After a moment, her laughter changed to nervous hiccups.
Then she remembered herself and walked to where the larger footman lay on the ground. Thankfully, he was coming around.
“Are you all right?”
He nodded and pressed a large hand to his forehead.
“He gave me a good knock on the head, but I’ll be right again.”
Caroline helped the man stand and looked around. Two footmen down, and their party saved by a sharp-shooting old woman.
And one busybody earl.
It was better than being robbed, and lord knows what else the men could have done to them. At least the rain was beginning to let up.
Finally, she turned to Alexander.
“So you’ve come to save us?” she asked, feigning innocence.
He opened his mouth to answer but said nothing. His leather boots squeaked as he dismounted his horse. He stepped exasperatedly close to her and grabbed her by the shoulders.
“Have you been hurt?”
His hands on her shoulders were warm through her wet dress. She shook her head, suddenly exhausted.
His face still wore a sullen, worried expression, but his dark eyes searched hers gently.
For the first time, she wondered if he came for her.
But that was not possible.
“A bit late,” Mrs. Ruffalo sniffed, picking up Mrs. Charles so he wouldn’t step in a puddle.
Alexander released Caroline’s shoulders, and she nearly slumped against him for a moment before straightening up.
“So I see,” Alexander said.
Suddenly every single part of Caroline’s body ached.
Her legs hurt. Her shoulders pinched as though she had been carrying a heavy rock. Even her feet stung inside her half boots, and really, she barely walked today. Yet she was utterly exhausted.
As she stepped, she adjusted herself so that Alexander wouldn’t notice her limp. The last thing she needed was to give him more ammunition to stop the trip.
If this was how she felt after this morning, she wondered about poor Mrs. Ruffalo. But the woman seemed to be moving well enough as she carried Mr. Charles away from a puddle to a patch of grass and allowed him to finish his business.
Alexander strode to Mrs. Ruffalo’s side and offered to take Mr. Charles from her arms, but stepped back when the dog growled at him.
“Careful, he doesn’t like strangers,” Caroline said and swallowed her smile as he stepped away from the dog and went back to retrieve his horse.
“I daresay we’ve been doing quite well on our own.” Caroline wasn’t sure if he heard her as he gathered up the reins and tied his horse to a nearby tree.
Finally, he turned to look at her. His eyes blazed.
“Oh, really? Did I imagine dangerous highwaymen here robbing you by knifepoint a few moments ago?” His voice raised louder. “Because that does not constitute what I would consider doing well.”
Caroline glanced over to Mrs. Ruffalo, who was carrying the dog back to the carriage and seemed not to hear him.
“Well, you don’t have to take that tone of voice. It’s not as though you saved us.”
He stepped in front of her and stood tantalizingly close to her. So close, she could smell his warm scent. But his eyes burned with anger. She was half-surprised his gaze didn’t ignite the ground around them.
“What tone of voice do I need to take so that you realize how daft your journey is and the danger you’re putting all of us in?”
She jerked back from his vicious expression.
He was impossible and she’d enough of men telling her what to do.
“If you’ve just come here to yell at me, you may as well turn around now.”
“I wish I could,” he said.
Alexander walked his horse slowly behind the carriage for the sodden two remaining miles to the village of Avondale. Aside from it being the gentlemanly thing to do, why the hell had he come? He still wasn’t sure. It was obvious she didn’t want him around, and, to add insult to injury, she didn’t seem to need him at all. Even he had to admit, Mrs. Ruffalo was a crack shot.
He watched the carriage as it rolled ahead of him and occasionally caught glimpses of the back of Caroline’s head through the sliver of window.
Christ, she was lovelier than he remembered. She removed her wet bonnet and tendrils of wavy hair came loose and curled daintily around her face and neck. He knew it was not proper for a woman of her station to be hatless, but it gave her a ruffled, sensual look. Somehow, it suited her.
Although it was still wet, the sun came ou
t and shone down on the countryside as they passed through it. The warmth and the easy rhythm of his horse relaxed his muscles and dried his damp clothes.
He should have been annoyed, but the pretty woods, now peaceful and filled with birdsong energized him in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time. Caroline said they didn’t need him, but obviously, she didn’t know when she was over her head.
What would have happened if he hadn’t come along?
For the first time in a long time, he felt needed and useful.
But he would never allow Miss Holland to know that.
Caroline, for her part, sat restlessly in the carriage.
She was secretly pleased that Wolfolk was accompanying them to the village. She told herself her nerves were shaken after the robbery attempt, and so his presence soothed them, nothing more. But she knew that was not entirely the truth.
She had been so relieved to see him when he swept up on his horse, the only thing she could think to do was not to allow her expression to betray her. But Wolfolk’s face, pale and handsome, was the happiest thing she laid eyes on in some time. She felt as though she had been sinking underwater, and seeing him was oxygen she needed to reach the surface.
But she would never tell him that.
Not if her life depended upon it.
Mrs. Ruffalo was apparently also fatigued by the thwarted highway robbery attempt because she dozed off, her head tilted back against her headrest and her mouth open a bit. Caroline marveled at her stamina. Really, Wolfolk should propose to her. She truly was the strongest, most capable person Caroline had ever encountered and she would suggest her for sovereign if it weren’t treason.
As they came upon the small village, Mrs. Ruffalo woke up midway through a snore and smacked her lips.
“There already?” she said as though she had never closed her eyes.
Caroline smiled to herself before glancing back to Wolfolk. He was still there, plodding on, looking severe and still watching.
The Avondale Arms inn was small, but neat and built with cheerful honey-colored brick. In Mrs. Ruffalo’s and her room, Caroline was relieved to take a bath and change into a fresh dress. She touched her three remaining dresses, looking for a suitable one to wear for dinner. Each one seemed drabber than the first. One was gray, another faded yellow, and the last, muddy brown. Then she saw a flash of periwinkle at the bottom of her trunk.
Lord to Love Again: A Sweet and Clean Regency Romance Page 11
