by Shana Galen
"Obviously, you don't know the meaning of the word," Maddie shot back.
To her surprise, Blackthorne didn't grow angry at her impudence. Instead, he leaned forward, so close that she caught the scent of coffee and soap on his skin. His dark eyes bore into hers, their intensity making her insides heat. "Remember that, sweetheart," he said, voice dark and low.
Maddie didn't know why she was reacting to him. She couldn't stop her gaze from traveling to his mouth and wondering what it would be like if he whispered other, more scandalous words in her ear. She wondered what that blue-black hair would feel like under her fingertips. She wondered ... Jiminy, she wondered what he'd look like with his shirt off!
"Lord Blackthorne," Dover interjected. "I must ask you to refrain from taking a familiar attitude with either of these ladies. I will defend them."
Ashley laughed. "With what? Your pocket watch?"
"Ashley!" Maddie said reprovingly. Poor Mr. Dover. He was trying. Blackthorne would probably beat him senseless for it, but at least her fiance had honor.
But Blackthorne didn't beat Dover senseless. Instead, he nodded in agreement.
Maddie blinked in surprise. She knew a man like Blackthorne wasn't intimidated in the least by the likes of Mr. Dover, who though taller than Blackthorne, possessed nothing of Blackthorne's obvious strength or wiles.
But Blackthorne seemed to respect Dover. Either that or he couldn't be bothered by him. "I have no intention of becoming any more familiar with the lot of you," Blackthorne said. "Good-bye, and good riddance."
With that, he opened the carriage door and stepped into the ambush.
Chapter Four
Jack felt the cold metal of the pistol at his temple before he saw the man holding it.
"Who the hell are you? And what are you doing with my daughter?"
"I didn't touch her," Jack protested. It wasn't the first time he'd said it, but this time it was definitely true.
He had stepped out of the carriage and was facing a small shop with a slab of meat painted on the sign above. He didn't dare turn his head—no need to make his attacker nervous—so he continued to stare at the slab of meat.
It wasn't a comforting picture.
"I saw you step out of this carriage, and I saw my daughter get inside. If you put just one of your grubby fingers on her—"
"I didn't even look at her. I swear," Jack said. Well, now that wasn't exactly true, but at this point Jack wished he hadn't looked at Lady Madeleine.
Wished he'd never even heard of the chit.
He didn't have much hope that Lady Madeleine's father would believe him. Fathers of girl children were a notoriously bad sort. He had seen even the sanest, most reasonable men turn daft when it came to their daughters.
The best he could hope for was that Lord Castleigh would shoot him in the head. Then it would be over quickly.
All over.
Unless he could figure out a way to distract Castleigh ...
Where the devil was Nicholas? Probably halfway back home by now. That was gratitude for you.
"Sir," Jack said, trying to buy time, "it was an honest mistake. I stepped into the wrong carriage. I had no idea your daughter was inside or that she was eloping to Gretna Green."
"Gretna Green!" the man exploded.
Jack winced as the pistol slammed into his temple. Perhaps he shouldn't have mentioned Gretna?
"I'm not involved. That's why I'm getting out here. I don't want to marry your daughter."
"What's wrong with my daughter?"
Bloody hell, he couldn't say the right thing today. "Nothing. She's lovely."
The pistol dug deeper. If he survived this, he was going to kill Nicholas. Bloody coward bastard!
"She's lovely, but I don't want to marry her. Or any woman!"
"Yes, he does, Daddy!" a familiar voice called from the carriage. "That's my fiance, and if you shoot him, I will never forgive you."
"What?"
Pistol be damned, Jack couldn't stop himself from turning to look at the speaker.
The blonde smiled sweetly at him from the open window of the carriage.
Damn it all to hell! Was the woman mad? What the hell had she gotten him into now?
"Ashley Gweneira Brittany, get out of that carriage at once!" the man who'd been holding the pistol to Jack's head bellowed. Jack saw now that it was not Lord Castleigh at all but Sir Gareth, Ashley Brittany's father. "I forbid you to run off on your own and elope."
The blonde shook her head. "I'm not on my own, Daddy. Maddie's with me."
Lady Madeleine poked her head through the opposite window. "Good afternoon, Sir Gareth."
"Does your father know about this?" Sir Gareth wanted to know.
But Jack didn't hear her answer. Nicholas chose that second to emerge from his hiding place on top of the carriage.
Jack shook his head frantically. Trust Nicholas to pick the moment when they were finally getting things worked out.
But Nick either didn't see him or ignored him. With a whoop, his brother tackled Sir Gareth, flattening him.
Jack jumped out of the way just in time, watching as Sir Gareth's pistol skidded along the ground, stopping with a thunk against the wall of the butcher shop. But the loss of his weapon didn't deter Sir Gareth. He came up fighting. A hard left to Nick's jaw sent Jack's brother sprawling.
With Nicholas down momentarily, Gareth looked at Jack. "You think you can take me, boy?"
Jack tried to raise his arms in a gesture of peace—he had no intention of fighting an old man—but Sir Gareth charged, knocking him down and forcing him to defend himself.
Jack tried to be gentle, restraining the older man as much as possible. Sir Gareth fought hard and was soon out of breath. Jack released him and was stumbling to his feet when Ashley Brittany came flying across the road. "What did you do to my father? How could you hurt a helpless old man?"
Helpless? Jack lifted his aching shoulder, where the helpless old man had rammed him into the ground.
Ashley ran past him, and Jack reached out to catch her, but she evaded him, attacking Nick instead. "Don't you dare hurt my father. Don't make me repay that wrong, too!" she shrieked.
Jack took a step back. Repay?
There was obviously some unsettled business between his brother and Miss Brittany. Jack was prepared to let them reconcile it on their own. Nick had already caught the blonde's wrists and was trying to calm her when Jack noticed Sir Gareth beginning to rise.
Damn. "Nick! Watch out!" he called.
Nick turned to look at Sir Gareth, and the blonde kicked him. With a sigh, Jack interceded. He pried Ashley Brittany off his brother and propelled her back toward the carriage. "You wanted to go to Gretna Green?" he panted, still trying to catch his own breath. "We're going to Gretna Green."
Jack nodded to his brother, and Nick trotted up. His movements were a bit gingerly—when the Brittany family decided to do someone violence, it usually succeeded. But with one Brittany down and the other almost secure in the carriage, Jack figured his brother would survive another day.
Over Miss Brittany's curses—she was teaching him some rather inventive phrases—Jack called, "You don't have to come along. I can handle this."
Nick shook his head. "I'm coming. It's better if we aren't seen in London for a while."
"And it might be harder for Ble—" He glanced at Miss Brittany, who was listening now. "—for our friend, if we split up."
"What, and let you have all the fun?" Nick winked at the blonde, and she started cursing again.
A quick glance at Sir Gareth, and Jack knew they were out of time. The old man was shuffling toward his pistol.
"Fine, come along," he said, moving toward the carriage. Nick headed for the coachman's box. "But you know what this means?" He gestured at the irate Sir Gareth.
Nick grinned. "Better you than me, Blackthorne!"
Jack scowled. His brother said it so often, it was practically a motto.
Ashley Brittany yelled a last
insult at Nick's back, and Jack shoved his new fiancee inside. He climbed in after her just as Nick whipped the horses into motion.
The blonde flew across the coach to complain loudly to Lady Madeleine, and Jack looked behind them.
Sir Gareth was standing in the road, arm raised, face red, and curses ringing out after them.
Jack glanced at the two women across from him and knew exactly how Sir Gareth felt.
"Ashley, calm down. Everything will work out," Lady Madeleine said.
Jack snorted at her misplaced optimism. Nothing was going to work out. Not anymore. He was beyond help.
She ignored him and looked at Dover, now seated beside him. "Mr. Dover, I regret that this is not turning out as we had anticipated. If you have reconsidered and wish to call off our elopement, I will understand."
Jack looked at Mr. Dover, who sat with his pocket watch open on his lap. Some part of him wanted Dover to bail out. Even though he knew he would never have Lady Madeleine, he didn't want Dover to possess her either.
Dover looked up. "My lady, if you will still have me, I am most willing to undertake this journey. I gave my word, and I do not do so lightly."
Lady Madeleine nodded soberly, and Jack rolled his eyes. He felt miserable, and Dover's flowery speech wasn't helping.
"Ashley," Lady Madeleine said to her friend, "I don't know how your father found us, but it's not too late for you to go home."
"What, and let you have all the adventure?" the blonde said. Jack coughed. He was going to have to watch this one. She was the female equivalent of his brother.
"It's not an adventure," Lady Madeleine corrected. "It's practically a fiasco. You should go home now and—"
"She can't go home," Jack broke in, his misery doubling. "Not anymore."
Lady Madeleine turned her stunning blue eyes on him. "Why not?"
"Because I'm going to marry Miss Brittany in Gretna Green."
There was a chorus of dissent in the carriage, and Jack wished he could join it. More than anything, he wanted to get the hell out of the carriage and never see any of them again. Including his brother.
But they'd sped right past that fork in the road.
His course was set now, and, little as he liked it, he was stuck with it.
"I'm going to marry Miss Brittany in Gretna Green," Jack repeated over the noise. He was impressed how easily the words came out, especially when his stomach heaved at the very thought.
"No you're not!" Ashley shrieked.
Jack wanted to cover his ears. Dover, on the other hand, merely nodded. At least someone understood that this was the best and only way. Lady Madeleine obviously did not fall into that camp. She was gaping at him.
Damn, even that wide-eyed innocent look he hated on women was attractive on her.
"But—But why?" Lady Madeleine asked, her shock evident. "Before, you said—"
"That was before," Jack interrupted. "Before her father ambushed us and your friend there basically forced me into this elopement." He gestured to his fiancee—God, the very thought of having a fiancee made him want to empty the contents of his stomach—and she sat up indignantly.
"I did not force you to elope!"
"Then why the hell did you tell your father I was eloping with you? I might have convinced him I had nothing to do with this and gone on my way."
Ashley Brittany shook her head. "I was trying to help. I surmised that if he thought you were important to me, then he wouldn't hurt you. I don't want to marry you."
"Well, you're stuck with me now."
Lady Madeleine shushed her friend, cutting off Ashley's next remark. From the look on Ashley's face, that was probably for the best.
Lady Madeleine gave Jack a long look. "So you do have a sense of honor."
He laughed. "Honor be damned. I'm saving my own neck. Now that the chatterbox over there claimed me as her fiance, I've all but ruined her. If I go back to London and we're not married, her father will shoot me. Hell, any peer with an eligible daughter will shoot me. I'll be labeled a defiler of young girls."
Lady Madeleine actually looked sorry for him, which almost made Jack laugh. He hadn't thought he could be any more disreputable.
Of course, if the brunette knew what he really was, she wouldn't pity him. She'd say what everyone else would: that coward Blackthorne got what he deserved.
"Oh, don't pity him, Maddie," Miss Brittany told her friend. "If you read the papers more, you'd know he's a scoundrel, and so is his brother. The two Martingale brothers are known for drink and debauchery. Why, they've corrupted my brothers completely."
Jack laughed. "Your brothers need no corrupting from me, Miss Brittany. Like you, they find enough trouble on their own."
"How dare you—"
"This isn't helping," Lady Madeleine broke in. Her voice was still calm and soft, but it held authority. "What we have here is a misunderstanding. I'm sure if we went back and explained everything to Sir Gareth, you two would not have to marry."
"But—" Mr. Dover began.
"Shh!" Lady Madeleine said, and looked from her friend to Jack hopefully.
Jack shook his head. If only Sir Gareth was the sole reason he had to get out of London. But he wasn't about to worry her with mention of Nick's little altercation with Bleven. Even if Bleven weren't involved, only marriage to his daughter would stop Sir Gareth from shooting him on first sight.
"You're noble to ruin your own plans to help me, my lady," Jack told her, "but no one would listen at this point anyway. By now Sir Gareth's gone to fetch your father, and we probably have a bevy of footmen after us. The time for talking is done. I don't want to see anyone's father again until I'm someone's son-in-law."
"I have to agree with him, my lady," Dover said. "If we go back now, we're all doomed. Your reputations are ruined—"
"I don't care about my reputation!" Lady Madeleine argued.
"That makes two of us," Jack said. "But, as I said, I'm doing this to save my neck. You might not care about my neck, but you probably care about your fiance's. He'll fare no better than I if we go back now."
Jack watched as Lady Madeleine turned those big blue eyes on Dover, reassuring her fiance with a look that she would never allow him to face danger.
Jack felt like killing the professor. No one had ever given a damn whether he was endangered or not, especially not anyone like Lady Madeleine. He felt another stitch of jealousy knot in his heart and looked away.
Let the couple have their moment.
It was late afternoon by the time Jack looked back. He'd been watching the country roll by and assisting with the change of horses. They were making good time. He hoped to reach Stevenage before nightfall. The carriage had turned quiet, and as he surveyed his fellow travelers, he saw that all but Dover were sleeping.
Like him, the other man was peering out the window and occasionally checking his pocket watch. Each glance at the pocket watch was followed by a slight tsk.
Across from Jack, the two girls were slumped together. The brunette had her head on the blonde's shoulder. Lady Madeleine's eyes were closed and she breathed evenly.
Jack studied her, trying to remember if he'd ever seen her in Town. He didn't attend many of the ton's functions, so it was unlikely. Besides, he knew he would have remembered this exquisite creature. In fact, if they'd met under different circumstances, he might be the one sitting in Dover's place.
Dover. That required another glance at the man beside him. Jack could not figure what the polished beauty saw in the professor. He supposed the other man wasn't unattractive—not that he knew how to judge that in other men—and the other man definitely appeared intelligent. Even now he was polishing his spectacles and looking ponderous.
Lady Madeleine obviously preferred intelligence over passion. There couldn't be much passion between the professor and the earl's daughter. He couldn't begin to imagine the dull Mr. Dover kissing the luscious Lady Madeleine senseless.
Too bad, because that was so obviously what the little
brunette needed. He turned his gaze back to Lady Madeleine. She worried too much. Even in her sleep he could see that. There was a small crease between her two slender eyebrows that told him she was worrying.
Jack longed to reach across the carriage and smooth the line, to make it vanish forever. But he knew once he touched her, he wouldn't be able to stop. Sure, it would start with an innocent caressing away of that line, and next thing he'd place his palm on her smooth, creamy cheek.
He could imagine the silky feeling of her skin beneath his own flesh. She'd be warm and soft. So soft. He wouldn't be able to resist the temptation of trailing a finger or two to her lips.
Even now, in the dim carriage, he could see they were rosy and full and lush. Those were lips a man begged to kiss. Those were lips that promised so much more than they ever took. Jack imagined slipping his thumb inside that rosy mouth, and then had to shift and look away.
With a sigh, he went back to staring out the window. Riding across from Lady Madeleine all the way to Scotland was going to be miserable. He was half aroused just thinking of touching her face. He hadn't even begun to imagine exploring below her neck.
His eyes darted to the bodice of her pretty dress. The gown was purplish and white with small bows along the hem. The bodice was unadorned. No dainty bows for him to push askew there. If he just slipped one finger inside and touched—
"Sir?"
Dover spoke, and Jack pulled his eyes away from Lady Madeleine with a jerk of his head.
"What?" he barked far too sharply. Lady Madeleine moved and stretched, and Jack had to look away or embarrass himself.
"I was going to say," Dover continued, "that by my calculations, there should be a village up ahead. This would be an excellent opportunity to stop and change horses."
"Oh, good, we're stopping," Ashley Brittany said sleepily to Lady Madeleine. "My—er, legs are so sore."
"There's no time for that," Jack said shortly, rapping on the carriage's roof to alert his brother. "Your pistol-waving father is on our heels, and we have a long way to go to Gretna Green."
The hatch opened and Nick, looking wind-whipped but relaxed and happy, peered down. "I'm going to stop and change horses again up ahead," he said.
