Lightning Strikes Twice (The Heart of a Hero Book 4)

by Jillian Chantal

“I’m sorry. I know I’m being ridiculous. All I can say in my defense is I’m distraught about my father.”

  “It’s understandable.” Laurence bowed. “I really need to be on my way if I hope to make any progress before dawn.”

  “Would you do one thing for me before you go?”

  “If it is within my power and won’t delay me.”

  “My mother has packed a hamper of things for my father with a note. She would like you to take it along. In case you find him. He’d have a loving greeting from his wife.”

  “I will take it, even though I cannot be sure I’ll find him.” Laurence glanced around the room. “Where is it?”

  “I’ll run to the kitchen and fetch it for you. Wait right here, please.”

  “Make haste.”

  “I shall.” She almost ran out of the room.

  He paced the parlor as he waited. Thinking about what she’d said about her willingness to sacrifice her reputation to get out of a marriage with Hammond, Laurence was struck by the irony of the situation. Little did she know her potential betrothed was doing his own work on losing his reputation and place in society. He was doing so at great risk to his own neck and probably hadn’t thought one whit about Miss Hester Hale in that process.

  Just when he was ready to give up on her returning and leave without the basket, the butler came in with the package. “Miss Hale asked me to deliver this to you. She said she was too exhausted to stay up any longer and knew you would understand when she had me make her apologies for not saying good night.”

  “I do understand.” Laurence was sure part of the problem was her embarrassment at his refusal to take her along on the search for her father.

  “Good luck, sir. I know the master will be grateful for all you manage to do for him and his family.”

  Laurence took his leave and stepped into the waiting carriage at the end of the walkway. He set the basket on the floor and tapped the roof to indicate he was ready to set out.

  He leaned back and closed his eyes, trusting the driver to get him to his first place to pick up intelligence on his prey.

  The rocking of the conveyance over the terrain soon lulled Laurence into a doze. He didn’t fall completely asleep, but was at least able to rest some before his rendezvous.

  The first streaks of the dawn sunrise alerted him to the new day. He sat up and poked his head out the window. “How close are we to our destination?”

  “About ten more minutes by my guess.”

  “Good. Good.” Laurence sat back and nodded his head even though the driver couldn’t see him. The arrival time was perfect. He could walk around, eat something and be ready to move on with fresh horses after the driver had a brief rest.

  When they pulled into the yard at a coaching inn, Laurence waited for the carriage to come to a complete stop before opening the door.

  He stepped out and looked up to give the coachman some instructions. As soon as he set eyes on the seat where the man sat, rage consumed him. His anger threatened to overtake him. He staggered under the weight of the shock and grabbed hold of the carriage door to keep himself upright. Dear God in his heaven, what was he going to do now?

  Chapter Fifteen

  Hetty was stunned at Laurence’s reaction upon seeing her on the seat with the driver. While she was almost sure he wouldn’t be happy with her, she didn’t expect him to go apoplectic.

  She’d come up with her plan while waiting for him to arrive at her home to let her know if anyone had found her father. Borrowing a pair of breeches and a shirt from one of the stable boys, she’d dressed to escape and covered her clothing with a coat. Surprised when Laurence didn’t make a comment about her attire, she knew she was going to be able to make her idea work. After all, if he was that bad at paying attention to things, what were the chances he’d notice her hiding with the driver of his carriage?

  She’d had to pay the man handsomely and the ride wasn’t very comfortable, but she’d made it without Laurence figuring it out and sending her home.

  “What do you think you’re doing here?” Laurence bellowed the words.

  The driver opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Laurence yelled again. “Not you. Her.”

  Hetty placed her hand on the driver’s arm. “Never mind. He’s mad at me, not you. You go on and I’ll see to Mr. Fortescue.”

  The man nodded and leapt off the carriage so fast, Hetty was afraid he’d break his leg. Or worse.

  Laurence stood at the bottom of the stairs into the conveyance and tapped his toe. He made no move to assist her to the ground.

  A bit vexed at his ungentlemanly behavior, Hetty clambered down and came to her feet right beside him. She stared into his eyes and said, “I had to come. You must understand.”

  “No, I don’t have to understand. This is a disaster. I find myself in utter shock and deeply offended that you would go against my wishes and invite yourself along on this mission without permission.”

  Frightened by his rage, Hetty’s hands shook and her knees threatened to give out on her. “I need to be involved.”

  “I should leave you right here at the inn and let you find your own way home.”

  Tears formed in her eyes. “Please don’t. I didn’t bring much money with me and I have no idea if I have enough to get back to Oxford. In fact, I don’t even know where we are. I’ve never been this route to London.”

  “I said I should leave you. I didn’t say I was actually going to. You’re lucky my mother didn’t rear me to leave ladies with no protection, but you have no idea what you’ve done to yourself by taking flight in the middle of the night with a man not related to you.”

  “What can I do to make you forgive me?” She reached for his arm, but he turned and headed toward the door of the inn.

  “Don’t talk to me for a while. I need some time to figure out what to do.” He strode on.

  “What should I do? Where shall I wait?”

  “You come with me. I’m going to order a hot meal and I may as well be sure you eat as well. But don’t say a word to me.”

  She ran to catch up to him, not wanting to be left in the yard with the group of men standing around smoking and spitting on the dirty ground. Some of them smelled as if they lived in the sty at someone’s pig farm and most didn’t appear to be trustworthy in the company of a woman.

  Of course, she told herself, they’d never guess she was a woman in the clothes she had on, but on the chance that one would while she was unprotected, she hurried into the inn on Laurence’s heels.

  He took a seat at one of the corner tables and when the landlord approached, ordered a meal for each of them. As the landlord moved away toward what she presumed was the kitchen, Laurence asked, “Has anyone left a note for a Mr. Laurence Fortescue?”

  “Matter of fact, I do have one. I’ll bring it out soon as I tell the cook what you and your boy want to eat.”

  As soon as he was gone, Hetty asked, “Who would know you would be stopping here to send you a message?”

  “I think I told you I had some friends helping me. They rode on ahead on horses. They’re able to move faster than I can with the carriage. We agreed they would send back reports so I could keep going in, hopefully, the right direction.”

  “It seems very well organized.” She stared at him for a few moments, thinking. It was strange that he’d have acquaintances who would be in a position to assist him in a search for a man who’d been taken from his own premises.

  Laurence shrugged. “We are all men of science and are able to anticipate variables. We merely put our minds to work on the problem and came up with a solution.”

  “Why are they on horseback and you’re in a carriage? Since horses are faster, wouldn’t you have made better progress on a horse like them?”

  “Of course, but if your father is injured, wouldn’t you want me to have a conveyance to bring him home in? It’d be brutal to carry a wounded man on a horse.” He stared across the table at her for a moment before adding,
“And had I been on a horse, you certainly could not have been as devious as you were because surely I would’ve noticed you perched on my saddle, wouldn’t I?”

  Before she could respond, the landlord returned with the note. “Here it is, sir. Your food will be ready very soon. We’ve also taken care of your driver.”

  “Thank you.” Laurence opened the letter and read for a few moments.

  Hetty thought she might faint before she could find out the contents, but he didn’t seemed interested in sharing with her at the moment. She supposed she should be grateful he was at least speaking to her and not still furious. Except for that comment about her being devious, he was being a bit civilized. And his concern for her father’s wellbeing was admirable.

  He folded the note and put it away without telling her what it said.

  She opened her mouth to complain about it, but the barmaid arrived with their food in that moment.

  The smell of the warm bread and cooked eggs wafted upward and tickled her nose. The long ride caught up to her at that moment and she didn’t want to wait one more moment or enter into some debate with Laurence about his correspondence. It would wait while she satisfied her hunger.

  Laurence must have had the same idea as he ate in silence as well.

  Eventually, though, she glanced up at his face. “What did the note say?”

  “I’m not going to tell you. The mere fact that you tricked me into bringing you along does not require me to share my information with you.”

  “But it’s my father we’re trying to find.”

  “That’s not the only thing at stake here.” Laurence stood and laid coins on the table. He turned and strode out of the inn.

  Hetty followed as fast as she could. She knew in her heart he wouldn’t leave her and hoped he was acting the way he was in order to make it seem she really was his young male employee. If he was being curt because he was angry, it was going to be a tedious drive in the coach.

  As soon as that thought crossed her mind, she let out a moan. What if he was going to make her continue the journey outside and on the driver’s bench?

  That would be an awful trial and while she knew Laurence wasn’t a harsh man, she realized he was so disappointed in her behavior he might very well be tempted to make life miserable for her for a while.

  Back outside, he stood at the open door of the carriage. No horses had been brought around, but Laurence tilted his head toward the conveyance. “Get inside and be silent. I’d like to be ready to leave as soon as they bring fresh mounts.”

  Knowing he was still unhappy by the terseness of his voice and the way he stood so stiffly, Hetty obeyed without making a fuss.

  She sat as far away from the door where Laurence stood and tried to make herself small. Maybe if she did as he asked and didn’t make too much noise, he would relent and soften his stance against her.

  Eventually, he got in himself, shaking the conveyance as he boarded. As he settled in the seat, the driver stuck his head in and said, “I have the girl’s property up here. Do you want it with you?”

  Hetty almost swooned. Did he have to remind Laurence of her duplicity by asking about her valise? Couldn’t he have merely left it with him? It wasn’t doing anyone any harm sitting up there.

  “Might as well set it here.” Laurence pointed to the bench across from where they sat. “I’d also prefer if you don’t let anyone know I have a passenger in here with me.”

  The man winked broadly. “Yes, sir. I understand, sir.”

  “No, you don’t. This was all my—“

  “Enough, Miss Hale. Enough.” Laurence held his hand up to silence her.

  This was not how she wanted this to go. Just as she thought he might be getting over his pique, the darned driver had to bring up her perfidy.

  Hetty bit her tongue.

  The driver disappeared and in a few moments, she felt him leap onto his perch and settle in. They were off and on their way. To where, she had no idea. She ached to read that note. It was only a few inches away in Laurence’s pocket, but she daren’t try to get hold of it. His posture was stiff and tense again.

  Would he ever forgive her?

  Laurence wasn’t happy. Not at all. How he was going to do his duty for his country without letting Miss Hale know his true mission, he didn’t know. He needed to think through all the ramifications of her actions, but that was hard to do with the lady seated right there on the bench beside him. She had some nerve to do what she did, but deep inside, he couldn’t help but admire her for it. He’d never met a girl quite like her. So passionate about so many things.

  When she believed in something, she acted on it. Knowing that took a lot of courage, he wanted to respect her for it, but since her actions put his mission at risk, he couldn’t.

  It was some time before he could bring himself to speak to her. To his shock, when he glanced over to where she sat as if she were trying to disappear into the upholstery, she was crying. So quietly and subtly that he’d missed it.

  The sight tore at his heart. She’d been rash in her action, but he’d been acting like a tyrant since the moment he’d seen her on the carriage seat.

  Realizing he needed to relent and be kinder, Laurence reached into his pocket and pulled out his handkerchief. He passed it to her. “Here. Use this and clean up your face.”

  She took if from his hand. He noticed hers was shaking.

  Wanting to take hold of it and comfort her, Laurence resisted the urge. After all, it wouldn’t be seemly since she didn’t have on gloves.

  At that thought, the incongruity of the situation hit him again and he let out a snort.

  “I know you’re mad, but you don’t have to laugh at me,” Miss Hale said.

  “I apologize. I’m not laughing at you. It merely stuck me as funny that I wanted to take your hand to assure you I’m not going to keep acting on my anger, but decided it wasn’t proper to do so since you didn’t have on your gloves. That’s the least of the improprieties here, isn’t it?”

  "When you say it that way, I see what you mean." She laughed ruefully and with a sweep of her hand indicated her attire. "The worst of it, I think, is how I'm dressed. My father will be angrier than you were when he sees me. If I don't have a chance to change into the gown I brought along, that is."

  Now that he was calmer, Laurence let his mind wander back to the moment Miss Hale walked toward him in her breeches as he sat at the table at the inn. She'd actually looked delightful with her calves and ankles showing. He knew, as a gentleman, he should've glanced aside, but it had been quite impossible. He’d been riveted. Not only did she have lovely bosoms as he’d noted on previous occasions, but her slender legs were bewitching and he could almost imagine them wrapped around his waist. Sitting there at the table, he’d reacted as a man to her and was doing so again here in the carriage.

  "You have an odd expression on your face. Are you thinking about the contents of the note you received at the inn? Do you think we'll find my father today while I'm still disguised as a boy?"

  "No, I'm not thinking of that at all." The blood suffused his face. It had to be obvious what was on his mind by the way the heat rushed through his body. "May I confess my thoughts without offending you, Miss Hale?"

  "I can promise nothing as far as that until I hear the words, but surely, as things stand now between us—with me being completely out of the bounds of proper behavior—surely, you can dispense with the Miss Hale and call me Hetty. At least when we’re alone."

  "We shouldn't be alone, but since that's how we keep finding ourselves, you should call me Laurence as well." He knew this new familiarity was most likely a mistake, but he couldn't see a way around it. He'd already been unkind to her earlier and couldn't bring himself to do so again.

  She settled back against the seat as if content now. He was glad to see the tears disappear. As well, he was delighted she didn’t ask further about what he’d been thinking about before she granted him permission to use her first name.


  It was imperative for him to figure out how to complete his duty without her learning his true role. If he had to arrest her father for treason, he surely wouldn't be able to keep it hidden. And knowing her as he was learning to, she'd be certain not to protect his secret if it came down to her father against him. She'd proven how fiercely loyal she was to her sire.

  "May I ask you a question?" Hetty, as he would now endeavor to think of her, asked. "I don't want to disturb you as you seem deep in thought."

  "What is it?"

  She pointed out the window. "Where are we going? You said last night you were going to London, but we should have arrived long ago and I don't recognize where we are."

  Laurence didn’t want to lie to her, but also didn’t want her to know he’d known all along they weren’t going to London so he told a half truth. “The note I received at the inn changed our course.”

  “But I already didn’t recognize the terrain before we even stopped.”

  “I’m sure there’s more than one way to travel to London.”

  Hetty shrugged. “I don’t know. My father always takes the same post road. I think it’s the safe way to go. The further off the normal path a traveler goes, the more likely he or she is to attract the attention of brigands.” She smiled. “That’s what he always says.”

  The smile turned to a frown and a couple of tears escaped. “Oh, Laurence, do you think he’s dead?”

  He couldn’t bear to see her anguish and reached out to lightly touch her hand where it rested on the bench. “I think he’s still alive. We mustn’t give up hope.”

  “May I see the letter you got at the inn?”

  He shook his head. “I’m afraid not.”

  “What harm could it do? If it’s about my father, surely I have some right to read it?”

  “No, I’m sorry but it’s my personal correspondence and I always keep that to myself.”

  “But it relates to my father.”

  “As well as other things. Trust me, Miss Hale—“

  “Hetty, remember?”

  “Trust me, then Hetty, I’m going to do all I can to find your father.” He wished he could tell her he’d do all he could to be sure her father came home safely, but he couldn’t make that promise since he most likely would be arrested and charged with treason. Her reaction to that turn of events concerned him, not only because she would be ruined socially, but because her heart would be broken at her father’s perfidy. To say nothing of the fact that she would hate Laurence for being the instrument of her father’s capture. And that somehow bothered him the most.