by Vanessa Kelly, Christi Caldwell, Theresa Romain, Shana Galen
Roman threw himself on the leader, taking him hard to the ground. “Antonia, run,” he barked as he grappled with the man.
She would do no such thing, although she took a few steps back and kept a wary eye on the wounded man and his companion, who seemed at a loss what to do. Her well-balanced blade was exceedingly sharp, and she had little doubt she could hit one of them if she threw it, despite her rattled nerves. Fortunately, the two scoundrels appeared to have lost interest in her.
“Come on, Bob,” shouted the uninjured man. Holding onto each other, they took off at a stumbling run for the cover of the trees.
The third man, meanwhile, gave a great heave and flung Roman off, then leapt to his feet and took off after the others. Rolling into a crouch, Roman came smoothly upright but made no attempt to pursue their attackers.
“What are you doing?” she exclaimed. “You’re letting them escape!”
His ferocious scowl was evident even in the fitful light of the distant lanterns. Grabbing Antonia’s elbow, he propelled her toward the path back to the Grove.
“Of course I’m letting them go.”
“Why, for heaven’s sake?”
“The one I took down had another pistol in his coat. I felt it during our ridiculous wrestling match. I couldn’t take the chance he would get it out and shoot one of us.”
“Why didn’t you pull out your pistol and shoot him?”
“Because I don’t have a bloody pistol on me.”
She blinked. “I would have thought you always carried one. My father does.”
It sounded like he was grinding his molars. “I am not in the habit of carrying weapons when I attend social occasions. They hardly seem like an appropriate accessory while dancing with pretty girls.”
“Not generally, I suppose.” Which was unfortunate in this case.
“Speaking of weapons, where did you get that knife?” he asked.
“From under my skirts.”
“You carry a blasted knife under your skirts?”
They’d broken free of the trees and were now on one of the lighted paths. Just ahead was the colonnaded walkway, packed with strollers.
Antonia pulled him to a stop and bunched up her hem, showing him the sleeve strapped to her calf. After carefully wiping her blade on some leaves, she slipped the knife back into its holder.
Roman stared at her leg, apparently struck dumb.
“Papa had this made for me a few years ago,” she said. “He says that knives are much more dependable than pistols.”
“Your father taught you how to throw a knife?” he asked with disbelief.
She nodded. “After someone tried to rob me in Wapping a few years ago, in broad daylight, if you can believe it.”
He shook his head, muttering something that was best ignored.
“Anyway, when Papa is not with me, he insists that I carry a blade. I usually strap it to my leg. It’s easier to access that way, even if it sometimes put snags in my stockings.”
“He should have gotten you a bodyguard, instead.”
“He tried, but I put my foot down. Fortunately, Mamma agreed with me that a bodyguard was unnecessary.”
He eyed her with a look she couldn’t decipher. Antonia felt a blush creep into her cheeks. After all, genteel young ladies generally didn’t go about stabbing people, no matter how warranted.
“You are completely mad,” he finally said.
His words hurt more than they should, especially since she barely knew him. Still, she felt a connection with him, one she’d never experienced with another man. And for a few minutes, she’d thought Roman had felt the same.
Clearly, she’d been mistaken.
“My madness saved our lives, Captain Cantrell.” She started toward the Grove.
He grasped her arm and reeled her back in. “Don’t run off.”
“Why not?” she asked gruffly. “So you can insult me some more?”
“No, so I can apologize for being an ungrateful thickhead. I’m not used to young ladies rescuing me at knifepoint. It’s unnerving, since I’m supposed to do the rescuing.”
She’d hurt his pride. “I’m sure you would have done so at the first opportunity.”
“Yes, that was my plan,” he said dryly.
He must think her a complete hoyden, and she couldn’t blame him. Still, it was better than being dead.
“I commend you on keeping your wits,” he added. “It was a frightening situation.”
“I was a bit rattled but also fairly confident we’d be able to handle them. After all, you are a ruthless sea captain, are you not?”
He snorted. “Antonia, allow me to say that you are a decidedly unusual girl.”
She sighed. “You mean odd, don’t you?”
A funny sort of smile played around the corners of his hard mouth. For a crazed moment, she was tempted to drag his head down and taste his lips.
“I didn’t say that,” he said in a low, seductive voice as he leaned a fraction closer.
For a glorious moment she thought he was going to kiss her. The breath caught in her throat as she swayed toward him.
Suddenly, he pulled back. After casting a quick glance behind him, he took her arm and headed for the Grove.
Inside, Antonia felt something deflate. She’d wanted that kiss more than she’d wanted anything in a very long time.
Well, perhaps he was distracted by the fact that someone had just tried to kill them. That was certainly a reasonable and more comforting explanation for his obvious reluctance.
“Do you have any idea who those men were?”
“I do not,” he said. “But I will find out.”
“Maybe the man they were waiting for is one of your business rivals. Papa always says shipping and trade are very cutthroat.”
“I’m sure he’s speaking metaphorically. English traders aren’t generally in the habit of murdering each other.”
“I can ask Papa about it. He might have heard rumors.”
Roman pulled her to a stop and clamped his hands on her shoulders. “You are not to say a word to your father, understand?”
“But—”
“Antonia, if he finds out you were at risk because of me, then one English trader will murder another. So unless you want to see your father on his way to the gallows for dispatching me, keep your pretty mouth firmly buttoned.”
She waved an annoyed hand. “Oh, very well. Although I truly don’t think Papa would murder you.”
“Let’s not test that theory, shall we?”
“Tony, thank God!”
They turned to see Richard dashing toward them, his pharaoh’s crown tilted sideways on his head. He shoved a pair of inebriated Vikings out of the way as he pelted up, waving her bedraggled wand.
“Where have you been?” he demanded. “I found your wand lying on the ground and thought you’d been dragged off.” His gaze darted over her figure. “You look a mess. One of your wings is twisted.”
She craned around, trying to glimpse her back. “Oh, dear. Those wings were quite expensive, too.”
Her friend glared at Roman. “What did you do to her, you scoundrel?”
“Captain Cantrell didn’t do anything,” she said firmly. “In fact, he rescued me after we were accosted by thieves.”
Roman cast Richard a sardonic gaze. “It was Miss Barnett who effected our rescue, in point of fact.”
“Used your knife, did you?” Richard said. “Good for you, Tony.”
“You know she carries a knife strapped to her leg?” Roman said in a disapproving tone.
“And a good thing she does, too. Thought she’d be safe in your company, Captain Cantrell. It’s the only reason I let her go talk to you.”
“Richard, I do not need your permission to talk to Roman…Captain Cantrell,” Antonia said. “I don’t need your permission to talk to anyone.”
Her friend thrust out a stubborn jaw. “It’s my job to look out for you when your father isn’t here.”
“Good j
ob, so far,” Roman said with a snort.
“Well, it sounds like you didn’t cover yourself in glory either,” Richard said hotly. “You should be grateful Tony was there to pull you out of a such a kick up. Huzzah for her.”
Roman ignored him. “Miss Barnett, I suggest that you and Mr. Keane return to the Grove immediately. Better yet, go home and try to stay the hell out of trouble.”
On that blighting note, he stalked into the woods, quickly vanishing into the night.
Chapter Three
* * *
Antonia bounced the baby on her lap, smiling as the little girl chortled with glee.
“You’re very good with children,” Lady Hunter said with an approving nod. “Most young ladies of the beau monde hardly know how to even hold them.”
“I suppose they’re never given the chance.” Antonia carefully extracted a stray lock of her hair from the baby’s fist. “Their lives are so regimented, and then they’re sent away to school when they’re still so young.”
“You were not, I take it.”
“Papa wouldn’t hear of it. He said we’d all been apart for too long, and he had too much time to make up with his daughter.” No point in pretending Papa was only her stepfather, since it was clear that Lady Hunter already knew the truth.
“Good for him. I could never abide the practice of separating children from their parents at such an early age. It’s barbaric.” Her ladyship placed her teacup on the little wrought iron table between them. “And speaking of barbaric, Lisbet is demolishing your coiffure. Let me take her so you can finish your tea.”
They were in the lush rose garden behind Lady Hunter’s manor house in Camberwell, which served as both her home and her establishment for unfortunate girls and their babies. Her ladyship had sent a gracious invitation to both Mamma and Antonia to discuss her charity work, so they’d made the hour-long drive out to the village to spend the afternoon.
Unfortunately, a little subterfuge had been necessary, since Mamma had insisted they keep their outing a secret.
“Your father will raise a ridiculous fuss, forcing me to put my foot down,” Mamma had said. “Whatever his objections might be to Griffin Steele, Sir Dominic and Lady Hunter are above reproach. I wouldn’t dream of offending that good woman by refusing her invitation.”
“I don’t think it’s about Griffin Steele,” Antonia had replied. “It’s Captain Cantrell he objects to.”
“Well, that’s between your father and the captain. Besides, I very much doubt Cantrell will be there. This is a charitable outing, not a party.”
Since Antonia very much wanted to further her acquaintance with Lady Hunter and her family, she found her mother’s logic quite compelling. And if she and Mamma were forced to tell a few fibs about where they were going today, well, it was for Papa’s own good. Captain Cantrell wouldn’t be anywhere near a charitable establishment. And even if he were, he had no interest in her anyway. He’d made that perfectly clear the other night when he’d dumped her back in Richard’s care and stalked off.
Antonia handed over the squirming little tyke.
“I take it you didn’t mind not attending a girl’s seminary,” Chloe said as she handed Lisbet off to the nursemaid who’d just come out to fetch her.
“Lord, no. But I don’t think I would have done very well, anyway,” Antonia said.
“Nonsense. You’re obviously an exceedingly intelligent young woman. Too intelligent for the average girl’s seminary, I suspect.”
“It wasn’t that. I just didn’t possess the knack for getting along with most of the other girls. Papa let me go as a day pupil to Miss Barton’s school in London for a term.” She gave her hostess a rueful smile. “Let us just say I was an abject failure.”
Lady Hunter cocked a knowing eyebrow. “The other girls teased you?”
“Rather unmercifully, I’m afraid. I didn’t take it very well.”
“I had a similar experience. My guardian sent me away to boarding school when I was fifteen. I also had difficulty fitting in.”
“I suspect you didn’t deliver an uppercut to a schoolmate’s jaw, did you?” After suffering one too many insults about her parents, Antonia had finally taken justice into her own hands.
Lady Hunter almost spilled her tea. “No, but in retrospect, I wish I had. Were you asked to leave?”
“Yes, and Papa thought it best I study at home from then on. I’m sure my classmates agreed,” Antonia said with a chuckle. “Mamma tutored me in the usual subjects, and Papa also had me down to his offices to learn mathematics, navigation, and bookkeeping.”
“That sounds vastly more interesting than going to school.”
“I enjoyed it very much. There was always a great deal of activity and something new to learn. And it was particularly exciting whenever one of Papa’s ships came into port.” Antonia closed her eyes and breathed out a sigh, enjoying the warmth of the sun on her face. “To tell you the truth, I miss it.”
“You don’t visit your father’s offices anymore?”
She opened her eyes to see Lady Hunter studying her with a great deal of sympathy. “He says it’s not appropriate for respectable young ladies to be spending time in a business environment. Papa is afraid I’ll damage my prospects on the Marriage Mart. As if they don’t already know that my father is a trader,” she said, flapping a hand.
“I believe your mother’s father was a viscount, was he not?”
Antonia refreshed her cup from the dainty Sevres teapot that sat between them. “For most of the ton, that’s hardly enough to erase the odor of commerce that clings to the Barnett family name.”
“I find that most of them are idiots and best ignored.”
“I much prefer Nightingale Trading to Mayfair. When one of Papa’s ships comes into port, it’s like the entire world has arrived at our door.” Antonia wrinkled her nose. “But now I’m expected to spend my days on rounds of boring visits with disapproving mothers and sit about at dreary balls with the rest of the unfortunate wallflowers.”
Lady Hunter flashed her a wry smile. “When you put it like that, I’m happy I managed to avoid that situation.”
“I don’t mean to sound ungrateful,” Antonia said, “especially since my father simply wants the best for me. But I seem to have a fatal knack for the saying the wrong thing, especially to men. I just wish I had something useful to do with my life instead of waiting for some man to decide he wishes to marry me. Something like you do, Lady Hunter.”
“You do have a say in the process, my dear girl.”
“Some days I wonder.”
Lady Hunter fell silent, her gaze on a fragrant bed of blush pink roses. Antonia surrendered to the beauty of the old-fashioned rose garden and the peace of a country village on a late summer’s day. Mamma was still inside with Justine Steele, talking with the residents and spending time with the children. Antonia had little doubt her mother would make an offer of patronage to support the charity’s excellent work.
And perhaps Antonia might even be able to volunteer in Camberwell a few days a week. It would be something worthwhile and might help to calm her restless spirit.
Her hostess finally stirred from her reverie. “Have you not met any young men you find interesting?”
One, but he’s not all that young, nor is he very interested in me.
“Not really.”
“What about Richard Keane? He seems very nice.”
“We’re more like brother and sister than anything else.”
“That will never do,” Lady Hunter said with a twinkle. “What about my nephew, Captain Cantrell? He’s a very nice man, if a bit intimidating. You seemed to get along quite well that night you met him, until he apparently frightened you off.”
Antonia grimaced. “I was flummoxed when he told me that his father was the Duke of Clarence. I acted like a complete ninny.”
“I’m sure Roman doesn’t think so.”
“Actually, he thinks I’m a hoyden.”
“Why woul
d he think that?”
“I did speak to the captain at the masked ball the other night, and we sorted out the confusion over his father. But then we had, um, a little contretemps.”
Lady Hunter’s eyebrows shot up. “You were with Roman when he was held up? My dear, how upsetting for you. I had no idea.”
“Yes, it was distressing for both of us. Captain Cantrell, though, was mostly upset that I pulled out my knife and cut one of our captors.”
Her ladyship looked taken aback. “That was intrepid of you. Do you always carry a knife?”
“Usually.” She sighed. “I know, it’s not very ladylike.”
After a fraught pause, Lady Hunter grinned at her. “I think it’s splendid that you defended yourself. In fact, you’d fit right in with the women in our family, I assure you.”
“Really?”
“Really, and I’m sure Roman found you both enterprising and delightful.”
“We can pretend he did, anyway,” Antonia said.
“There’s no need to pretend. You can ask him yourself right now.”
She followed Lady Hunter’s gaze to see Roman striding out the French doors and down to the lawn. Antonia had to resist the impulse to curse and slink behind the nearest bush.
When she got a good look at him, she was glad she hadn’t. In the light of day, Roman Cantrell was even more handsome and imposing than he’d been under the glittering lights of Vauxhall. Garbed in a burgundy riding coat, tight-fitting breeches, and shiny black boots, he looked so delicious she wanted to fan herself. And when sunlight glinted off his gold earring, perversely highlighting his rampant masculinity, her heart seemed to trip over itself. If Antonia was the type of girl who fainted, she suspected she’d be on the ground right now.
Of course, since they hadn’t parted on the best of terms, a maidenly swoon would likely be wasted on him.
Lady Hunter rose from her wrought-iron seat. “Roman, my dear, what a delightful surprise.”
He paused for a fraction too long. “Er, yes. I hope I’m not intruding. I was just passing by Camberwell and thought I’d pop in.”
As if one happened by little country villages every day. It appeared that Lady Hunter enjoyed matchmaking, too.
