Charles turned to him with a scowl. “I resent your presumption that I would waste time with meaningless inquiries. If you have nothing useful to contribute, Lord Devon, I will thank you to kindly shut up.”
“Such inspirational words, Major,” Lane snapped.
“If you wish to continue on your own, please do. I believe I will take this path.” Charles led his horse toward the side path, when Lane stopped him.
“I must give you credit, Charles; you do have nerve. Although, I had hoped you would not show it at this moment. We should remain together, no matter how much you wish to be rid of me.”
Charles leapt from his horse and strode angrily toward Lane, who had dismounted as well. Anna’s brother clearly had issues with anger, superiority, and resentment. None of those had a place in their current venture, and Lane would make sure that Charles knew it.
Lane prepared himself as Charles pulled his fist back and punched him in his already bruised jaw. Pain speared across his face, and he staggered back.
Charles entered the ready position for a proper match, but Lane merely shook his head to clear it. He experimentally moved his jaw. “Are you quite finished?”
“Fight me, damn it!” Charles put up his fists and circled Lane.
“I have no wish to fight you, Charles. You may hit me if you wish, but as far as I am concerned, we should be en route to rescue Anna.” He paused. “Why do you wish me to fight you? Now that I think on it, why did you call me out when you could have merely allowed Anna and I to marry?”
“You have no right to question me, sir, when you should be questioning your own behaviour.”
Lane frowned. “What of my behaviour?”
“You took advantage of Anna’s innocence and vulnerability, then got her pregnant with your bastard!” Charles exploded venomously.
“I will have you know that I have loved Annabel since I was sixteen. I may have only discovered my feelings for her recently, but that does not change the fact that they are of long duration, deep, and true.
“You, contrarily, informed my sister that you loved her, left for battle, then returned only to spurn her!” A blanket of white rage came down over Charles’ expression. He opened his mouth to undoubtedly utter a hot retort, but Lane cut him off. “Meanwhile, your beloved sister has been kidnapped by men who unquestionably wish to harm her—or worse—and you are wasting precious time by standing here arguing with me. I may not be the brother by marriage that you desire, but that is not a reason to hate me.
“My unborn child was not created in the despicable manner that you imply.” Lane could not help but defend himself on that score. “If we are to continue to search for Anna in an amicable fashion, you must first overcome your resentment toward me and accept that I only wish for what is best for her. I love her, and believe it or not, I do like you.” He shrugged one shoulder. “Although God knows what horrible things happened during war to have you turn into such a damnable bugger.”
Charles stared at Lane in silence, his jaw working as he absorbed Lane’s speech.
“As for your original inquiry, Charles, and in the interest of speeding things along in our search, I rather think that Anna’s abductors would continue on the main roads. They know that we would assume otherwise.”
Charles’ expression was blank for a moment, then he exploded. “By damn, why did I not think of that?” He ran a hand agitatedly through his hair. “You are right, of course. I have been thinking only of myself, and not the tortures that Anna must be enduring at this moment. I am willing to call a truce until we recover Anna. Any outstanding issues we may have can be resolved another time.
Chapter 40
Anna shifted her seat on the hard stone floor. Her bottom had lost its feeling several hours ago, but she knew that if she did not shift, she would only be in more pain. She had several smarting bruises on her person; most were from rough handling from her captors, but the others were from kneeling and shifting on the hard ground of the cabin or from falling sideways and needing to right herself.
While her wrists and ankles were abraded and bleeding from her attempts to pull herself free, she was grateful that they had not gagged her again. The fabric had dried out her mouth, and it tasted horribly.
Her stomach had surpassed hunger long ago, and now bordered on starvation. She had been kept satiated on minimal amounts of water, but had not received any food. She had gotten ill several times, and once, she was slightly pleased to recall, on Toby. He had not looked so smug when she had cast up her accounts directly on his chest.
A cool breeze whistled through a crack in the cabin wall, and Anna shivered. The cabin was chilled and dark, and it smelled of must and dirt. The windows had been boarded over, but Anna was certain that it was nightfall. She was weak and dizzy, but she forced herself to focus on finding a means to escape.
She rolled her hip and pulled her tied ankles beneath her, then pressed her back against the wall and, using all her strength, slid herself awkwardly up until she stood. She waited a moment for her dizziness to pass before she hopped about the cabin. She first tried the door and windows, but with her hands tied behind her back and her ankles tied, her mobility was woefully restricted.
Her gaze darted around the space. There was a tall, narrow table, counters in the kitchen space, two empty bookshelves, a tall mirror, a wardrobe cabinet… Wait just a moment. The fog in her mind suddenly cleared. The mirror!
Anna cursed loudly as she bumped her hip against a table, but she managed to find the mirror in the darkness. She knocked it hard with her bruised hip, sending it crashing to the floor. She carefully lowered herself to her knees, earning several cuts through her skirts. She disregarded them and leaned to her side, reaching from behind her back with her hands in search of a large piece of broken glass.
A brief wave of satisfaction went through her as she found a piece, before she sliced her finger and cursed again. Her hands trembled as she began scraping the glass against the rope binding her wrists.
Several minutes passed before she felt the ropes loosen. Jubilation rushed through her as the rope snapped and her wrists were freed. She tossed the shard aside and brought her arms around the front of her, grimacing at the ache in her shoulders.
Anna hastily wiped her blood-soaked hands on her skirts before she reached for the binding at her ankles.
* * *
The cabin appeared empty from a distance, but Lane was certain that Anna was within. He worried for her health and safety, and that of their baby.
They had briefly surveyed the home in which the four kidnappers were allegedly housed, but aside from the chimney blowing smoke, they had seen no sign of them. Lane had his reservations as to their whereabouts.
They’d settled their horses in a glade a mile back and walked the remaining distance to the cabin, so as not to alert the villains to their arrival.
Charles nudged Lane in the rib. “It is not wise for them to leave Anna alone in the cabin. They must know that we could easily come to retrieve her. Something is not right.” His harsh whisper broke the silence around them.
Lane opened his mouth to reply, his jaw still smarting, but another voice cut in. “You are correct, Major Bradley. Or should I call you Hydra,” Frenchie’s accented voice sneered.
Charles scoffed. “I am aware that you know my identity, fool. The Boss has sent me numerous letters informing me as much.”
Lane squinted at Charles in confusion. Identity? What in blazes was Charles on about?
“Tell me what you have done with Anna, and I will tell the courts to be lenient with you.”
Frenchie’s laugh veritably dripped with condescension. “I am not so much a fool as you Englishmen. A Frenchman would never fall for nonsense such as zat.” He sighed with apparent impatience. “Now, come out of ze bushes before I lose my patience and shoot you both through your filthy English ’arts.”
Charles nodded at Lane, and they stepped into the clearing around the c
abin. Frenchie stood with a pistol aimed at both of them, one in each hand.
“You have us at a disadvantage,” Charles drawled. “What is it that you would like from us?”
“Zere is only one of you zat I require. I used your troublesome sister to get you ’ere. Now zat I no longer need her…” He let out a sharp whistle, and Toby strode out from behind the cabin with a torch held aloft.
“No!” Lane pulled the pistol from the back of his breeches, took aim, and shot Toby through the chest. The large man, and the torch, fell heavily to the dirt-covered ground.
“Imbecile!” Frenchie’s screech was high and long, but was drowned out as another shot rang through the clearing.
The echo resounded in his ears but didn’t detract from the searing heat spreading through his left shoulder. A string of foul curses fell from his lips as he looked down at his shoulder. Dark, shining liquid soaked his black coat, and he cursed again. I’ve been shot!
He was hardly cognizant of the fact that Charles had leapt on Frenchie and the both of them had fallen to the ground and now fought for the upper hand.
Lane shook his head to clear his thoughts as he pulled his second pistol from his coat pocket and hurried toward the cabin. Even if he perished, he would damned well save Anna before he did.
He made it halfway through the clearing when a branch swung before his eyes, narrowly missing him. He stopped as Billy and the red-haired villain flanked him. Hell and blazes.
* * *
Rustling and mumbling echoed outside the cabin, and Anna’s stomach jumped. Could someone have come to her aid? Or was it her captors come to torment her? She willed the beating of her heart to slow so she could hear past its rushing in her ears.
Finally, she heard Charles’ voice and her heart felt buoyant. He had come to rescue her!
She worked faster with the ropes, anxious to be free. Her fingers fumbled with the thick rope as the tips of her nails were shredded. She pushed past the pain. The sooner she freed herself, the sooner she could be at home, in Lane’s arms after a long hot bath and a small feast.
She heard a shout that she knew distinctly to be Lane’s. Despite herself, her heart flipped over in her chest. He’d come!
Shots rang out in the clearing, and Anna went cold.
Oh no, oh no, oh no! Please let Lane and Charles be unharmed!
Finally, her fumbling fingers pulled the knot free and she slid her ankles out.
More shouts echoed outside the cabin and Anna rose shakily to her feet. There must be some way that she could be of help!
She stumbled on her first step, but made her way to the large window at the back of the cabin.
How am I to get the boards off?
* * *
Lane’s left arm proved useless. He fought the red haired man while Billy took to a run.
The red-haired man took advantage of Lane’s injury and struck from the left. Lane accurately placed each return punch to the man’s face. His opponent was wiry and wily, and Lane’s only chance was the dagger in his boot.
Charles mumbled curses under his breath as he fought Frenchie several yards behind him.
A burst of light caught his attention, and his startled gaze flew toward the cabin. That damned Billy had retrieved the flaming torch and lit the cabin on fire.
Lane scarcely recognized the hoarse, agonized scream that emanated from him and echoed through the clearing. “No! Anna!”
The red-haired man hit his injured shoulder, knocking Lane to the ground. The man leapt on top of him and laughed in Lane’s face, blowing his vile breath at him.
“Yer little miss is gonna meet ’er maker,” he sneered in his gravelly voice.
Lane looked again at the cabin, his heart in his throat as the flames licked at the dry wood, spreading rapidly.
Bloody hell! He hadn’t much time.
* * *
Anna cried out as the wood covering the window splintered in her already cut fingers. She shook her hands and darted her gaze about the dark cabin for something to use as leverage.
She gasped, then coughed; the cabin was filling with smoke. Someone had lit it on fire!
As quickly as she could, Anna rushed to the small table and knocked it to its side. She felt her way to the legs of the table, then straightened her back. Lifting one foot into the air, Anna stomped her foot against the table’s leg with as much strength as she could muster.
Naught happened but a small crack. Anna breathed deeply and stomped again, releasing a very unladylike grunt as she did so.
Crack! The leg split from the table’s top, and Anna eagerly scooped it up. She spun, wobbling on her unsteady legs as she strode to the window. She wedged the narrow end of the leg between the wooden board and the window’s frame and pulled.
Her hands stung, and her body quavered and ached. She gasped for breath, very much afraid that she would not be able to free herself.
A hoarse cry of anguish resounded beyond the door to the cabin, and Anna’s heart stalled.
Terror gripped her, and she pulled harder on the table leg. She put the whole weight of her body behind it. She suddenly was possessed of a strength that she did not know she had, and the nail popped easily from the window’s frame, the board falling to swing loosely from the other nail.
Without forethought, Anna averted her face and smashed the window with the table’s leg, knocking away the shards of glass around its edge.
The opened window seemed to encourage the fire; an inferno of angry flames climbed up the walls and to the roof.
* * *
Lane watched in horror as the fire engulfed the cabin.
In the face of the red-haired man’s wicked laughter and punishing blows, Lane miraculously garnered his strength and lowered his hand to his boot. He scarcely took notice of the fists connecting with his flesh and bone, as his fingers reached the hilt of his blade. He slid it up his palm to grasp it firmly.
Lane waited until the wretch’s hand was raised, ready to deliver another excruciating punch, when Lane plunged his dagger into the bugger’s ribs.
With a cry of agony, the red-haired man fell to the ground, clutching his wound.
Lane’s heart fluttered with renewed anxiety as Charles appeared before him, his hand extended. Lane accepted and stood, glancing back at the sputtering form of Frenchie, who lay on the ground with Charles’ sword protruding from his stomach.
Despite the considerable amount of pain Lane was in, he forced his legs into a run. “Anna!”
Charles kept pace beside him, looking as frantic as Lane felt.
They reached the blazing cabin, and Lane stopped to look at the weakened door. “Help me get my coat off.” Lane struggled with his left shoulder and his numerous other injuries, but with Charles’ assistance, he removed his coat and draped it over his head. “I’m going in!” he called over the din of lapping flames.
He took two steps forward, when a loud creak and groan made him hesitate. He pulled his coat from his head in time to see the roof of the cabin collapse.
“No!” He leapt forward, but a pair of arms wrapped around him from behind, pulling him back. “Let me go! Anna! Anna!” His heart felt torn from his chest.
“I will not allow you to enter,” Charles shouted in his ear. “It has to be me. You are injured and not fit to retrieve her.”
A tear slid down his cheek, and Lane realized that he was crying. He would be embarrassed, but at the moment he did not care. “Nothing will stop me!”
“What about me?”
Lane and Charles both turned to see Anna round the corner of the blazing cabin, the flickering orange light illuminating her dusty cheeks, fallen coiffure, and blood-streaked dress and hands. She looked affright, but his heart leapt to see her standing.
“Anna!” Lane pushed past the pain searing through his body as he ran to her, pulling her into a tight embrace. “I am so glad that you are well.” He pulled back slightly to look down at her face thr
ough his tear-filled eyes. “You are well, aren’t you?”
“I am sporting many cuts and bruises, and I am positively parched and famished, but otherwise I am unharmed.”
Lane held her lightly, his soul-deep desire to envelop her in a crushing embrace notwithstanding, and leaned down for a short kiss.
“I will never leave your side again,” he murmured in her ear. “I love you so very much, Annabel.”
She leaned up and kissed him back. “I love you, too, Lane. Now, shall we return home?”
Charles appeared beside them, glowering. “I am pleased that you are well, Annabel.” He glanced between the two of them. “But I am still unsure how I feel about the two of you.”
Anna withdrew from Lane’s embrace and stepped before Charles. “I am pleased that you are well, also, Charles. But I am afraid that there is nothing you could do that would separate Lane and me.” She paused while a fit of coughing overtook her, the force of them causing her to stagger. “You will find that I am rather inflexible on the matter.”
Charles sighed and pulled Anna into his familial embrace. “Very well, little sister.”
“Hyd—Major!”
The three of them spun around as five men entered the clearing. One Lane recognized as Mr. Thomson.
“Pardon me,” Charles muttered as he went to greet them.
“Who are those men?” Lane asked as he weakly led Anna further from the flames of the cabin.
“I haven’t the faintest notion.”
Lane’s vision went blurry, and he was abruptly afraid that he would perish before ensuring that Anna knew how he truly felt. “I meant what I said, Anna. I do not wish to be parted from you again. I—I felt as though my heart had been ripped from my chest when I saw that fire begin, then it nearly failed me when the roof fell in. I could not bear to lose you, my love.”
Love's Misadventure (The Mason Siblings Series Book 1) Page 26
