The Hero Least Likely

by Darcy Burke

  “I don’t want to.” She untied her dressing gown, but stopped short of slipping it from her shoulders. She was trying very hard to be seductive and brave, but he saw the underlying tremor of apprehension.

  Christ, she was a virgin. Ethan didn’t do virgins. Not since he’d been one, anyway. That had been an awkward affair when he was fifteen. From then on, he’d sought out more experienced partners. Yet, he felt certain none of them would hold a candle to Audrey.

  “Audrey, you must. Your reputation might be tainted, but I will not be responsible for actually ruining you.”

  “What if I told you I was already ruined?”

  He thought of the blacksmith’s son and her aborted escape to America. Her behavior with him over the past several days did not indicate a woman who was comfortable with a man on an intimate level. “I wouldn’t believe you.”

  Even as he said it, he was less sure. Had something happened with the blacksmith’s son? He suddenly wanted to get on a goddamned ship and find the prick on the other side of the world.

  Her frame relaxed slightly, and so did his. “I can tell you want me. Why can’t I stay?”

  He couldn’t keep from laughing, loving her honesty. How strange and pleasant the world would be if people were as genuine as her.

  “It’s best for everyone.” He reached out and tied her robe closed, his hands lightly shaking as they grazed her hip. He wanted so desperately to tear every strip of fabric from her body and worship her in the golden glow of the fire. “You deserve a better life than running with me.”

  She splayed her hand against his chest, and his will faltered. “You don’t have to run.” She was killing him.

  He kissed her again, more gently this time, but still with all the need he’d suppressed for as long as he could remember. Forever, probably. He could relent. Relinquish the control he relied upon to keep himself apart, safe, alone. It was why he didn’t trust anyone to get close. They’d all left him or hurt him or both. If there was one thing he’d learned it was that nothing was permanent. Nothing. At least not for him.

  He tore his mouth from hers. He put his hands on her shoulders and pushed away from her, backing up several steps before he could change his mind. “Go. Please.”

  “I won’t cry off.” She elevated her chin and gave him a challenging stare. “You’ll have to be the one to do it.” She knew he didn’t want to, was trying to call his bluff. She turned and left, her curls taunting him as she went.

  He stared at the closed door for a long time. It was unfortunate she didn’t realize that no one forced him to do anything. Why then, was he considering it?

  Audrey had a maid wake her early the next morning. She didn’t want Ethan dashing off before she rose. When she arrived downstairs, however, she learned he’d accompanied Fox to the orphanage to help him with some repairs. Worried he might try to leave her at Bassett Manor, she hurried to join them.

  During the short ride to Stipple’s End, she relived Ethan’s kisses. And his rejection. She’d been disappointed that he’d turned her away, but she also knew how painful it had been for him to do so. She smiled, hoping she’d started to convince him they could be better together than apart.

  Upon arriving at the orphanage, she was relieved to find him and Fox working on a section of fence. Around a sheep pasture. She smiled at the irony, given where they’d slept two nights ago.

  The remainder of the morning passed in a blur as Audrey assisted Mrs. Gates with various duties around Stipple’s End. It was nearly luncheon when Mrs. Gates asked her to oversee the children in setting the table. When Audrey was finished, she made her way to the kitchen to see if she could help serve the food.

  Audrey halted just outside the door at the sound of Rob Knott’s voice. “The man said he was from Bow Street, that he was looking for a man called Jagger or Locke.”

  “Bow Street?” Fox said, his tone rising with surprise.

  Bow Street was here? Audrey couldn’t breathe. She didn’t want to alert anyone to her presence, but more importantly, she just couldn’t seem to draw air into her lungs.

  “Unfortunately, Stratham overheard the man and offered that he’d met Locke at Bassett Manor, that he’s your guest.”

  Fox swore. “Pardon me, Mrs. Gates. Stratham’s a menace.”

  “Did you know Bow Street was looking for Locke?” Rob asked.

  “No, I didn’t.” Fox sounded dismayed. “I’ll go and speak with him. Rob, is the Runner on his way?”

  “I don’t know,” Rob said. “As soon as I realized Bow Street was looking for him, I came straight here.”

  It was all Audrey needed to hear. She tore out of the building and stopped short. Miranda and three girls were just dismounting from their horses in the stable yard. Audrey could scarcely believe her good luck. She hurried over.

  Miranda handed her reins to one of the boys who were learning how to groom. “Audrey, are we late for luncheon? I lost track of time, I’m afraid. The girls were doing so well today.”

  “No, you’re right on time.” Audrey eyed Miranda’s mount. “Do you mind if I borrow one of the horses? I need to fetch Ethan and I turned my ankle, so I’d prefer to ride.” The lie fell off her tongue with surprising ease.

  “Not at all, take mine,” Miranda said.

  Audrey wasn’t sure she wanted to take Miranda’s horse. What if she and Ethan left immediately? She was still only borrowing the creature, but the length of the loan was currently indeterminate. “I’ll just take this one.” She took the reins of the nearest animal.

  “That’s Posy. She won’t give you any trouble.”

  Audrey led her to the block and mounted. “See you in a bit!” She rather doubted that was true and felt a pang of regret that she was perhaps leaving without a proper thank-you or good-bye. She smiled at Miranda. “Thank you. For everything.” Then she turned Posy and raced for the sheep pasture.

  Ethan drove a nail into the fence, the effort and exercise soothing him in a way he’d never expected. It was so different out here—the quiet, the smell of earth and grass, the simplicity. He wasn’t sure he liked it, but he didn’t hate it. He did, however, like feeling needed and that he was making a positive impact. By repairing a fence at an orphanage? He scoffed at himself. He could do better than that.

  In London, he did what he could. He tried to look out for young boys, and while it was typically too late to dissuade them from crime, he did his best to teach them how to take care of themselves. He schooled them in ways he’d never been taught, and he hoped he made some small difference.

  Except in the instance of Oscar. He’d been a young lad, small for his age, orphaned—or so he’d said. He could easily have had parents who were either too drunk to care for him or had pushed him out because they had too many other mouths to feed. At nine, he would’ve been deemed old enough to take care of himself.

  He’d turned up in one of the flash houses and would’ve been put to work as a prostitute, or he might’ve joined up with a young theft gang. He’d tried to pick pockets, but hadn’t been very adept. Ethan could see that he was going to fail and likely end up in gaol or worse. So Ethan, who’d been relatively young at the time, just seventeen, had taken the boy out of London to a vicarage.

  Ethan had earned sufficient funds to pass himself off as a gentleman. He’d convinced the vicar that the orphaned Oscar would make an excellent groomsman or gardener or anything the vicar could train him to be. He’d then given the vicar a sum of money large enough to ensure he couldn’t say no. But as it happened, the money hadn’t been necessary. The vicar’s wife had brought them tea and upon hearing what Ethan had proposed had wept. They’d been unable to have children of their own and she saw Oscar as a gift from God. It had been the happiest day of Ethan’s life.

  Upon returning to London, however, a few of his cohorts had suspected what he’d done. It had made him look soft and weak. He’d never indulged that sort of fancy again. And now, here, amidst Fox’s kindness and benevolence, his lack of action
weighed on him.

  The sound of an approaching horse made him look up. A lone rider was coming toward him down the road that ran beside the sheep pasture. The back of Ethan’s neck tingled, but he shrugged the sensation away. It could be anyone.

  The brim of his hat shielded his eyes from the sun, but he squinted nonetheless in an effort to make out the rider. As he drew nearer, Ethan’s blood ran cold as recognition hit him. Teague.

  Ethan tensed to run, but the horse would overtake him quickly. His mind raced. He didn’t want to be dragged back to London to the noose. Unfortunately, that seemed suddenly inevitable. Unless he could take Teague down.

  Teague led his horse through the gap in the fence—the gap Ethan and Fox had been repairing—and stopped. He withdrew a pistol from his coat and pointed it at Ethan’s heart. “Finally found you.”

  Ethan fought to keep the panic at bay. His fingers clenched around the hammer. Its presence gave him a modicum of comfort. “You came an awfully long way. Most people would’ve given up. In fact, I didn’t realize the Runners even came this far out.” He was satisfied that he sounded calm, unaffected, but then he’d spent years perfecting such deceit.

  Teague slid from his horse, but kept his gun trained on Ethan. “I’d follow you to the ends of the earth. Particularly now that I have you away from your protective army, and I’ve charges to lay against you to boot.”

  “Ah yes, the charges. You’ve been working so hard to find something. The irony here is that this is one crime I am not guilty of.”

  Teague’s lip curled. “I saw you standing over Wolverton’s body with a bloody knife. It doesn’t get much more damning than that.”

  Ethan couldn’t argue that, but he hadn’t killed the marquess. “It was Gin Jimmy. You know Wolverton controlled a theft ring. He worked for Gin Jimmy, just like Aldridge did.”

  “And Wolverton ended up dead, just like Aldridge.” Teague cocked his head to the side. “You’re Gin Jimmy’s right hand. You were there. It’s logical you would carry out his bidding.”

  Logical, yes, but he hadn’t done it. Ethan gritted his teeth. “I’m guilty of a lot of things, but this isn’t one of them.”

  Teague’s dark eyes glittered in the midday sun. “Do catalog them for me so that I may increase the charges against you. Shall we start with my sister?”

  Ethan expected nothing less. “There was nothing illegal about what happened with your sister. You can’t fault me for her choices.”

  “The hell I can’t. She died because of what you did to her.”

  A stab of regret pierced Ethan’s gut. Janey Teague had been a nice girl once. Just as he’d been a decent boy. That she’d chosen a dangerous life instead of fighting for whatever opportunities her brother had found wasn’t Ethan’s fault. At fifteen, they’d been each other’s first lovers. He’d liked her, liked having someone he could be intimate with, but their relationship hadn’t lasted long. She was young, beautiful, and possessed a wealth of charm. Lured by the promise of fame and fortune, she’d left Ethan to become some man’s paramour. Years later, when she’d fallen out of favor and had found herself back in Ethan’s world, she’d tried to use their former association to gain entry into Gin Jimmy’s favorite flash house, presumably to draw Jimmy’s eye. However, she’d been turned away and months later, Ethan had heard she’d died of drink. Teague blamed him for her death since she’d told him on her deathbed that Ethan had been the one to ruin her.

  Ethan gripped the hammer and calculated whether he could use it to disarm Teague. “I was a lad and she was more than willing. And she left me—I had nothing to do with her later choices. I am sorry for her death, but if I hadn’t been her first, she would’ve found someone else.”

  “You rotten piece of filth!” Teague spat.

  “I’m not going with you,” Ethan said quietly. He tested the hammer’s weight in his hand. “I didn’t kill Wolverton. You’re going to have to fight me.”

  Teague shook his head. “Drop the hammer or I’ll put a bullet in you. That’d be a shame since I’d prefer to watch you hang. The other Runner will be here shortly. We’ll shackle you and take you into town where we’ll get a cart to transport you back to London.”

  Ethan’s blood turned to ice. The sound of hooves beating against the earth reached his ears and his stomach clenched. The other Runner.

  “As I said. Here comes Lewis.” His mouth contorted into a snarl. “Now, drop the hammer.”

  Ethan glanced at the road, but there was no horse. Then he saw it racing down the slope from the orphanage. It was sidesaddled and there was a skirt flowing against the horse’s flank. Audrey.

  Relief poured through him and he sought to distract Teague so he could gain the upper hand. He grinned toward Audrey. “It’s not Lewis.”

  Teague turned, his brow knitting. Ethan lunged forward and used the hammer to knock the pistol from Teague’s hand. The weapon fired into the air, and Teague’s horse darted off.

  Teague spun toward him as Audrey bore down on them. She ran her mount at Teague, who fell to the side before he could be trampled.

  “Ethan!” she called, bringing her horse to a halt beside him. “Get on.”

  He wanted to tell her to get off the horse so he could leave alone, but how in the hell was he going to ride a horse with a sidesaddle? He climbed up, awkwardly, behind her and she maneuvered the animal out to the road. She kicked the horse to a full run.

  He wrapped his arms around her waist and held on, grateful that she was an excellent horsewoman. Or so he thought. He really had no expertise in the matter.

  Her head was bare, her dark curls blowing against his cheeks, evidence perhaps that she’d dropped whatever she was doing and come to his rescue. While part of him thrilled at this notion, the rest of him was cold and dead. She shouldn’t be here with him. She should be back at Bassett Manor where she could be safe.

  After a short while, she slowed the horse.

  His insides twisted frantically. “Must you slow down?”

  “I can’t run Posy that hard for too long.”

  Posy? He looked up at the sky and tried to gauge their direction. Southeast of Wootton Bassett, he would guess. What was he going to do with Audrey? “You can’t come with me anymore.”

  She shook her head. “I’m not leaving you. I still have money, and you don’t. You need me.”

  He’d been alone as long as he could remember. Teague had just reminded him of that. “I don’t need anyone. And I’m fairly certain your informing that farmer the other morning that we were on our way to Wootton Bassett is how Teague found me.” She’d made a simple mistake, and if he wasn’t such a prick he wouldn’t have thrown it in her face. But he needed her to go back, and maybe if she stopped liking him, she would.

  “I’m sorry. But I’m not leaving you.” She was quiet a moment, but he sensed she wasn’t finished. “The Runner—Teague?—he followed you an awfully long way. Will you now tell me why he means to arrest you?”

  They’d come to a copse of trees, a perfect place to take cover if need be. Audrey brought Posy to a stop.

  “What are you doing?” Ethan hissed near her ear.

  “Stopping.” She turned her head to look at him. “I just saved you back there, something I’ve been doing for days now, and you still won’t tell me why Bow Street is chasing you all over England. I deserve to know the truth.”

  Ethan glared at her, hating that she’d helped him, even as he felt relief and gladness that she really should go with him now. Teague had found him, so there was a chance Gin Jimmy’s men might not be far behind. Ethan’s irritation at his lack of control over the entire situation took hold of his emotions. He slid from the horse, needing to think for a moment. “I never asked you to help me.”

  “I’m not leaving.” She followed him, albeit gracelessly, and landed against him. She clasped his arms to steady himself. He cringed as her fingers bit into his wound. She pulled her hands away. “Sorry.” Her eyes hardened. “No, I’m not sorry. And I’m
not letting you go alone.”

  The sound of approaching horses drew them both to turn. Two riders were bearing down on them, and judging from the way their pistols were pointed, they were either more Runners or worse—Gin Jimmy’s men.

  TEN

  Ethan shoved Audrey to the ground and fell on top of her. So much for her being safe out here.

  The report of a pistol sounded. Ethan braced for pain and exhaled when there was nothing. He glanced back and saw one of the men climbing down from his horse, while the other was still riding straight for them. Posy whinnied and ran off.

  Ethan rolled off Audrey and dragged her up. “Move!” He ran with her to the trees and pulled her behind a thick trunk. “Can you climb one of these?”

  She turned her head to look at him and squeezed his hand. “I’m not leaving you.”

  He leaned his head back against the rough wood. “Christ, you’re impossible. You’ll be safer up there.”

  “I can’t let you fight both of them. They have pistols.”

  “Jagger, there’s nowhere else to run,” one of the men shouted.

  Ethan peered around the trunk. A lanky fellow with his pistol cocked moved into the copse. The second one wasn’t visible. Probably reloading his pistol, if he was smart.

  Ethan slid the knife from his boot. If he’d learned anything from his years preserving himself, it was to act fast and act sure. He stepped out from behind the tree and launched his knife at the man with the pistol. The blade drove into his flesh just beneath his collarbone. He managed to fire, but the shot came nowhere near Ethan or Audrey.

  The lanky man staggered and dropped to his knees, his eyes wide. Ethan ran to him and withdrew the knife. Then he pulled the man’s head by his hair and sliced his throat with a quick flick of his wrist. He dropped the corpse to the ground and spun about before the second man could surprise him, but he hadn’t reappeared.

  Ethan moved cautiously toward where they’d stopped their horses. The animals were grazing carelessly, oblivious to the danger around them. But then they weren’t in danger.