Selkirk’s choice of conveyance left much to be desired, although she supposed most people would find little fault. At present though she was in no humor to be generous, finding fault with everything he said or did.
Narrowing her eyes, she sent him a black stare where he slept on in his own corner. She crossed her arms and added poorly sprung coach to the ever-increasing list of his crimes.
Still, she refused to complain. First, because it was beneath her dignity. Second, because she knew it would do her no good whatsoever.
As the minutes wore on, though, her stomach began to ache with a gnawing hunger that increased her discomfort tenfold. She was on the verge of breaking her resolve and protesting his insensitive treatment, when he finally roused from his slumber and rapped on the roof, ordering the driver to stop at the next inn.
She nearly wept with relief when he helped her out of the coach, her legs and back stiff from having been bent inside the vehicle for so long.
She let none of her emotions show, however, concentrating on maintaining an expression of calm disdain, even boredom. Inwardly, she might be exhausted, hungry, aching, angry, and even a little scared, but she would never reveal such weaknesses to a man of his stamp.
He tried to make polite conversation after they repaired to a private parlor, but soon ceased his efforts when she refused to reply. With a smirk of wry amusement on his face, he ordered a meal for the two of them, then leaned back in his chair, apparently content to sip a glass of wine and gaze out the window at the inn yard below.
Without meaning to, she found herself doing the same, watching the hostlers scurry to and fro, tending to the horses and coaches that disgorged the arriving passengers, then the departing ones as they packed back up and were driven away. The yard stayed busy as a beehive, people and animals and vehicles performing a bustling dance that never seemed to slow.
Once the food arrived, however, Ariadne forgot all about the rush of humanity below, concentrating instead on the helping of chicken pie and buttered peas that had been set before her.
The fare was far from what she usually ate, but it was surprisingly good, and her spirits lifted fractionally with each bite.
When the serving maid returned to clear away their empty plates, Selkirk downed the last of his wine, refusing her offer of dessert.
“No time, I’m afraid,” he told the girl. “We need to be back on the road again.”
“Surely we can take a few minutes more,” Ariadne said. Anything but returning to that dreadful coach and the trip that brought her ever closer to a destination she had no desire to reach.
“Some cheese and fruit perhaps,” she told the servant. “His lordship may not wish to have a sweet, but I cannot say the same.”
Selkirk arched a dark brow. “Have something boxed for the lady. She can eat her dessert once we resume our journey.”
After casting a glance between the two of them, the girl bobbed a curtsy, then scurried off to do as Selkirk had ordered.
Ariadne turned to him once the serving maid had gone. “Might I at least have a few minutes’ privacy so that I may avail myself of the necessary?”
He studied her briefly, then nodded. “Of course, Your Highness. We have more long miles ahead of us today. I wish only for your comfort.”
Hah! He’s missed the mark on that one, she mused sourly. Then again, what could she expect of a man who would kidnap a woman so he could marry her and steal her inheritance?
As she made to leave, shouts and a great flood of voices sounded from the inn yard below. A glance showed that the mail coach had arrived, a knot of passengers disembarking from the heavily laden vehicle.
She still remembered Mercedes’s tales of her brief adventures traveling by public conveyance. Apparently, the coach would stop long enough to deliver and collect the mail, unload baggage of those disembarking, and load any new passengers and their belongings. During the stop, travelers had only a few minutes to stretch their legs and eat a quick bite of food. The coaches stuck to a very strict timetable, arriving and departing without concern should anyone go astray.
She tapped a finger against her lips, her mind spinning with sudden possibilities.
Without another word, she made her way to the door and out into the hallway leading to the stairs.
Selkirk followed.
In the main entry, she turned to seek out the ladies’ facilities. Selkirk continued walking behind her.
She stopped and rounded on him. “Your pardon, my lord, but where do you think you are going?”
“I shall accompany you.”
She glowered, wondering how to rid herself of him for a few necessary minutes. “I think not. You may be forcing me to travel with you, but that does not give you leave to invade every aspect of my personal privacy. I shall rejoin you shortly.”
“I prefer to keep you within my sights.”
“And I prefer not to be spied upon.” She crossed her arms. “Where would I go anyway? I have no coin and no means of transportation. You would notice that I was missing before I managed to get five feet away.”
Lines creased his forehead as he considered what she’d said. “Very well, but one of the maids can accompany you. After that, you have ten minutes. Do not even think about trying to deceive me or I shall make you very sorry indeed.”
“Of course,” she agreed, deciding she wouldn’t think about the sorts of retribution he might have in mind should she fail.
She did her best to look accepting, as if fully resigned to her present captive situation. But her mind was racing, weighing the risks and advantages of a dozen different scenarios.
The maid, of course, was a complication, but she would think of something. She had to, since she feared this might be her last and only chance to escape. They would reach Scotland in another day; she couldn’t afford to wait for a better opportunity—assuming there would even be one.
The servant arrived, the girl listening obligingly as Selkirk issued his instructions.
“Ten minutes,” he repeated before letting her continue on her way.
“The ladies’ is just down here,” the girl informed her, chatting pleasantly as they threaded their way through the patrons that crowded into the taproom and toward the back of the building.
A small room had been set aside for guests of quality who did not wish to use the common conveniences outside. Ariadne shut herself inside, wondering how much time remained before the coachman blew the horn to signal the departure of the mail coach. She couldn’t afford to time matters incorrectly. If she went too soon, Selkirk would figure out her plan and have her back in his clutches before she could say boo. If she waited too long, the mail coach would depart and her chance of escape along with it.
Then, too, there was still the maid waiting for her just on the other side of the door.
She poured water into a small basin provided for that use and washed her hands, wanting to give at least the illusion that she was taking care of her personal needs. Hands dry again, she unlatched the door.
“All ready, your ladyship?” the girl piped.
Ariadne decided not to correct her error. “Yes, I am.” She took a couple of steps into the hall, then stopped abruptly. “Oh, I just realized.”
“What, ma’am?”
“Heavens, I forgot my fan upstairs in the parlor. Would you be a dear and run and fetch it for me?”
The girl frowned. “But his lordship said I weren’t ter let ye out o’ me sight.”
“I know, but I do not want to be late returning to the coach and if we both go back upstairs, I fear I shall be. He’ll be cross, wondering where I am. I don’t like to make him cross.” She met the young woman’s gaze, her own eyes pleading for understanding. “Please. If you’re quick, he’ll never know.”
The girl hesitated a few seconds more. “Ye go out ter the front and wait by the door. I’ll be back in a tick.”
And just like that, she was gone.
So was Ariadne.
The mome
nt the girl was out of sight, she spun on her heel and raced for a nearby door that she prayed led outside. She planned to dash out and onto the mail coach at the very last instant and hope Selkirk didn’t see her board. As for the fare, she would worry about that once she was under way. Surely, despite what she’d told Selkirk, she could convince the coachman or one of the passengers to help her. She had jewels. She couldn’t believe there wouldn’t be at least one person willing to make a lucrative trade.
She hurried around the side of the building, careful to avoid any patches of muddy grass. Her slippers weren’t meant for travel and were nearing ruin as it was. Selkirk hadn’t thought to bring her a change of attire—another black mark for him—and she was still wearing the ball gown she’d had on the night of her abduction. Indeed, she had received odd looks at a few of the inns where they’d stopped, but no one had asked if she needed help, including the maid she’d just sent upstairs. No, getting free of Selkirk was up to her, and so she needed to make this opportunity count.
Luckily, the inn’s side yard was narrow and not much used, so she remained unnoticed. She slowed as she reached the front of the building, pressing herself close to the edge so she could peer around.
No sign of Selkirk, which was a relief. She needed a clear path to the coach, but it also left her wondering where he might be. Did he realize she had slipped the leash of her temporary jailer? Was he searching for her already?
Fear crawled in her belly, her heart thundering beneath her ribs. She stuck her hand in her pocket and curled her fingers around the fork she carried. It might not be much of a weapon, but at least it gave her an extra measure of courage.
As she watched, a few of the passengers she’d seen earlier began exiting the inn and climbing back into the coach. She scanned the inn yard, searching for some sign of Selkirk.
Moments later, the driver raised a hand to give some kind of signal, then went to slam shut the coach doors.
This was it.
Her chance.
Taking a deep breath, she left her place of concealment and ran as fast as her legs could carry her toward the coach.
The coachman was just closing the second door when she reached him. He looked up, startled.
“I am here and wish to board,” she stated, a strained quaver in her voice. She darted a glance behind her, wondering again how close Selkirk might be. To her relief, she did not see him.
“We’re just about to get under way, miss.” He raked his gaze over her obviously fine attire. “This is the mail coach, ye know.”
“I am aware of that fact and wish passage.”
“We’re full. There’s only one spot left on the roof.”
The roof?
She forced herself not to look horrified. “Any seat is acceptable. Now, please allow me to board.”
“Have ye paid yer fare?”
She considered lying, since there was no time to waste. But the man would find out if she’d indeed paid her way and she had no desire to be tossed back off. “No, but I will as soon as we get under way.”
He shook his head. “Sorry, but no one rides without paying. Why don’t ye wait for the next coach? I’ve got to get going. We’ve a schedule to keep.”
“Please,” she pleaded. “You must allow me to travel with you. I am in grave peril and must leave here immediately. You can have this brooch.” She pointed to the elegantly set cluster of diamonds and rubies pinned to her bodice. “It is worth far more than the fare.”
He eyed the jewelry. “Is it real?”
“Of course it is real,” she said indignantly. “Will you take it or not?”
“Well, it’s not the usual thing, but all right.”
She reached up and began to unfasten the brooch. She was just about to slide it free, when a hand clamped around her wrist.
No! she screamed in her head.
“Pin that back on, my dear,” intoned Selkirk in a smooth voice. “There’s no need for you to barter your jewels or to ride in this vehicle.” From the corner of her eye, she saw him turn to address the coachman. “My wife and I had a small disagreement, you understand. She and I will work matters out between us as a married couple should.”
“He is not my husband!”
The driver and everyone in the coach stared at them.
But Selkirk merely smiled with supposed understanding. “Now, dear, you’re confused again, aren’t you?” He looked over at the coachman and spoke in a lowered tone as if sharing a confidence. “She suffers from bouts of memory loss, forgets things from time to time, such as our marriage. It’s the result of an unfortunate accident. I’m taking her home to the country, where we hope she will continue to heal.”
“He’s lying,” she protested. “He abducted me and is forcing me to travel with him to Scotland. He wants to marry me so he can steal my fortune.”
“As I’ve said, she’s confused.” Selkirk offered another smile, this one sadly resigned.
To her horror, Ariadne watched the expressions change on the faces of the coachman and the passengers, watched their interest turn to pity for her and belief in him.
“No! He only wants you to think that so you won’t help me. He’s lying. He’s a fortune hunter. He drugged me at a ball in London two nights ago and kidnapped me. That’s why I’m dressed the way I am. Please, all of you, you must believe me.”
Doubt returned to a couple of faces, but she could see it was useless now. No one was going to get involved. No one was going to help her.
The coachman looked between them, his expression severe. “Maybe you should take this up with the constable. Meanwhile, I’ve got a route to drive and I’m late. Sorry, missus . . . miss . . . whatever you may be.”
“No, don’t leave,” she pleaded.
But he was already climbing onto the box and taking up the reins. Still caught in Selkirk’s grip, she watched the mail coach drive away.
A small audience of hostlers and onlookers had gathered in the inn yard, having clearly been privy to the scene. She considered throwing herself on their mercy, but she knew there would be none to be had from them either.
Furious, she struggled to free herself from Selkirk’s grip. “Let me go.”
“I don’t think so,” he said in a low, harsh voice meant for her ears alone. “You’ve caused me enough trouble today as it is. Come along. We’re late leaving too.”
Tightening his grip even more, he began dragging her toward his coach.
But she dug her feet into the ground, struggling against his hold. She wasn’t going with him. She refused. No matter what, she wasn’t going to go quietly or without a fight.
Not even conscious of what she was about to do, she reached into her pocket and drew out the fork. Then, as hard as she could, she stabbed the tines into the top of his hand.
He yelled in pain and reared back, releasing his hold on her. “Damn and blast! What in Hades’ name did you do that for?”
And she was running, to where she had no idea. All she could think was to get away, however she might manage, as fast as she was able.
She heard a commotion behind her, a rush of voices, and the pounding of a pair of booted male feet. She ran harder, her satin-covered feet slipping on the earth. Suddenly a hand closed around her arm and pulled her to a halt.
No! He was too fast. How had he caught up to her already?
She spun, fighting and struggling as she did, her other arm raised to defend herself. But as she moved to strike, she caught sight not of her dark nemesis but of a golden-haired angel instead.
She faltered, unable to believe what, or rather who, she was seeing.
It couldn’t be.
Rupert.
He’s found me.
He pulled her close, cradling her against his strong chest. “I’m here, Ariadne. You’re safe.”
And in that moment she knew she truly was.
Chapter Nineteen
As evening approached, Ariadne dozed, warm and comfortable inside the circle of Rupert’s arms, h
is broad shoulder making a remarkably excellent pillow.
She was traveling by coach once again, but this time she didn’t mind. The interior was luxuriously appointed, the ride smooth and seamless as the vehicle moved south along the highway with a quiet shush of the wheels and an occasional clip-clop of horses’ hooves.
What a difference a few hours made.
To think that only this morning she had sat anxious and miserable inside Selkirk’s coach, wondering how she could possibly extricate herself from his clutches.
Her escape attempt at the inn, such as it was, had proved a dismal failure. If not for Rupert’s timely arrival, she would still be under Selkirk’s control, riding in his wretched coach, with Scotland and an unwanted wedding just over the horizon.
At least she’d had the satisfaction of stabbing him with her stolen fork. Ordinarily she didn’t hold with physical violence, but after everything he’d put her through, she thought he rather deserved a bit of misery.
Of course, she was sure he was currently suffering a great deal more misery, considering the punishment he’d received at Rupert’s hands.
Once Rupert had determined that she was unharmed, he’d set her safely aside. Then he’d turned on Selkirk, literally chasing him down as the other man tried to climb into his carriage and escape. Rupert’s fury was truly frightening to behold as he grabbed Selkirk and laid into him with vicious intent.
Selkirk—no weakling himself when it came to physical confrontations—did his best to defend himself. Well known for his boxing prowess, he landed a few brutal blows of his own to Rupert’s stomach and jaw as the two men circled each other.
But Selkirk’s efforts seemed only to inflame Rupert all the more as he rained blow after blow down upon the other man.
For a horrifying minute, she’d feared Rupert might kill Selkirk, but abruptly he’d regained possession of himself and stopped the attack. With a line of blood trickling from his lip, he let the other man collapse to the ground in a groaning heap.
The Trouble With Princesses Page 17
