Lord Rogue

by Tiffany Green

  Tears pooled in her eyes and she gulped in several deep breaths, trying to get past the pain in short order. Nausea pooled in her stomach and she had to sit back on the bed for several minutes until her head quit spinning.

  Quite possibly, the man went to fetch Montague. That thought had her setting her jaw and lifting herself back off the bed. She could not sit around and wait for that horrible man to find her and haul her back to the nearest candle-lit cave. Just thinking of those black robes and silver pentagrams made her shiver. Getting out of here was her only option. Even if she had to limp all the way back to London, she’d do so.

  Straightening her spine, Evie stumbled forward and found the flies buzzing around a full bowl of something she supposed passed for soup. She leaned over and sniffed the air above the food. It actually smelled pretty good and her stomach growled, urging her to try it. Beside the wooden spoon lay a hunk of bread that had been torn off the loaf and a cup filled with some dark liquid.

  Her stomach growled once again and Evie lifted the bread. She dipped a corner into the soup broth and nibbled, just to be certain it wouldn’t make her gag. Surprisingly, she found the food tastier than she imagined one little elf-man could make and ended up cleaning the bowl with a satisfied sigh. The dark liquid, an earthy, buttery tea of some sort, tasted better with each sip and she drank the entire contents in three greedy gulps.

  Setting the cup down, she wondered if she hadn’t just made a huge mistake. Then she thought better of it. The man had every opportunity to do something nefarious while she slept, and the fact he hadn’t made her feel better about eating the food he so generously left out for her. So, where was he now? Had he just wanted to keep her there longer so he could fetch Montague?

  Deciding she didn’t want to wait and find out, Evie opened the door and stepped out into the cool morning. The sun had already dispatched the mist and fog and, deciding she had dallied long enough, scuffled into the trees behind the cabin. After a minute, she slowed, glancing this way and that, wondering which direction to go. Then she noticed the lichen growing on an oak that split in two branches midway up the tree. The thicker branch on the left leaned over while the branch on the right shot straight up in the air. She’d once read about lichen and how it tended to grow on the south side of trees. With a smile, she decided to use that bit of information as her guide.

  After limping forward for several minutes, she heard a large animal thrashing through shrubs and over sticks and leaves behind her. Evie whirled around, her hand splayed across her chest, and leaned back against a tree. She took several deep breaths and shook her head. “You gave me a fright.”

  The little man scowled down at her from his perch on a donkey’s back. “Well, you shouldn’t have run off, miss.”

  With a nod, she glanced behind him, half expecting to find Montague there. Instead, she found the man alone and smiled up at him. “I am sorry for leaving. Your soup was delicious, by the way.”

  His scowl lifted long enough to be pleased by the compliment, then he heaved a sigh. “We better leave.” He slid to the ground. “Let me help you climb up old Dorothea, here.” He patted the side of the animal, who twitched her long ear in return.

  It certainly would help her ankle, Evie decided, then allowed the man to assist her up with a strength that surprised her. He held on to the rein and began in the same direction she had been traveling, she noticed with a spurt of pride.

  Glancing down to the flat wool cap on his head, she asked, “May I know your name, sir? Or do you just prefer, ‘sir’?”

  “Name’s Tully. Grover Tully,” he added over his shoulder.

  She swatted a pesky gnat buzzing her ear. “Very nice to meet you, Mr. Tully, and I appreciate your assistance.”

  They plodded through the forest for about an hour until Evie decided she needed to visit a large bush. Looking none too happy, Mr. Tully helped her down and she hobbled behind the thick screen of greenery beyond the wide yule tree to relieve herself. Just as she finished and was about to step out from behind the bush, she heard a familiar voice and froze in place.

  “You there. Have you seen a dark haired young woman come through this area?” Montague asked.

  Evie’s hand went to her throat and she held her breath to hear the answer.

  “I haven’t seen anyone.”

  She let her breath out slowly, now certain Mr. Tully was not in league with Lord Montague. How she wished she could see what was happening beyond the bush, but she dared not move and expose herself.

  “Who are you looking for?” Mr. Tully asked.

  Evie’s ankle throbbed and she longed to find a comfortable place to sit, even a tree to lean against. She glanced to her makeshift cane leaning against an oak several feet away and frowned. Too far away, she decided. She’d make too much noise hobbling over to retrieve it.

  “My, er, daughter. She’s lost,” Montague said.

  “Terrible, just terrible. Many years ago, I had a wee niece who went missing near Chester. Just seven years old she was. Took a fortnight to find her, but we were too late. Well, I wish you gentlemen luck in finding…” Mr. Tully’s voice trailed away. “What did you say her name was?”

  “I didn’t give her name, but it’s Evie if you must know, and I am providing a reward for anyone who brings her back to Spencer House.”

  There was a long pause before Mr. Tully asked, “How much reward are you asking?”

  Evie swallowed hard. Perhaps the little man could be persuaded with money to give her location. She glanced around, wondering what to do, where to try and escape.

  “One hundred pounds,” Montague replied, deepening Evie’s frown. That was a handsome sum for someone of Mr. Tully’s station. “I must warn you,” Montague continued, “she may not come willingly. We had a disagreement and she left upset. Evie might even make up some horrendous story. She has been known to do that in the past.”

  Oh, things were looking worse for her. It Lord Montague could persuade Mr. Tully to believe such tripe, she would not make it out of these woods alive. She glanced over to her cane, about to dash over for it when Mr. Tully spoke.

  “Wish I could help you gentlemen. A hundred pounds.” He whistled softly through his teeth. “That is a fortune. But I haven’t seen anyone other than the two of you today.”

  Evie closed her eyes, briefly, and said a quick prayer of thanks.

  “Well, if you do happen to see her, tell her I will find her and bring her back.”

  “I will tell her if I happen to see her,” Mr. Tully agreed.

  Even after Lord Montague and his companion loped off, Evie remained behind the wall of greenery for another minute. She wanted to be certain they were gone before peeking around the bush. Mr. Tully nodded and motioned for her to come out.

  “They have left, miss, so you can come out.”

  Gathering her cane, she limped back to the little man. “I must admit, good sir, I feared you’d accept Lord Montague’s hundred pounds.” She grinned over at him. “But I am most relieved to see you did not.”

  Instead of looking happy, Mr. Tully scowled. “I thought you said your name was Alice Penny-something.”

  “Pennymaker,” she corrected, digging her thumbnail into the top of the cane. “She is actually my maid.”

  His dark eyes narrowed. “So, you are this Evie that Lord Montague is searching for?”

  Her mouth went dry, wondering how she should answer. Would he call out for Lord Montague? Were the men close enough to hear? Perhaps she should make up another lie. Or maybe this time, she should just tell him the truth. With her shoulders aching from so much tension and her ankle pulsating in pain, Evie settled herself on the trunk of a felled tree with an inward moan. “My name is Evie, but I am not that man’s daughter. Lord Montague wishes to sacrifice me in some satanic ritual.” She shook her head. “I know that sounds odd. I can hardly believe it myself. But it is the truth. He and his followers wear black hooded robes and large silver pentagrams.” She closed her eyes, seeing the
candle-lit cave and all those terrible men inside. “I am hoping to expose the man for what he almost did to me and to keep him from trying again.”

  Evie glanced back at Mr. Tully who continued to stare down hard at her. She prayed he would believe her and crossed her arms over her suddenly chilled body. “If you will just take me back home, you will see I am speaking the truth. I will pay you two hundred pounds for your trouble,” she added, hoping to sweeten the pot.

  The man leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Does Falcon mean anything to you?”

  Evie gasped, then could only stare at him for several seconds. “Where did you hear that?”

  He nodded and relaxed, even gave her a gape-toothed smile. “Thought so. Elder gave me orders to find and follow Montague, then send a message with a location. Problem was, the man kept moving. I had just tracked him to that house,” he said and nodded toward the north, “when you showed up.”

  When she could finally find her voice, she asked, “Who are you?”

  His smile widened. “Scout.”

  Of course. She grinned up to him. “I thought you’d be—”

  “Taller?”

  “Younger,” she said with a laugh, then remembered what he told Montague about his niece. “So, the story about your niece was true, then?”

  He patted Dorothea’s side and nodded. “Little Mary would have come home if we had found her sooner. That was when I decided to learn how to track, and Elder found me. He brought from the Colonies two of the best Yamacraw trackers who agreed to train me. Three years later, my brothers returned home and I could track as well as they could.” He smiled over at her. “That was thirty years ago.”

  Evie leaned over and gently rubbed her swollen, throbbing ankle. It felt hot to the touch. “Why didn’t you tell me who you were sooner?” she asked, adjusting the strips of sheet she had tied around her ankle for support.

  “Because I thought you were a maid named Alice.” Then he chuckled and shook his head. “I actually thought for a minute you were working for Montague and had set a trap for me.”

  She finished tying the knot and looked up. “You did?”

  “Yes. Until the man called you ‘Evie’ and then I knew the truth,” he said with a shrug. Then he held out his hand. “Are you ready to go back…” He stopped speaking and held up his finger to his lips for her to be silent, then he cocked his head and listened to something over to their right.

  Praying it wasn’t Montague returning, Evie listened as well. She heard nothing but the treetops swaying in the breeze and the distant call of a raven. Then she heard a horse snorting out a breath and froze.

  Scout mouthed ‘stay here and be quiet,’ then turned and headed into the trees without making one sound. Evie kept her eyes on the very spot he disappeared, between two ash trees, and picked the bark off her cane. She wondered what she should do if someone other than Scout returned. What if Montague came back?

  She had just decided to try and crawl on Dorothea’s back when she heard the sounds of horses moving quickly through the trees, from the same direction Scout had gone. Holding her breath, she watched the shadows of the branches and leaves swing and sway on the ground and gripped tight to the cane. Perhaps Montague had hurt Scout and now came for her. What if he had caught sight of her through the bush, or perhaps a part of her dress had been visible?

  The thrashing got louder, then a white stockinged horse leg appeared between the two ash trees. Evie held her breath, rising slowly to her feet, ignoring the pain in her ankle. Then the other horse leg appeared and Evie held up the cane, ready to bash Montague’s head in.

  But it wasn’t Montague who appeared on top of Prinny, pulling the reins. And as he slid to the ground and rushed up to her, Evie wasn’t at all sure what she would do with the cane.

  Chapter 26

  Every feeling Jeremy had for Evie surfaced as soon as he saw her standing there, welding a stick high above her head, ready to strike. He had never been so terrified of losing someone before, and to see her standing before him now had an overpowering effect. It rendered him speechless for several heartbeats. Long enough to realize she’d had plenty of time to recognize him and lower that stick. She hadn’t. His lips twitched.

  Jeremy crossed his arms. How he wanted to pull her to him and kiss her senseless, but resisted. Instead, he quirked a brow and said, “You can lower that stick in your hands, pet.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “I am not at all sure I want to.”

  He took a step forward and halted when she raised the stick even higher. Then he sighed. “I suppose you are still cross with me.”

  A tinge of pink appeared across her pale cheeks. “I am much more than merely cross with you, Jeremy.” Her chin trembled, then she shook her head, as if shaking off the moment of weakness. “You have used me and deceived me. What you have done to me…” She shook her head again. “Is positively cruel. And you don’t seem to care at all.”

  He unfurled his arms and stepped right up to her. If she was going to bash him over the head, then so be it. “You could not be further from the truth, Evie,” he whispered down to her. Then he reached out and pulled the stick away from her tight grip and threw it aside. He snaked his arms around her trembling shoulders and leaned down so he could look her straight in the eye. “The truth is I married you because—”

  Scout rushed through the trees and took two quick breaths before speaking. “Montague is coming.”

  Jeremy glanced back down to Evie and took her hand. “Come, we must—”

  She cried out and went crashing to her knees, her hand torn from his. “My ankle,” she moaned. “Just go. I will be fine.”

  The hell if he would leave her behind. Jeremy reached down and scooped her up into his arms, then turned to Scout. “You and Ghost go get help.”

  The little man didn’t argue, just nodded and disappeared back into the trees. And as Jeremy took a step forward, four men—one of them Montague—appeared on horses, each holding pistols aimed right at them. Evie pressed her head into his shoulder. “You should have left me.”

  “Never,” he whispered and turned to Montague. “I suggest, my lord, you lower that weapon and let us pass.”

  The man glared down with an evil gleam in his eyes, the corner of his lips twisted in a cruel smile. “Lord Fielding. I am afraid you are in no position to suggest anything at all.” He waved his pistol. “Hand the lady to my man, Lars, and we will be on our way.”

  Jeremy tightened his grip on his wife and shook his head. “I will do no such thing.”

  Montague snapped his thick dark brows together. “Then I will shoot you and take the lady. Either way, she is coming with me.”

  “Do as he says, Jeremy,” Evie whispered, gripping his coat in her fist.

  He leaned down. “Hush, pet.” Then he raised his head. “I do not think Viper would be happy if you shot his nephew.”

  Ignoring the jolt of surprise from Evie, Jeremy glared at each of the men before glancing back to Montague. The others turned to one another in confusion, wondering if he spoke the truth. Jeremy nodded. “Frederick Spencer and my father were brothers. I suggest you go and speak to him about this grand plan. See what he has to say.”

  As suspected, two of the men lowered their pistols, then backed their horses away.

  Enraged, Montague shouted at the retreating men. “I will see both of you dead for this.”

  Jeremy glanced over to Lars whose deep frown and perplexed stare showed the man trying to work out what he should do. Montague also took note of the man’s indecision. “You lower that pistol, Lars, and I will shoot you myself.”

  “But he is his nephew,” Lars whispered, his pistol now shaking in his hand, a bloody bandage covering his missing little finger.

  “That man hasn’t been our leader in a long time. I have,” Montague growled.

  Jeremy took a quick step back during Montague’s tirade. When no one seemed to notice, he moved back another step. If he could just make it to the thick oak behind
him, he’d spin around and make a run for it.

  Unfortunately, Montague noticed. He quit glaring at Lars and leveled the pistol back on Jeremy. “Not another step, my lord.” He lifted a corner of his top lip and sneered. “At this distance, my aim is unpredictable and could wound the lady.”

  Jeremy held Evie even closer to his chest, hoping his arms would cover more of her. Montague had a wild look in his eyes, as though he could pull the trigger at any moment. Then the man reached into his coat and pulled out a second pistol. “So, I took precautions to guarantee I would not miss.”

  One pistol, he could possibly deal with. Not two. Not when Evie could get harmed. Jeremy’s mind raced with options. If he spun around, he might not be fast enough. He couldn’t just back away, either. The only thing left was to convince Montague to let Evie go. “Why don’t you allow me to place Evie on my horse, then we can discuss matters as gentlemen?”

  “No.” Montague narrowed his eyes. “You both will remain where you are.”

  Jeremy hoped Scout had alerted Ghost by now. Perhaps the two of them had formed a plan. He needed to keep Montague talking, to give his friends more time. “Are you going to ask about Phyllis?” He could feel his face go tight with anger, just thinking about what his sister had suffered. “Or do you even care?”

  Clearly, Montague had not been expecting the question. His brows shot up to his hairline and the pistols dropped down two inches. “What about her?”

  Jeremy shifted his weight to his other leg, but held on tightly to Evie. “Surely, when you were in London you heard about her condition.”

  “What condition?” the man asked, raising the pistols as he took two steps forward. “You are obviously playing some sort of game, Fielding, and I do not like it.”

  Knowing he was taking a risk at angering Montague even further, Jeremy continued. He had to give Ghost and Scout more time. “Because you haven’t even bothered to send my sister a note, she thinks something terrible has happened to you. She has worried herself ill. So ill, in fact, she may lose the babe.”