Lady Thorn

by Catherine Archer

  Once more Victoria moved to the rumpled bed. Carefully she examined the bed linens again. They were just as thin as she had first thought.

  Going to the window, she looked out into the dark night, realizing that if some other avenue did not present itself she would be forced to try it. Falling to her death might indeed be preferable to marrying Reginald Cox.

  Opening the pane with difficulty, she studied her surroundings. The inn had surely been built in the time of Elizabeth, for it was of that style of construction. There were no gables or trellises or awnings to aid her in climbing.

  Despondency flooded her as she stood there, sobbing a prayer to the night that somehow deliverance would come. She forced the window closed, as the mist that was gathering was unpleasantly damp.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Jed was near to dropping with exhaustion when he arrived at Briarwood. Only one night had he stopped to rest, and precious little sleep had he gotten even then. He could think of nothing besides Victoria and the fact that she had not gone to London, but had returned to Briarwood. What it meant, he was too tired and confused to understand. He could only ride.

  One of the footmen, Charles, answered the door. He first drew back in shock, then threw up his arms in open joy at seeing him. “Oh, Mr. McBride, we’re so glad to see you. Lady Victoria’s horse came back without her this morning. No one’s been able to find her, though we’ve combed the woods, and are still doing so.”

  Jed grabbed the poor man by the lapels. “Good Lord, what are you saying?”

  “It’s the lady, sir. She’s gone. Without a trace.”

  Jed released him, running his hands over his face as he tried desperately to think.

  Then it came to him with a certainty that left him weak. “Reginald Cox. But where has he taken her?”

  “Where would he take her but to Scotland, and Gretna Green?” Charles spoke up.

  Pulling himself together, Jed faced the servant. “I’ll need a fresh horse, some water. And tell Mrs. Everard that I will require some food, something I can take with me and eat as I ride.”

  When the servant had left to do what he’d been told, Jed went up to his former room, and on impulse changed into his seafaring garb. The garments were loose, and would offer freer movement when he throttled Reginald Cox.

  He also washed thoroughly, wanting to be as fresh for this new journey as he could be. He had to stay alert and strong to be of any use to Victoria when he found her.

  From the back of Jed’s mind came a determined voice that told him he would find the strength to choke the life from Reginald Cox if he was half-dead. He could not doubt the truth of it.

  In no time, he was back on the road, the few servants who were not out searching the woods for their lady calling out to him their encouragement and their faith in him. In spite of his anxiety and fatigue, he couldn’t help being touched by their belief in him.

  Never had he felt more of a sense of belonging than at Briarwood. The people’s trust in him only made him all the more resolved to get to Victoria before it was too late.

  Having asked about the most direct route to Scotland, Jed followed that road. He did not think Reginald was clever enough to employ any complicated strategy in order to foil a possible rescue attempt. He would want to get Victoria to Gretna Green, and safely wed, as speedily as he could.

  Leaning low over the horse’s back, Jed urged him to a gallop. He would get there in time!

  What remained of the daylight hours passed in a blur for Jed. He would not allow himself to think about anything besides staying in the saddle and on the road. He ate the meat-and-cheese sandwiches Mrs. Everard had made for him without even slowing. Only when the horse lagged with thirst did he stop for a moment at a stream to let him drink.

  It was sometime after darkness had fallen that Jed came to an inn along the side of the road. It was a run-down structure, with a crooked sign that swayed in the breeze that blew in from the Irish Sea. In the light from the lantern that hung over the door, he could see that a silvery fog had settled over the scene.

  Jed slowed his horse. He had not seen any other habitation for some time, and wondered how long it might be before he did again. Should he trade horses here, so that he could continue on a fresh one?

  Victoria became very still when she saw a horse and rider come to a halt outside the inn. Even in the darkness, there was something familiar about the man, his erect carriage, the way he held the reins in obviously capable hands. Then as he moved forward, into the lanternlight, she gasped aloud.

  Jedidiah. She did not know how or why he was here. She knew only that he was the answer to her prayers, not just for her immediate safety, but for her happiness.

  As he hesitated, she fumbled with the window. It stuck. Frantically she began to pound on the glass, calling his name. Jedidiah did not seem to hear her, for he turned his horse toward the road once more.

  With no consideration for any possible injury she might sustain, she hit the window with her fist, putting all her strength behind it. The glass shattered, raining down from the casement, even as she screamed his name in desperation. “Jedidiah! Jedidiah, I am here!”

  As he looked up, she cried out again, even louder, waving her arms. “Jedidiah!” Now Victoria heard the sounds of shouting from outside her door.

  Reginald and Lloyd.

  When they began pounding and banging at the door in an effort to get inside, “Victoria realized they were no longer concerned about waking the landlord. She looked back out the window and saw Jedidiah running toward the inn.

  At the same time, the wardrobe began to slide, albeit slowly, as the door was forced open. She ran across the room, pushing with all her might, hoping to buy a bit more time. But she could not hold the two men.

  In a matter of moments, Reginald was grabbing her roughly by the arm. “Come with me,” he growled, and half dragged her out into the hallway as she fought to resist him.

  Other people, in various states of undress, had come to see what was going on. The innkeeper ran down the hall toward him, pushing the others aside. “Just what is going on here?” he bellowed, in a surprisingly strong baritone for such a small man. “You’ll be paying for any damage done to my property.”

  Reginald ignored him, simply tossing a handful of coins on the floor. “Get the hack!” he shouted to Lloyd, then followed behind him, his progress being delayed by the fact that he had to half carry the reluctant Victoria.

  As Lloyd cried out in pain and surprise from ahead of them on the narrow stairs leading to the lower floor, Reginald turned to drag her back in the direction from which they had come. Desperately he addressed the innkeeper, who was busily gathering up the money. “Is there a back door?”

  The man pointed to a door just to their left. “’Tis for the housemaids.”

  Not having the least care for why it was there, Reginald smiled in satisfaction and pulled Victoria after him. The doorway lead to an extremely narrow set of winding stairs. There was barely room for one of them to traverse the stairs at a time. Reginald had to force her down in front of him.

  Victoria continued to fight him with every step, and he finally ended in picking her up and holding her against him with his arms about her waist.

  When she heard a loud voice shout, “Victoria!” from above, her heart soared. “I’m here!” she screamed. “I’m here!”

  Cox let out a growl of anger. “Shut up!” His hand contacted painfully with the side of her head. The world spun for a moment, then righted itself.

  They came to a door. With his hands full, Cox obviously felt no compunctions about using her as a battering ram, for he shoved her against the portal, putting all his weight behind the effort. She grunted, as the door swung open.

  Instead of continuing to run, as she had expected, Reginald dropped her and spun around, reaching into his pocket at the same time.

  The gun.

  There was no time to shout a warning as Jedidiah sprang through the opening. In spite of th
e fact that his green eyes were hard with rage, his lips twisted with bitter determination, she had never seen a more welcome or beloved sight. He was like the Archangel Michael, tall, powerful, glowing with righteous rage and undeniably handsome, come down from heaven to save her. His lethal gaze came to rest on Reginald with pleasure. The gun in the madman’s hand seemed not to faze him in the least.

  Reginald Cox indicated his pistol. “I’ve hoped for this moment,” he said with bravado, though “Victoria could hear the fear he fought to disguise.

  Showing absolutely no hesitation, Jedidiah growled, coming toward him, even as Victoria watched the coward raise his gun. Without pausing to think, Victoria threw herself against her abductor.

  Reginald fell, and she with him. The gun discharged, and her heart stopped as she tried to right herself. When she sat up, she saw that Jedidiah was pulling Reginald up by both arms. The small man was shouting in hatred, even as he struggled to free himself. Jedidiah hit him squarely in the face with his fist, then hit him again, even as blood burst forth from his nose. He continued to hit Reginald until he went limp in his hands.

  Jedidiah let the other man fall to the floor. He then stood panting, his whole body shaking with the force of his emotions.

  Only when Victoria put her hand on his arm did he turn to face her. A soft cry escaped her when she noted the trickle of blood that ran down her beloved’s arm. “You’re hurt!” She reached toward him.

  “It’s nothing to worry about. The bullet just grazed me,” he told her impatiently. His green eyes studied her carefully. “It’s you I’m worried about. Are you all right? They didn’t harm you?”

  She shook her head. “Only my pride.”

  At that, he pulled her into his arms, and she went joyously. “I was so frightened for you,” he whispered, holding her head against him, his warm breath in her hair.

  “You came for me,” she whispered, her voice husky with emotion.

  His arms tightened around her. “I couldn’t leave. I had to see you again, but when I went to the house in London you weren’t there. I went immediately to Briarwood, and they told me you were gone.” He paused for a moment as he relived the pain of that moment. “I knew it had to be Cox. It was the footman Charles who realized where he had taken you.”

  She held him with all her strength. “Oh, Jedidiah, I am so glad.”

  “Hold up there.” They looked up when the innkeeper’s voice interrupted them. He stood in the open doorway, glaring at them, for a moment, then came forward into the room, which Victoria now saw was the kitchen of the inn. “What is going on here?”

  Jedidiah stepped back from Victoria, but did not release his hold on her. “This man has kidnapped Lady Victoria Thorn. You will send for the authorities.” When the man hesitated, Jed took a step toward him. “Now, or I will know the reason why.”

  The innkeeper’s demeanor changed with magical speed. “Aye, my lord, as you wish.” He hurried over to drag the still-unconscious Reginald to the door. “I’ll just take him out into the common room, where he can be watched until the law comes.”

  Jed nodded. “That is a very good idea. Do the same with his friend.”

  “Aye, my lord.” He exited with Reginald. Victoria felt not the least compunction about Jedidiah’s directive to call the authorities. Reginald deserved no more consideration than he had shown her.

  She turned and smiled up at Jedidiah, who pulled her close against him once more. “I’m afraid we will have to spend the night here,” he said. “I’m too damned tired to go any farther tonight.”

  She rested against him happily. “I have no fear that anyone else will trouble us. You have shown them what will happen to them if they do.” Her eyes darkened, her gaze rising to his mouth. “Let us go to the innkeeper and take a room.”

  Jed looked down at her, more tempted than he could have said. But he had something he wanted to tell her first. “No, Victoria, I can’t do that.” At her look of shock and disappointment, he hurried on. “What I mean to say, Victoria, is that I do not want to take you like this, here in this place.”

  She tried to make herself believe he was right and honorable to say this. “I see.” She nodded as agreeably as she could. “You want to wait until we are somewhere else, somewhere that Reginald has not been.”

  “No.” He tightened his arms around her. “That is not what I mean.” Then, to her utter amazement, he released her, slipping down upon his knee and taking her slender hand in his large ones. “What I mean, my love, my life, my soul, is that I do not want to take you, here or anywhere else. When I touch you in that way again, I want you to be mine in every way. What I am trying to say, Victoria, to ask, is, will you marry me?”

  At her gasp of surprise, Jedidiah looked up at her closely. For a long time, she gave no answer, her eyes closed, too overcome by the unbelievable happiness that rushed through her with the force of a summer storm. Then, at last, she opened her eyes. Tears clouded the misty gray depths as she whispered, “Oh, my love, I will be your wife.”

  He stood and drew her back into his arms, holding her against the hard length of his body. In risking his pride, which was nothing, he had gained the world. His throat was tight with emotion as he whispered, “Thank God, you love me.”

  “But, of course I do,” she said, holding him to her, creating a fresh wave of joy in his heart.

  Suddenly she pushed back, looking up at him in question. “What about Andrew, your business, your life in America?”

  Briefly his eyes darkened with pain, but then they cleared as he once again realized the rightness of his decision to leave Andrew’s life undisturbed. Briefly he told her what had happened at the Fairfields’.

  She reached out to brush a tender hand over his cheek. “You are such a dear, kind man to think of your son before yourself.”

  He held that hand against his lips, wondering what he had ever done without her. He had not been truly alive.

  He smiled into her eyes. “As for Cook and McBride, I think we’ll be opening a branch in England. Possibly in a heavenly little place called Carlisle.”

  She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him, but he drew away to look at her again.’ “There is just one more thing. About our children.”

  She watched him closely.

  He held her gaze with his own, wanting her to know that he meant what he was about to say, that he had made the decision without regret. “I want our children to have the name Thorn. McBride is not a name that has ever meant much to me. Yours is one they can be proud to carry.”

  She shook her head slowly. “Jedidiah McBride, your name means something because it comes from you. You alone are good enough to give it nobility. I do not wish to see the name of Thorn disappear after all these centuries, but I wish for our children to bear the name of their father whom I love and honor more than the breath I draw. Could we not settle on Thorn-McBride? It would be an appellation of great honor, for me and them.”

  He crushed her against him, tears clouding his own eyes. “What did I ever do to deserve you, Victoria?”

  She held him to her, glorying in his strength. “You loved me.”

  eISBN 978-14592-6790-9

  LADY THORN

  Copyright © 1997 by Catherine J. Archibald

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  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

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