by Lauren Smith
“And if I do?” she challenged archly.
Rafe laughed again and looked so amused that Joanna couldn’t resist smiling as well.
“Then who am I to stop you?” Rafe took another drink of the wine. “If he’s what you want, then off you go.”
“You won’t try to stop us?” She was used to Rafe being more relaxed than Ashton as far as protectiveness went, but this still surprised her. Lord knew Ashton was protective enough for a dozen brothers, but she thought Rafe still might protest. During her first season, Rafe had been even more protective of her than Ashton, and he’d even shown her some rudimentary ways to defend herself. Of course, tonight she hadn’t been prepared, and she felt like a fool for not using the skills he’d taught her.
Rafe sighed and came over to sit beside her on the bed. “Joanna, if you want to run away with a man, I trust you know your own heart in the matter.”
“I do know my own heart,” she agreed. “It’s been hard, Rafe. You haven’t been home much in the last year. I’ve had no dances, no courting, no interest. I’ve been put firmly on the shelf. Ash has been reduced to trying to bribe men into marrying me, and even most desperate have refused. But not Brock—he wants me.”
“Does he want your money, Joanna, or you? Have you talked with him?”
“I’m sure that has influenced him to some degree, but when he kisses me, it’s as if—”
Rafe held up a hand. “Now wait a minute, I do not want to hear about you kissing anyone. Even I have my limits.” He said this with a teasing smile.
She blushed. “I only meant that I feel wonderful, Rafe. I feel cared for and desired. It may not be a love match, but it’s better than marrying someone Ash had to throw a fortune at to even consider me.”
Rafe gazed into the distance. “Well…if it’s what you want, I will do what I can to help. You may both stay here tonight, warm up by the fire, and share our food.”
“Thank you.” She kissed her older brother’s cheek. “I must see to Brock now. Your man hit him hard, and I want to be sure he’s all right.” Joanna left the bedchamber and found Brock still unconscious on the floor. The other two highwaymen jumped to their feet, masks still on. They moved to block her escape.
Rafe chuckled from the doorway of the bedroom. “Easy, men. This is my little sister, Joanna. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I wasn’t sure why she was with this man and wanted to catch him unawares. Don’t worry, she’ll keep our secret.” He leaned against the doorjamb with a devil-may-care grin. Joanna nearly rolled her eyes.
“Sister?” The one who’d called her a pretty bird looked down at Brock. “What about the Scot then? Who’s he?”
“Her fiancé. It seems we’ve interrupted a race to Gretna Green. My older brother, Ashton, will soon be on their heels, or might be already. I’ve offered them shelter and food here tonight.”
The other two men removed their masks, and Joanna gasped. She recognized the two men. Lord Falworth, a young viscount whose family was in need of money, and the other was a gentleman named William Amberly. She’d heard rumors about his home, Amberly Hall, being haunted, which was why he stayed in a bachelor residence in London much of the year. Many young ladies spoke in whispers about his beautiful home being left unattended and shared the ghost stories that accompanied the attractive man whenever he set foot in a ballroom. Both men were close to Rafe in age and had gone to school with him at Eton and Cambridge.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Lennox,” they said, bowing in a courtly manner. Nearly all traces of their highwayman personas vanished now that their identities had been revealed.
On the floor, Brock groaned softly. Joanna knelt beside him and held out a hand to her brother.
“Your knife, please.” She wanted to cut Brock free of his bindings.
Rafe removed the blade from his coat but didn’t give it to her. “I will free him once he’s calm and knows we mean you no harm. He’s liable to kill us if he wakes up angry and afraid for you. I don’t suppose there’s any chance we could convince him some other band of highwaymen attacked him?” her brother teased.
Joanna brushed her fingers over her fiancé’s face. “Brock, please, wake up.”
His dark lashes, ones she envied, fluttered before he finally blinked and gazed around.
“Joanna,” he murmured. Then in a flash, he struggled violently, trying to free himself and get to his feet. “Get behind me, lass!”
“I’m fine! Please, calm yourself. Look around. The men from the cave are Rafe and two of his friends.”
Brock’s gaze darted from Rafe to the other men before returning to Joanna.
“They didn’t hurt you?” he asked.
“No,” she promised him.
“Lennox? What the bloody hell were you doing, attacking us in the dark?” Brock spoke to Rafe, looking more clearly around at the room.
“My apologies, Kincade. I didn’t know why you had my sister. I thought it best to take control so I could talk to her without you around in case she needed rescuing.”
Brock glared at him. “You shouldna have put a blade to her throat. She could’ve been hurt.”
Rafe swirled his wine, chuckling. “She’s not the first lady I’ve held like that. I knew exactly what I was doing. The angle of the blade was down, and it would have pushed into her cloak if you’d tried to fight me. Also, it was not a sharp blade.” He held out the blade and dragged the edge on his palm, showing how it couldn’t cut him.
“It is indeed dull,” Brock muttered.
“Now this”—Rafe slipped a second dagger out of his coat and knelt by Brock, easily cutting the ropes—“is my dangerous one.” He then held out a hand to Brock and lifted him up on his feet.
“And these men?” Brock nodded at Falworth and Amberly.
“This is Viscount Falworth and Mr. Amberly.” He jerked his head at his two friends, who kept a smart distance away from Brock.
“Friends of yours?” Brock asked.
“Yes, since we were lads. Gentlemen, this is Lord Kincade. He has one of the Scottish earldoms,” Rafe explained.
Brock nodded at them.
“Sorry about all this. Rafe didn’t tell us he knew either of you until a moment ago,” Falworth said.
Brock ran a hand behind his head and winced.
“As I was telling Joanna, you may both stay here tonight. Your horses are safe in our stables. We have plenty of food and drink.”
“Thank you.” Brock glanced to Joanna, and she nodded in encouragement as he accepted a flask from Falworth. Brock took a drink. “Fine whiskey.”
Falworth grinned. “Took it off some gentleman we stopped on the road a few weeks ago. Nasty brute, but he does know his liquor.”
Brock chuckled, but he carefully examined the hunting lodge.
“We have two bedchambers. Joanna, you may have my room.” Rafe pointed to the room where she’d been moments ago. “I’ll sleep on a bedroll out here.”
“Did Joanna tell you why we were in” Brock stopped himself, a concerned look in his eyes.
“She did. And you won’t find any resistance from me. But you will sleep out here with me tonight. I may not be the best brother, but I insist on her sleeping alone.”
Brock laughed, beginning to relax. “I agree to those terms.”
Joanna rolled her eyes and sighed. “You know that I am right here. What if I don’t wish to sleep alone?”
Falworth and Amberly fixed their gazes elsewhere, and Amberly whistled softly.
“No,” Rafe said at the same time as Brock said, “Not tonight, lass.”
Joanna glowered. “You’re not my favorite brother anymore, Rafe.” She wanted Brock to be with her. Was it possible after only two nights to need a man so fiercely, the way she needed him?
Rafe snorted. “I shall always be your favorite brother because I’m the one who let you run away to Scotland. Remember that.”
Brock laughed again, even though it made his head ache. “We appreciate the help. I din
na want to risk taking her down the Great North Road. Your brother would expect me to take her to the inns along the way. We’ve been bedding down beneath the stars instead.”
“Joanna? Sleeping outside?” Rafe suddenly laughed. “I can’t believe it, but I suppose we did find you in a cave.”
Joanna bristled, hating that Rafe was making her out to be such a delicate creature.
“She’s a strong lass. She’s made not a single complaint since we left.” Brock smiled at her with such pride that a wave of heat flooded her body, and she had to shyly look away.
“Well, do you wish to eat? Or sleep?”
“I’m fine for now. Joanna?” Brock asked.
She’d had plenty to eat earlier with Brock and didn’t want him to think he hadn’t given her enough. Men could be quite silly when it came to matters of pride.
“I’m ready to go to retire for the evening.”
“Then take my room whenever you like.” Rafe retrieved several bedrolls and put them on the floor. Falworth and Amberly tossed dice to see who would take the other bedchamber. Falworth won, and Amberly stalked over to his bedroll, muttering. Then Brock and Rafe arranged their sleeping places, with Rafe closest to Joanna’s door. She longed to speak to Brock, to say something to him, but all she dared to whisper was a good night.
She turned to the small bed in the bedchamber and removed her cloak. With no maid to assist her, she would sleep in her gown yet again. She was too tired to care tonight, but tomorrow she would be rather cantankerous if she didn’t have a chance for a bath and a change of clothes.
She pulled the bedclothes up around her and collapsed on the feather tick mattress, uncaring that the fire in the bedchamber was dying out. She had only to face one more night, and then she and Brock would be husband and wife. They would be free to stay in a cozy inn without fear of being stopped by Ashton. She burrowed deep into the blankets, her eyelids too heavy to resist sleep.
Just outside she could hear the murmur of masculine voices, Brock’s seductive brogue among them. Strangely, in a hunting lodge full of highwaymen, she felt incredibly safe. Safe enough to quickly fall into a dreamless sleep.
11
Brock took a small bite of mutton from a plate on the table. He had decided to eat a little once he and Rafe started talking. He was still too wound up to sleep right away, even though he knew he needed his rest if they were to finish their mad dash to Gretna Green.
“You’ll have to move fast tomorrow,” Rafe said as though reading his mind.
Brock leaned back in his chair. “Aye. I’m planning on your brother being right on our heels. If we’d had a coach, I would’ve changed horses every four hours the entire way without stopping, but I couldna risk taking the main road.”
Rafe chuckled. “You’re smarter than I would’ve expected.” Brock was struck by the similarities between Rafe and Ashton. In looks alone, the two men were close enough to be twins, yet despite the years between them, they couldn’t have been more different in their manners and thoughts.
“I’ll take that as a compliment, Lennox.” Brock smiled at Rafe, and they shared another bit of the fine whiskey Falworth had acquired.
Rafe nudged his glass on the rough-hewn wood of the table with a single finger, seeming to be deep in contemplation before he spoke.
“You do have an affection for her, don’t you? I need to know this isn’t just about money.”
Brock knew the truth mattered, and he was not about to lie.
“I admit, knowing she has money helps. Men in our position canna help but consider that sort of thing. But when I first laid eyes upon her, all I could think was that she was the bonniest lass I’d ever seen.” He thought back to that first night with her and smiled. “I was there to rescue Rosalind, before we realized she didn’t need rescuing, but instead I find this wee blonde angel with a book, wearing a tartan shawl and sitting rosy-cheeked by the fire. It made my heart soar at the sight of her. I didna know she was your sister—I only knew I wanted her. That didna change when I learned who she was.”
“So it’s her looks that matter to you? Looks fade, old boy,” Rafe pointed out shrewdly.
“They do, but kindness of the heart doesna fade. She offered me her book, wanted to know if I was hungry and if I needed a bedchamber prepared. She didna know who I was or why I was there, only that I was Rosalind’s brother. Such kindness, such an open heart. I want that in a wife.” As he spoke, he came to a sudden realization. What had drawn him to Joanna was indeed her heart, her kindness, which was so like his own mother’s.
“Joanna is sweet. She’s always been that way. But she can have a temper when pressed.” Rafe chuckled. “Be wary of that. Push her too far and you will pay.”
“Aye. I’ve seen her get a wee bit riled.” He thought of the night of the ball and how she’d struck him, but that anger had been justly deserved. He’d pushed her, hurt her. He vowed he would never do such a thing again.
“As long as you care for her and treat her with respect and honor, I’ll be happy to welcome you to the family. I cannot say Ashton will be as understanding, but between our father and yours, you can imagine why he is so protective of her.”
“I can,” Brock agreed solemnly. The dirt upon his father’s grave was still fresh, and the memories of those years of pain at his father’s hands would take far longer to heal. He never wanted to be like that man. Never wanted to strike down those he loved with fists or cruel words.
“What of your father? Joanna hasn’t spoken much about him.”
“He was kind enough, I suppose,” Rafe said. “But he didn’t care about us the way he should have. He gambled away our fortunes, broke our mother’s heart, and left Ashton with the responsibility to rebuild our family and fortune. This burden on my brother makes him distant and controlling.”
“I had wondered why he was that way,” Brock mused, but he could see it now. Joanna’s eldest brother kept a hold on anything that was within his power to control because it made him feel safe. He didn’t need to control Joanna. Brock would protect her now, the way a husband should.
“We should get to bed,” Rafe said. “You’ll need to leave early.”
“Aye,” Brock sighed and finished his whiskey before he headed for his bedroll. He was asleep long before the candles burned low and were extinguished.
It was close to midnight when Ashton woke from slumber by his mother’s frantic pounding on the door. He kissed his wife’s forehead and grabbed his dressing gown from his chair and wrapped it around his body. When he cracked open the door, he found her looming before him like a specter, holding a candle aloft, illuminating her white cap over her hair.
“I’m so sorry, Ashton, but I must speak to you.”
“It’s all right, Mother. What’s the matter?” He raked a hand through his hair, getting it out of his eyes as he stepped into the hall with her.
“Joanna wasn’t feeling well two nights ago. She went to bed, and her maid told me she wished to stay in bed all of yesterday. I went to look in on her tonight but when I did, her room was empty.”
Ashton’s blood ran cold. “Empty?”
“Yes. I woke her maid, and after threatening to let her go, I learned the truth.”
Ashton’s heart stuttered in fear. Surely his enemy, Hugo Waverly, wouldn’t go after Joanna. But of course he would. Nothing was beneath that man.
“She’s run away with Lord Kincade,” his mother hissed. “They are fleeing to Gretna Green as we speak, and they have at least a two-day head start.”
Ashton wouldn’t say he felt any relief at this news, only that his fears shifted from one ill fate to another.
“Are you sure she ran away with Kincade?”
“I’m certain. I went straight to his room after I spoke with Julia. He is gone as well. His brother, Brodie, said Lord Kincade had a cold the last two days, but it was a ruse. Lord Kincade’s room is empty like hers. Ash, you must go after them!”
“I will.” He opened his bedroom door again
and glanced back at his mother. “I’ll ride with the League as soon as they are ready.” He slid back into his room and started to dress by the light of the dying fire.
Rosalind stirred as he was donning his boots. “Ashton? What’s the matter?” She brushed her hair back from her face. His heart turned over in his chest at the beautiful sight of his new wife. He didn’t want to worry her, but they had vowed to have no more secrets between them.
“Joanna has run away with your brother.”
“Brock?” She shoved the bedclothes back and started to climb out of bed. “Oh dear…”
“Stay in bed.” He came over and cupped her face in his hands so he could steal a lingering kiss.
“But shouldn’t I come with you? He is my brother, after all.”
Ashton shook his head. “I need to know you are safe here. Hugo is still plotting moves against us, and I need you here, where I trust you will be safe. Also, I cannot be entirely certain Hugo doesn’t have his hand in this.”
Rosalind blanched. “You wouldn’t think Brock would—?”
Ashton shook his head. “No. Hugo is as much his enemy as ours. But I’ve wondered of late as to why no man has been interested in Joanna, and I’m beginning to see Hugo’s hand at play there. I wonder if in some way he might have driven her into your brother’s arms. And if he did, then it was not with the best of intentions.”
“I still think I should come.”
“No, love. The odds of reaching Brock and Joanna in time are slim, and there is still the matter of settling the situation. Mother will be terribly upset if she missed her youngest child’s wedding. You are the only person I trust to comfort her.”
Rosalind smiled a little. “I suspect it’s also because you’ll likely fight with Brock again, and you don’t want me to see it.”
“Smart wife.” He chuckled as he retrieved his greatcoat.
“No dueling. That’s all I ask.”
“Yes, darling.” They laughed together for a moment before she grew serious and so did he.
“I warned him, Ashton. I knew he had an interest in her, but I thought that he would court her properly if he was serious.” Rosalind sighed heavily.
