An Unconventional Miss. Dorothy Elbury

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СКАЧАТЬ of his sister’s discomfort, Nicholas reached across and took hold of his sister’s hand.

      ‘Well, I think that you’ve done amazingly well,’ he sought to assure her. ‘I scarcely recognised you when I came back from school at Christmas. Believe me, Matt would never have agreed to give you this Season if he hadn’t thought that you had earned it.’

      ‘He has been enormously good to us, hasn’t he?’ Jessica smiled and blinked away the tears that threatened. ‘When he first turned up, I was really hateful to him, but after everything he’s done for us all—working so hard to bring Thornfield back to scratch and then going to all that trouble to get Mama settled in Bath—I’ve grown enormously fond of him. It’s not difficult to see why Imogen fell in love with him.’ She gave a tremulous smile. ‘As it happens, it has often crossed my mind that he is just the sort of man that I would choose to marry, some day!’

      ‘I take leave to doubt that there are many like him,’ chuckled her brother, returning his attention to his driving. ‘Besides which, I rather had the impression that you had set your sights on a certain lieutenant.’

      ‘Harry Stevenage!’ Jessica let out a peal of laughter. ‘Good heavens, no! He isn’t nearly rich enough for my taste!’ She shot a mischievous glance at her brother. ‘You must know that I am on the lookout for a duke—or, at the very least, a belted earl!’

      Having expected an immediate riposte for coming out with the sort of remark that might well have been expected from the Jessica of old, she was surprised to discover that her brother seemed not to be listening to her. In fact, his attention seemed to be keenly focussed on the hedgerow just ahead of them. Looking about her, she was suddenly conscious of the fact that the narrow lane along which they were travelling was devoid of any other traffic.

      Clutching at his arm, she whispered, ‘What is it, Nicky? What’s wrong?’

      He shook his head. ‘I’m not sure. I thought I saw—!’

      The rest of his words were cut off as two villainous-lookiindividuals, each brandishing a stout stick, leapt out from behind a clump of bushes. Grabbing hold of the harness, the first man dragged the horse to a standstill, while his accomplice darted towards Jessica and threatened her with his cudgel.

      ‘Yer purse, little missy, if ye please!’ he growled, his free hand reaching out to clutch hold of her booted ankle.

      At once, Nicholas was on his feet, beside himself with rage. ‘Take your filthy hands off my sister!’ he cried and, pulling the driving whip from its socket, he proceeded to lash out at the man on the gig’s offside.

      It did not take Jessica long to realise that, with this futile action, highly commendable though it might have been, her brother had put both their lives in considerable danger. Having quickly taken in the men’s shabby attire, along with the fact that they carried makeshift weapons, it had occurred to her that, in all probability, the men’s intent was merely to relieve their intended victims of any valuables they might be carrying and then to make themselves scarce. And, since she was more than willing to part with every single penny in her possession—as well as any other item of value that the men might have demanded—she would have been prepared to gamble that the easy acquisition of such an unexpectedly fulsome haul would have seen the two footpads very quickly on their way.

      Tugging at Nicholas’s coat-tails, she flung her bulging reticule at her tormentor, at the same time urging her brother to sit down and be quiet. But it was too late.

      As the metal tip of the whip’s leather thong struck him painfully on the cheekbone, the man who was at the horse’s head uttered an angry snarl and, letting go of the harness, raised his stick and flew at Nicholas in a rage. His initial burst of confidence instantly collapsing, the boy recoiled in dread, lost his balance on the gig’s narrow step and tumbled backwards into the roadway where he lay sprawled at the man’s feet, entirely at his mercy.

      Seconds ticked past as the thug stood glaring down at Jessica’s now panic-stricken young brother and then, with a malicious grin on his face, he slowly raised his weapon in both hands, clearly intent upon inflicting some terrible punishment on the youth. Jessica’s hands went to her mouth in horror but, unable to prevent the frightened whimper that escaped her lips, she closed her eyes, threw up a fervent prayer and prepared herself for the worst.

      All of a sudden, a single shot rang out in the silence. The stick fell from the ruffian’s hand as, letting out a howl of pain, he clutched at his bloodstained forearm. Then, without a backward glance, and followed closely by his equally terrified accomplice, he fled back in the direction from whence they had first appeared.

      The sound of the two men crashing their way through the undergrowth was very quickly drowned out by the noise of fast-approaching hooves. Jessica, having almost fallen out of the carriage in her haste to reach her brother, sank to her knees at his side, begging him to speak to her. She barely registered the arrival of the mount’s rider who, having leapt from his steed, was now lifting her, none too gently, to her feet and thrusting her to one side.

      ‘Better let me see to him,’ he advised curtly. ‘He might have broken something.’

      Jessica, who had been about to challenge the newcomer over his singularly high-handed manner, found herself hesitating. Although she could see only the back of the man’s head from her present position, his attractively deep voice, whilst rather brusque, was well modulated and she could tell by the cut of his riding jacket—which fitted across his broad shoulders to perfection—that he appeared to be a gentleman of means. She bit back the stinging riposte that had been forming and regarded him with some interest.

      Pulling off his gloves, the stranger knelt beside Nicholas’s still-prone figure and began to run his hands over the boy’s body. After several minutes, during which time Jessica clasped her hands together tightly, scarcely daring to take a breath, the man knelt back on his heels and uttered a satisfied grunt.

      ‘No bones broken,’ he professed cheerfully. ‘My guess is that the lad has merely passed out—this should do the trick.’ And, extracting a small brandy flask from his inside pocket, he gently prised Nicholas’s lips apart and allowed a few drops of the spirit to trickle into the boy’s mouth.

      Her eyes wide with apprehension, Jessica edged closer in order to better her view. As far as she could see, there seemed to be no appreciable change in her brother’s demeanour but then, quite suddenly, there came a slight choking sound and the boy’s eyes flew open.

      ‘W-wha’s happening?’ he croaked and, catching sight of his sister’s anxious face, he would have tried to sit up had not the stranger placed a restraining hand upon his chest.

      ‘Easy now, my boy. Gently does it.’

      Jessica flew at once to her brother’s side.

      ‘Oh, Nicky, Nicky!’ she gasped. ‘Are you hurt?’

      ‘Just about everywhere!’ groaned Nicholas as, very gingerly, he forced his body into a sitting position and raised a hand to his throbbing head. ‘What happened?’ he queried, looking firstly towards his overjoyed sister and then up at their rescuer, who having risen, was holding out his hands to help the boy up.

      ‘Your attackers made off,’ was the man’s terse reply.

      Nicholas frowned and, his mind still somewhat befuddled, shook his head. ‘I thought I heard a shot,’ he faltered. ‘But then—I suppose I must have passed out.’

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