Highwayman Husband. Helen Dickson

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СКАЧАТЬ lethal weapon to life. Stepping forward, he pressed the blade hard under the angle of Edward’s jaw.

      Laura gasped. ‘No,’ she cried, shocked almost beyond bearing.

      Keeping his eyes fixed on Edward, the highwayman addressed her coldly. ‘This is no concern of yours, madam.’

      ‘Stay where you are,’ Edward rasped when Laura would have thrown herself at his attacker. ‘What do you want from me? I carry nothing of value.’

      The highwayman stood there a moment longer, then, with a shrug of indifference, stepped back. ‘Come, now. You say you are a gentleman—although I suspect there are many who would dispute that,’ he mocked. ‘You must be carrying a wallet—and trinkets. A timepiece, perhaps, a cravat pin—rings—a snuff box. You must have something of value. Throw them on the ground, or it will be the worse for you.’

      Edward glanced at the black muzzle aimed at his stomach, and slowly and reluctantly removed his diamond and ruby cravat pin and watch and threw them on the ground. They were followed by a rather splendid ring and a beautiful silver snuff box, a gift to him from Laura as a token of her affection on their betrothal.

      The highwayman looked down at the objects and shifted them about with the toe of his boot, before saying slowly, ‘You’re right. You have nothing that interests me—only this.’ Without taking his eyes off Edward, he bent down and picked up the snuff box. Not bothering to examine it, he shoved it into his pocket.

      ‘You thieving scoundrel,’ Edward hissed, his hands bunched into fists at his sides. ‘I don’t know what game it is you are playing, but it’s most peculiar for a footpad. The timepiece is worth much more. I have nothing else of value.’

      The highwayman’s eyes shifted to Laura. ‘That may be so, but the lady might have.’ In a flash the blade of his knife had severed the fastener securing the cloak at her throat with masterly precision. It fell in a circle about her feet. The sudden action brought a startled gasp to her lips. As he sheathed his knife his eyes became fastened to the large sapphire and pearl necklace resting just above the creamy swell of her breasts, peeping over the bodice of her blue velvet gown.

      Laura’s heart missed a beat, and instinctively her fingers closed round it protectively. ‘No—you will not take that. Anything but that, I beg of you.’

      ‘Beg all you like, but ’tis a pretty bauble and should fetch a tidy sum.’

      ‘No. It—it was given to me by my husband on our wedding day…before he died. Please, please, don’t take it.’ She thought he hesitated for a moment, but that was all it was, just a moment, before he recollected himself.

      ‘This is not the time for sentimentality. Besides,’ he murmured, his eyes raking over her, drawn to the seductive allure of her gown and the curve of her breasts, ‘you look ravishing. You need no jewels to enhance your beauty, madam. Take it off.’

      ‘Give him the damn thing,’ Edward spat. ‘And then let him go to hell.’

      Stubbornly Laura refused to surrender it. ‘No. I will not.’

      ‘Hand it over, before I take it by force.’

      ‘You would not dare,’ she said scornfully.

      ‘Try me.’

      Swallowing her outrage in deference to his daunting height and the pistol levelled at her heart, Laura took judicious note of his soft, menacing tone and the taut set of his shoulders, and felt the first tendril of fear coil in the pit of her stomach. With trembling fingers she unclasped her treasured necklace and handed it to him. Laura knew he was grinning infuriatingly behind his disguise, and, holding her precious necklace in his palm, he threw it in the air several inches, caught it, and shoved it inside his jacket. He then advanced towards her once more with lounging insolence.

      Laura’s throat dried when he gave a low whistle of appreciation behind the handkerchief, and she felt hot colour flood her cheeks when his gaze wandered over her body in the most indecent manner. Unable to bear his taunting gaze any longer, she bent to scoop up her cloak, but with a soft laugh he quickly placed his booted foot on it, pinning it to the ground. Reaching out, he raised her chin with his finger. Laura felt uneasy.

      ‘Who are you?’ she demanded firmly. She thought that a hint of a smile lurked somewhere about his mouth, but she could not be sure.

      ‘A highwayman,’ he answered amiably.

      ‘Take your hands off her,’ Edward hissed furiously. ‘The lady is my betrothed.’

      Laura saw the highwayman’s tall frame stiffen. For a moment his gaze lingered on the elegant perfection of her face, before he dropped his hand. That was the moment a breeze stirred, and the clouds allowed a shaft of moonlight to sweep across them.

      Looking up at him, Laura saw his eyes properly for the first time from beneath his hat—pale eyes, almost silver, glittering like glass and ice-cold. They fastened on her once more and searched her as they probed her soul. It was as if he knew her innermost thoughts. She felt herself drawn to him, as if by some overwhelming magnetic force, and for an instant something stirred inside her.

      She experienced a strange, slinking unease—of shadowy familiarity. Although the night was reasonably warm, there was a chill in the air, and she shivered with a sense of deep foreboding. She could not have put the feeling into words, but it was as though some spirit had groped its way into her heart and made it beat harder.

      ‘You are to be his wife?’ the stranger asked.

      His eyes compelled her to speak. ‘Yes—not that it is any concern of a common footpad.’

      Suddenly the eyes boring into her own were cold no longer, but burning in his face like living things. She was puzzled as to why, for some curious reason, this declaration should arouse his anger. She blanched, edging away, but like a striking snake his hand shot out and grabbed her by the wrist and yanked her to him. Shooting a look at his accomplice, who had two pistols, primed and loaded, aimed at Edward and Amos, he dragged her stumbling towards the Stygian darkness of the trees.

      ‘Damn your soul!’ Edward shouted after them in outrage. ‘How dare you dishonour my lady? I command you to release her this instant.’

      The highwayman ignored him. Only when they were hidden and out of earshot did he stop and release his hold on Laura. Calmly he removed his hat and placed it with his pistol on a conveniently placed log. Believing she was about to suffer a fate worse than death, with a thundering heart Laura watched him remove the handkerchief, and at that same instant she had her first clear view of his face without the concealing cloth.

      Momentarily paralysed, she stared at that lean, hard face of his.

      And she recognised it.

      She stared at the man whose name she bore with the incredulous horror of someone who had seen a ghost. Her blood seemed to freeze in her veins, and she looked at him in a kind of hysterical disbelief that almost brought her to her knees. She wanted to cry out, to try and overcome the shock of it, but no sound came. She felt as though she were in a dream, or else going mad. It could not be true.

      ‘You!’ The word passed through her lips on a rush of breath.

      Her husband, Lucas Alexander Mawgan, the man she had been told had been killed by pirates when they had captured the vessel carrying him to England СКАЧАТЬ