The Captain's Mysterious Lady. Mary Nichols

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СКАЧАТЬ he could not reach it without taking his arm from around the young lady and he was afraid if he did she would collapse in a heap at his feet. Sam had no weapon.

      The masked riders laughed and beckoned Billings to join them. He went reluctantly but, after a few whispered words, he came back and, taking the girl’s arm, wrested her from James and pushed her back into the coach. It was then James tried to reach into his pocket for his pistol, but a shot whistled past his ear. ‘Get back in the coach and be off with you,’ the first highwayman ordered. ‘And think yourselves fortunate I’m feelin’ generous today.’

      They resumed their seats, the horses were whipped up and they were on their way again.

      ‘Madam, are you all right?’ James asked the young lady.

      ‘Leave ‘er alone,’ Billings said. ‘Can’t you see she’s upset?’

      ‘Indeed I can, but I do not think it is I who upset her.’

      ‘Being held up by robbers is enough to overset anyone.’

      ‘True. But I notice you were more surprised than overset. The scoundrels were known to you.’

      ‘Please,’ the girl pleaded. ‘I thank you for your concern, sir, but I am perfectly well.’ Which was very far from the truth, but she evidently did not want him taking the man to task.

      He looked across at Billings, who was eyeing him warily. If the fellow were to drop his guard, he might be able to overpower him with Sam’s help. But if he did, what in God’s name would he do with the young lady? And how could he be sure those two highwaymen were not following them? The coachman must have had the same idea, because he was driving at breakneck speed, relying on the moon and a couple of carriage lamps to light his way. Further conversation was almost impossible as they all hung on to the straps and endeavoured to stay in their seats.

      When they stopped for a change of horses at Downham Market, he would endeavour to part Billings from the young lady long enough to interrogate them both separately, James decided. Whatever he discovered he would report to the local constable, though it would be impossible to give a description of the robbers, considering the night was dark and they were masked and shrouded in cloaks. No one was safe on the roads while men like those two waylaid travellers. He was glad he had had the foresight to hide his precious cravat pin and most of his money in a belt about his waist and keep only a little in his purse. It was a common practice and he wondered why the thieves had not known it, or, if they did, had not searched him. He supposed they had been taken aback to find an acquaintance on the coach and their exchange with him had put it from their minds.

      His musings came to an abrupt halt as the coach wheel dipped into a particularly deep pothole, seemed to right itself and then lurch off the road. In spite of the coachman’s heroic efforts, he could not bring it back on course and it went over and slid down the embankment, accompanied by the sound of frightened horses and splintering wood. The coachman yelled, Sam swore loudly, Billings screamed and then was silent. The girl uttered not a sound, as the vehicle came to rest on the steeply sloping bank only inches from the river.

      James, who was thankfully unhurt, climbed out of the wreckage and turned to help the young lady. She was unconscious, which accounted for her silence, but was mercifully alive. He picked her up and laid her gently on the grass, then turned to the others. Sam was climbing out, looking dazed but otherwise unhurt. Billings must have broken his neck; his head lolled at an unnatural angle and he was clearly dead. The coachman, who had been flung into the river, was climbing out, dripping wet weeds in his wake. James went to help him while Sam and the guard saw to the horses.

      One was clearly dead, another had struggled free and was in the river, swimming strongly for the other side. As soon as the other two had been released from the traces, one scrambled to its feet and galloped up the road in the direction from which they had come. The fourth, though clearly terrified, was unhurt and allowed itself to be led up on to the road. Once that was accomplished, everyone stood and surveyed the wreck. It was certainly not going to take them any further.

      ‘Do you think those devils are behind us?’ the coachman queried, as James bent to tend to the young lady. She had a nasty bump on her temple, which would account for her passing out, but he could detect no broken bones. She would undoubtedly be bruised and sore when she regained her senses.

      ‘No tellin’, is there?’ Sam said. ‘And they’d be no help, would they?’

      ‘No, but the sooner we get away from here the better.’ He was trying to wring the water out of his wig, but it was a sorry mess and he gave up the idea of replacing it on his head and stuffed it in his equally wet pocket.

      ‘How far is it to the nearest village?’ James asked, glad he had given up wearing a wig. Opportunities for having one cleaned and dressed were few and far between while he was chasing criminals all over the country, and now his own hair was so long and thick no wig would stay on it. Usually he tied it back with a narrow ribbon, but if he was dining out, he allowed Sam to roll a few curls round some stuffing and powder it.

      ‘Highbeck’s four mile or thereabouts,’ the coachman said. ‘We’d ha’ bin calling there in any case.’

      ‘Right, then I’ll ride the horse and take the young lady up in front. The rest of you can walk.’

      ‘She’s out cold, she’ll not be able to hold on,’ Sam put in. ‘And the ‘orse ain’t exactly quiet, is ‘e?’

      ‘I can steady it with one hand, if you tie her to me.’

      As no one had a better idea, this was done. He replaced his hat, which he had found in the wreckage of the coach, and mounted up, stilling the horse’s protests with calm words and firm knees. Sam fetched a strap from the boot and tied it round the lady’s waist and lifted her up to him. He slipped the loop over his head and put his arm through it, cradling her to his side, inside his coat. ‘Right, she is secure enough. I’ll see you all at the inn.’ He picked up the reins and set the horse to walk.

      He could feel the warmth of her body through his shirt and realised it was the closest he had been to a woman since he had last held Caroline in his arms, the day he had waved her goodbye to go on his last voyage. He stifled the half-sob, half-grunt of anger that rose in his throat and looked down at the slight figure in his arms. Her head was nestling on his chest as if she knew she was safe, but her face was paler than ever. She should have started to come round by now, but she was still unconscious, though every now and again she gave a low moan and he prayed she had come to no lasting harm. He dared not make the horse hurry.

      Her escort was dead and could not be questioned now. Did that mean she was free of trouble? When she came to her senses, he would have to find out what was going on, who she was, where she came from, then restore her to her family. If she had a family. She had no means of identification on her, no luggage, no purse, nothing but the clothes she wore, now filthy and torn. He had been through Billings’s pockets, but he’d had nothing either, except a few shillings and two coach tickets, destination Highbeck. That was the name of the village he was heading for. Did that mean she was nearly home? Or was it Billings’s roost? The questions plagued him as he clopped onwards, cradling the unconscious beauty in his arms. For she was beautiful, he realised, and her skin, except where it was bruised by the accident, was smooth and creamy. Her scarf had come loose and he could see the top of her breasts peeping from her stomacher. They rose and fell with her even breathing and for the first time in an age, he felt a frisson of desire. He pulled himself together, wishing she would regain her senses, but if she did and realised where she was, she would be mortified. Would she be as frightened of him as she had been of Billings? he wondered, not liking the idea.

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