My Favorite Marquess. Alexandra BassettЧитать онлайн книгу.
Violet said. “We have traveled some way now, so perhaps you wouldn’t mind removing your person from my carriage?”
He shook his head, his wolfish teeth glinting in the dark. “Not so fast, Highness. Unless I miss my guess, this coach is liable to be stopped at any minute by people searching for me. Naturally, I expect you to deny seeing me.”
“Of course we will,” Peabody assured him. “Anything you say, Mr…. Brute.”
“Yes, it would never occur to us to do our civic duty by revealing your dastardly whereabouts to the rightful authorities,” Hennie added.
Just then the carriage began to slow speed and the three hostages exchanged fearful glances. “Remember, not a word about my presence, or the consequences could be unpleasant.” The Brute snatched Peabody’s lap rug and threw it over himself as he placed himself on the floor at Violet’s feet. His head rested on her lap and his arms came around her waist.
“Get your filthy hands off me!” Violet exclaimed. She pushed ineffectually against the distressingly muscular arm encircling her waist, but she desisted the moment the muzzle of his gun pressed into her right rib cage. Her heart, which in the first shocking moments of the carriage being overtaken had seemed to stop beating altogether, now raced uncontrollably. Was he just holding them captive to hide from the government men? Surely. If they did as he said, he would have to let them go.
Wouldn’t he?
“Now remember, I have no desire to hurt the lady, but I will if necessary,” the man growled from his hiding place. Feeling his hot breath against her leg made nausea rise up in Violet’s throat.
How could this be happening? Would he really kill her?
“Oh, Violet! You are certain to be Robert the Brute’s latest victim!” Hennie whispered in a horror-stricken voice.
“Shh!” Violet hissed, annoyed that her cousin’s words had exactly mirrored her own thoughts.
The carriage was at a complete standstill, and they could hear voices consulting with Hal. Then there was a knock on the door, and a young man in uniform appeared. The lantern he shined inside the carriage made them squint like mice whose nest had been disturbed. God knew how they must have appeared to the man. Violet could hardly stand to look at the pale, stricken faces of her companions for fear of breaking down herself.
The officer, however, seemed to sense nothing amiss. He sent them a genial bow. “I am Captain Smythe, ma’am. I am sorry to bother you ladies, but a rather serious criminal has been spotted in the area. I was wondering if you had noticed anything outside your window that struck you as unusual this evening.”
“No, sir!” they all chimed together.
“We certainly have not seen Robert the Brute!” Hennie assured him loudly.
The gun pressed more tightly into Violet’s flesh. In response, she gave her cousin a swift kick.
Hennie bleated.
Captain Smythe frowned. “Robert the Brute?”
Nervous laughter burbled out of Hennie. “Did I say that name? Oh, well…I-I just assumed that anyone depraved enough to stop our coach would be a master criminal.” She squeaked, “Not that anyone did stop our coach, of course. And not that I ever have personally laid eyes on the man. Heavens, no!”
The captain eyed her steadily. “You might thank your stars for that, miss. There’s no greater villain about on these moors than the Brute.”
A keening moan caught in Hennie’s throat.
Feeling the hard iron pressing against her ribs, Violet hastened to add, perhaps too brightly, “My cousin was given an earful of your local lore at the last posting house. She has quite an active imagination.”
“I see,” the captain said slowly.
“Yes, indeed,” Hennie assured him. “Naturally I have no personal knowledge of what that half mask he wears looks like…or the way his eyes gleam evilly from it.”
Violet hitched her throat in warning.
“Not but that he mightn’t be perfectly charming if he were dressed properly and not so terribly disfigured,” Hennie went on. “I always think tall men look so distinguished, don’t you, Captain?”
The captain actually seemed to be pondering the question. “As to that…”
“Not that any of us have personal knowledge of the man’s height,” Peabody interrupted, giving Hennie a pinch.
“No!” Hennie agreed. “Or anything else about him, for that matter.”
“As my cousin says, Officer,” Violet said, cutting her cousin off before she got them all killed, “we have seen nothing this evening, and we are anxious to reach home.”
The soldier turned from looking mistrustfully at Hennie and held up his lantern a little higher as he focused on Violet. She responded by smiling brightly, hoping she did not appear half as petrified as she felt.
The officer returned her smile and leaned toward her with just the slightest hint of flirtation. “Where have you come from?”
“Yorkshire.”
She felt the arms around her waist tighten and prayed that the officer could not see the trickle of sweat gathering on her brow.
Smythe seemed impressed. “That is a long way. I’m sorry you are not able to see our countryside at its best at the moment.” He laughed. “I daresay you can’t see it at all!”
The three of them chimed in with nervous laughter.
“It is a dreadful evening, is it not?” she asked him. “So cold and damp! I don’t know how you brave men endure it night after night.”
The officer positively glowed.
Violet batted her eyes at the man and asked breathlessly, “Would it be all right for us to proceed now? I am sure you understand our desire to seek the fires of home.”
“Of course, no trouble at all, miss. I am only sorry that I have had to delay you this evening. If you will just provide me with your name and direction you can be on your way.”
“I am Violet Treacher. This is my cousin Henrietta Halsop, and we are on our way to my late husband’s estate of Trembledown.”
The villain’s grasp on her tightened, and she had to work hard not to let panic show in her face. Was she not supposed to tell the officer her name, either? If only Smythe would leave!
But at the same time, the thought of his leaving caused another panic to sweep through her. What if he left and the smuggler killed them all? There was no telling…
“I heard that the new mistress was expected any day now,” Smythe replied with agonizing casualness. “Everyone in Widgelyn Cross is looking forward to meeting you. Trembledown has been uninhabited a long time. Stirred quite a bit of interest when it came out ’twas a lady was to take over the property, as you might imagine. Rather unusual, that.”
Violet smiled tightly. Couldn’t the fool man see that this was not a time for discussion of freehold property?
“But I dare say the place could use a lady’s touch after all these years. You’ll be very welcome in Widgelyn Cross, I’m sure.”
“It is nice of you to say so,” she said, her heart in her throat. “My cousin and I are looking forward to making the acquaintance of local society.” Could she really be sitting with a gun trained on her person as she made such ladylike, and such inane, small talk?
“I only hope that we shall actually be in the position to meet local society!” Hennie worried aloud.
Fortunately, Captain Smythe was no longer paying much attention to Hennie. He only had eyes for Violet…but could he not see the desperation in her face?
“Oh,