His Forbidden Liaison. Joanna MaitlandЧитать онлайн книгу.
was awake and half out of bed before the sound had died away. A woman’s scream. He was almost sure of it.
He was tempted to bang on the wall that separated his room from Ben’s. But there was no sound of movement from next door. Too much of the landlord’s heavy red wine had done its work.
Jack wasted no time. He had to find the woman, who must be in real trouble. But even for that, Jack could not leave his room in his naked state. Where on earth were his breeches?
He could not remember. And in the dark, he could not see them. In desperation, he ripped the sheet off the bed and tied it round his waist. Barefoot, and with no light, he groped for the door, unlocked it by touch alone and flung it open. A glimmer of light! Somewhere further along the narrow corridor.
Then another scream echoed round the wood panelling.
Jack launched himself along the corridor towards the light. Just round the corner of the passage, a bedchamber door stood open. A dark lantern had been set down on the floor just outside. In the gloom, Jack saw a fair-haired young woman struggling with a dark-clad man. The man was about to overpower her.
‘Let her go, you blackguard!’
The man turned his head just enough to see the new danger. Then he swivelled on the spot, dragging the woman with him, and putting her body between himself and Jack.
Jack did not waste any more words. A man who was prepared to use a woman as a shield deserved no quarter. Jack seized the man’s nearest arm, and with a degree of sheer brute strength that he had not known he possessed, hauled it off the woman. Then he whipped the arm round and up the man’s back, forcing it hard against the shoulder joint. The man screamed with pain. If he continued to resist, his shoulder might be dislocated.
Jack pushed the arm a little higher. That did the trick. The assailant dropped his hold on the woman and tried to use his free arm to fight Jack off.
‘Save yourself!’Jack ordered in French. He needed her out of the way, so that he could ensure this man was truly disabled.
She ducked under their flailing arms and scrambled back into the bedchamber. But she did not bar the door. What on earth was the matter with her? Jack could not protect her and deal with the intruder at the same time.
The man was shorter than Jack, but much heavier. He was trying to use his free arm to fight. But Jack was behind him and he still had the man’s arm locked against his back. He pushed it even higher. A loud gasp of pain. The villain must yield now, surely?
Jack tried to push the man face-first into the wall, but he continued to struggle. And then he kicked over the lantern. Everything went dark.
Jack swore. Fighting this man in the dark was no easy task, especially as he seemed to be able to ignore the pain of the armoire. He tried to trip Jack’s feet from under him, but Jack was wise to that. He had wrestled too often with his brothers. Then suddenly the man used his free hand as leverage to propel his weight backwards into Jack’s body. Taken by surprise, Jack staggered, letting go of the armoire. Now he had lost his advantage, and he could see nothing. He heard, though. There was a low growl and a filthy curse. ‘I’ll have ’ee now,’ the voice said.
At that moment, a light flared. The woman appeared in the open doorway, holding a tiny candle high with her left hand.
Jack saw the scene like a tableau vivant, his attacker crouching, ready to spring, and now with a small, wicked knife in one hand. Behind him, in the doorway, stood the woman in a pale wrapper, the light held high in one hand and a brass candlestick in the other, her bare feet planted firmly on the wooden boards.
Jack took a defensive stance, waiting. In the flickering light, his assailant’s advantage was lessened, but he still had that knife.
The man risked a quick glance over his shoulder towards the light. He saw the woman, the light and the candlestick, and for a moment, his attention wavered. Now was Jack’s chance. He launched himself at the man, determined to wrest the knife from his grasp. He grabbed the man’s wrist with one hand, and his neck with the other, trying to half-throttle him to make him drop the knife.
It took only a second. The man groaned and collapsed in a heap on the floor. The knife clattered against the wall and was still.
Jack gasped in relief. ‘Thank God!’He had never known any man to succumb so quickly. He threw himself to his knees and pinioned both the man’s arms behind his back.
The woman’s bare feet edged a step nearer. Out of the corner of his eye, Jack registered that they were small and fine-boned. He looked up. Even in the half-light, she was very pretty, with a mass of fair curly hair and delicate features. Jack found himself trying to judge the colour of her eyes. Madness! This was no time for such idiocy.
The woman had put the candlestick on the floor and was undoing the belt of her wrapper. ‘Perhaps you would tie him up?’ She offered it to Jack.
He took it, suddenly conscious of the fact that she now had to hold her wrapper closed with her free hand. What glories was she concealing underneath? He remained stock still for a moment, his mind full of lustful imaginings.
‘Sir?’
Her slightly testy tone brought him back to earth with a jolt. She had every reason to be cross. His behaviour was inexcusable. He hurriedly used the belt to tie the assailant’s arms behind his back, making sure the knot was good and tight. The man would have severely bruised wrists, to add to his damaged shoulder, which was little enough by way of punishment for such a dastardly attack.
Jack had himself back under control by the time he stood up, though he was increasingly conscious of his half-naked state. It was no way to appear in front of a lady. And this fair-haired girl was definitely a lady.
‘It is generally best, ma’am,’ he said seriously, ‘to keep your bedchamber door locked when travelling.’The implication was clear. She had put herself in danger, and unnecessarily.
‘And I would do so, sir, but it is a little difficult at present.’ She picked up the candlestick, took a step backwards into the room and gestured at the floor. There was another body lying there.
‘You did that, ma’am?’ he said in wonderment. She had taken on two assailants, at least one of them armed, and she with only a candlestick? This lady was an Amazon.
She nodded, weighing her candlestick in her hand. ‘I hit him very hard. I hope I have not killed him.’ There was a slight tremor in her voice. ‘But I was alone, and afraid.’
Jack knelt by the second man and checked for a pulse. It was there, and surprisingly strong, considering what had been done to him. Jack rose to his feet. ‘Have no fear, ma’am, he is alive.’
She smiled then, for the first time. Even in the relative gloom, he could see that it lit up her face and her eyes. But he still could not make out their colour.
‘Do you have something else we can use to tie this one up? I have nothing, I’m afraid.’ He gestured towards his makeshift attire.
She gave a low laugh. ‘I should prefer if you did not remove your sheet for that purpose, sir.’ She turned back into her chamber.
Jack took a step after her to find that the room was piled with packages. He watched as the woman ripped one open and took out some material. It shimmered as it caught the faint light from the candle. There was a ripping noise, loud in the sudden silence.
‘Here.’ She offered him the piece she had torn off. ‘It’s silk. Stronger than the best rope. It will certainly hold him.’
Jack took the delicate fabric and began to twist it. Yes, it was strong, but it also felt wonderful against his skin, slippery, soft, sensuous. It was the sort of fabric that should embrace a beautiful woman, not tie up a ruffian. But it was all they had, and he used it. Then he hauled the body over the threshold and dumped it in the corridor.
‘Thank you, sir.’She was making to shut the door on him.
He