Page 20 of Wicked Rivals
“Claire, fetch my reticule. I have a small pistol inside.” She hoped to God she wouldn’t have to use it. She had heard these smaller country roads were prone to highwaymen and other thieves who would prey on travelers.
Her maid found the reticule and handed it to her. Rosalind dug around until her fingers closed around the pearl-inlaid handle.
“Stay back while I see who it is.”
She opened the coach door and froze. The driver had started to climb back up to his perch, his hands in the air. A cloaked figure wearing a domino mask concealing his features had a pistol trained at the driver. A highwayman. They were to be robbed.
Chapter Five
Of all the trouble Rosalind had imagined getting into when trying to get her life back from Ashton’s steel grip, she hadn’t expected to be robbed by a highwayman.
“Who’s inside?” the man demanded of the driver.
“Lady Melbourne and her lady’s maid.”
“Step away from the horses and go over by the road.” The man flicked the end of his pistol to indicate where he wanted the driver to go.
“What is it?” Claire whispered.
This isn’t bad. Not compared to what you’ve faced before. She prayed she could convince herself of that.
Without taking her eyes off the armed man, Rosalind whispered back, “I believe we’re about to be robbed.” Her heart pounded hard enough that she could barely hear herself think.
“What?” Claire gasped.
“Let me handle this. Stay behind me at all costs.”
“But—”
Rosalind raised her hand with the pistol as the masked man strode purposefully toward the coach. Just as he reached the door, Rosalind aimed her pistol at his chest. She had never shot a man before, and she prayed she wouldn’t have to now.
The man halted, as though startled by her sheer audacity to point a pistol at him. Then he smiled at her hesitation.
“Don’t even think of shooting me. I have men in the woods ready to take my place should I fall. The end result will be the same, though they are likely to be less kind than I.” The highwayman’s accent was refined and strangely familiar. She couldn’t quite place where she’d heard his voice. Despite the storm, there was light enough to see those electric-blue eyes as the man stared at her. Eyes she recognized. The eyes of the very man she was desperate to find and throttle.
“Lord Lennox?” she gasped.
The man’s eyes widened a second before they narrowed. The lightning illuminated his own pistol aimed at her chest.
“Be wise, madam, and put your weapon away. I want any money you possess and your jewelry.”
Rain coated Rosalind’s face as she leaned out of the coach a little, but she didn’t blink, didn’t back down. Still, she was hesitant to use the gun.
“We have no jewelry or money.”
The man laughed. “And yet you wear such an expensive gown? I do not think so.” He pressed the muzzle of his pistol right above her heart, the metal cold against her skin. “Your money.Now.”
Rosalind made no move to do as the highwayman demanded, but suddenly her purse was being handed over her shoulder by Claire.
“What are you doing?” she hissed at her lady’s maid.
“Saving our lives,” Claire whispered back.
The masked man flashed a cool smile as he plucked the purse from Claire’s trembling gloved fingers.
“At least one of you has the good sense to do as you’re told.” He stepped back, pistol still raised, and waved the bag with all the money she had on her. “Have a lovely night, ladies.” He ran for his horse, mounted up and kicked his boots into the horse’s flanks.
It was too much for her to bear. Aside from the fact Rosalind couldn’t imagine being in a worse possible position, stranded in the middle of nowhere with a broken carriage and no money, this monstrous personal violation was intolerable. It would not stand.
