1851
Road
to Wexmoor Manor
Suddenly
the coach lurched. Antoinette
dropped her spectacles. Outside
there was a popping noise, following by shouts from coachman and
his boy. She leaned
forward to grasp the window frame, just as a galloping horse drew
alongside the coach. The
rider wore black, everything black, including a black mask
covering the upper half of his face.
He kept pace with the coach, and although her poor eyesight
made him appear blurry, there was something almost mesmerizing
about him. And then
he leaned down and stared at her through the dusty glass.
And
smiled the smile of a dangerous predator spying his prey.
He
was there for only a heartbeat, and then he’d spurred his horse
on, but it was long enough. Antoinette
felt as if his regard had burned itself into her skin.
As if he had left a brand upon her.
Confused,
startled, her heart thudding, she pressed herself back into the
soft leather of the seat. She
told herself that this was England in the reign of Queen Victoria,
and highwaymen belonged to an earlier and more lawless age.
Or was this isolated corner of Devon yet to catch up with
the more civilized parts of the country?
Antoinette
clung to the strap, bracing herself against the wildly rocking
vehicle as the driver attempted to outrun the highwayman.
Her straw bonnet slipped off as they tipped dangerously
around a corner, and there was a loud bang as the coachman’s boy
fired his blunderbuss. Antoinette
squeaked, trying to see beyond the window, but it was all a blur
of trees and earth and sky. And
then the coach began to slow until eventually it shuddered to a
halt.
Antoinette
sat a moment and caught her breath, wishing she could loosen her
stays beneath the tight-fitting bodice of her tan taffeta and
emerald green velvet traveling dress.
Her hair, a moment ago neatly pinned and parted, was
hanging down, hampering her movements, and her skirts and
petticoats were tossed and tangled, displaying far too much silk-stockinged
leg above her lace-up boots.
What
now? Antoinette asked herself.
Was she to cower inside and await her fate?
Practical, sensible Antoinette had never cowered in her
life. Bad enough that
she’d been sent into the country to a place she didn’t know by
Lord Appleby, a man she detested, but to be trapped inside her
coach by an anachronism? No,
she wouldn’t have it.
Antoinette
released the catch on the window and after a brief struggle forced
it down.
Cold,
moist air wafted in, and with it the pungent sting of gunpowder.
Undeterred, Antoinette stuck her head out of the coach.
The scene before her was chaotic.
The coachman and his boy were on the ground, hands in the
air, and the masked man on the horse was pointing a brace of
pistols at them. “Be
silent,” she heard him order in a gruff voice as the coachman
began to argue.
Antoinette’s
mind worked furiously. Was
he after her money and her valuables?
She’d brought so little with her.
Most of her luggage was still in London, and her scant
pieces of jewelry were locked in Lord Appleby’s safe.
The
two men had turned their backs to the highwayman, and—she peered
hard with her naked eyes, trying to make out the scene—he began
to tie their hands. This
was ridiculous. Antoinette
turned away, searching for her spectacles, telling herself that if
she could see him properly she would feel braver.
She did not for a moment imagine she might be physically
unsafe, or in any danger of being molested.
The
coach door was flung open. Her thoughts froze. Antoinette
gasped. He was
leaning in, looking at her, and despite the lack of clarity in her
vision—or perhaps because of it—he was even bigger than
she’d thought. He
cut out the light and filled the door space, his hands gripping
the frame, a pistol dangling casually from his fingers.
What
did you say to a highwayman? For some reason the proper form of address escaped her.
“Give
it to me,” he said in a deep voice.
“Giver
it . . . ?” she echoed in a whisper.
He
tipped his head, and she knew he was taking in her disarray.
She sat up straighter, brushing down her skirts and pushing
back a long strand of hair. When
she looked at him again he was smiling, but it wasn’t the sort
of smile a gentleman would give a lady.
“I
know you have it,” he said in that same deep, slightly husky
voice. “The letter.
Give it to me.”
Shock
froze her. He knew!
She only just prevented herself from reaching up and
clutching the letter against her skin in its hiding place inside
her bodice.
“Who-who
sent you?” she demanded shakily.
“Who
do you think?” he mocked.
Lord
Appleby! She hadn’t
been so clever after all. He
knew she had in her possession the letter that could destroy him,
and he’d sent his man after her to fetch it back. What better way to dispose of the evidence and her chance to
use it than to stage a robbery?
Oh, he was very clever.
But
she couldn’t allow this to happen.
The
big man was climbing into the coach, and his broad shoulders
blocked out the light. There
was something very menacing about him, she thought, as she blinked
up at him, her mind racing as fast as her heart, searching for a
way out. He slipped
the pistol into his belt and drew off his gloves, slowly, while
she watched. When he
was finished he casually reached forward and put a hand on her
knee.
His
skin was hot, his bare fingers thick and blunt.
It was his touch as much as the unexpectedness of it that
shocked her. She
jumped back, pressing herself into the farthest corner.
His masked face loomed closer, and she could see the
glitter of his pale eyes thought the slits. His mouth was no longer smiling now but held in a straight
line, grim and determined.
“Give
me the letter. Don’t
make me search every inch of you, because I will.
Every inch.”