His protective vehemence thrilled her, before she reminded herself that she wouldn’t have needed protection if he hadn’t been so secretive. She certainly wouldn’t have taken any chances last night by telling those men about Mr. Pryce if she’d known that Daniel was such a notorious smuggler.
But Daniel wasn’t through with Mr. Wallace. “I suggest that when your men show up here, you return to Kent where you belong. Forget about Crouch and forget you ever saw me or my wife. This isn’t your concern. And if you make it your concern, you’ll regret it. I’d slit your throat as soon as look at you. Understand?”
Mr. Wallace said nothing, clearly mute with fear. Daniel was beyond anger, acting like the dangerous character he must once have been.
She wanted to despise him for it, but some small, clearly uncivilized part of her admired his fierceness.
“Do you understand, you bloody sot?” Daniel asked again, tightening his hold on Mr. Wallace’s throat.
Mr. Wallace’s head bobbed up and down, and Daniel thrust him back against the seat. Removing a handkerchief from his pocket, Daniel started tying it around the man’s mouth. Mr. Wallace protested, but his words came out as muffled gibberish.
As Daniel strode back to her side, Helena felt she ought to protest. “You’re not really going to leave him here like that, are you? What if no one finds him?”
“For God’s sake, the man wanted to kidnap you.” Daniel took the pistol from her and shoved it inside his frock coat pocket. With a glance at Mr. Wallace, he low
ered his voice. “If I let him go and he alerts Crouch to our presence in Sussex, we’ll never sneak Juliet away. We can’t take that chance. At least this’ll keep him quiet a bit longer.”
“Oh.” She swallowed. “I hadn’t thought of it like that.”
“Well, you’d best start thinking of such things. These men are not to be trifled with.”
“You’d know that better than anyone,” she snapped.
Anger sharpened his features. “I would indeed.” Glancing away from her, he added gruffly, “I know you have questions you’re itching to ask, Helena, but now isn’t the time. We’d best leave here right away, before his men come looking for him and find us instead.”
“Leave? How do you intend to do that?”
“We’ll use Wallace’s horse.” He gestured to where the mare stood grazing peacefully by the roadside. Then he glanced down at her leg, and his voice softened. “I’m sorry, lass, there’s nothing else for it. You’ll have to ride, and astride, too.”
She tipped up her chin. “I’ll do whatever I must. Besides, I wouldn’t get far on foot now without my cane.”
“Damn, I forgot about that.” He headed back to the trees and returned a moment later with a fallen branch. Snapping off twigs and leaves, he fashioned it into a crude walking stick. “Here. This’ll do for now.”
She took it, her heart lurching as she watched him walk off to fetch the mare. What kind of man was he? One minute he was threatening to slit a man’s throat and the next he was crafting her a cane.
Slowly she made her way back to their bags. Daniel’s deception provoked other disturbing thoughts. Why had he kept the truth from her? Were matters worse than he’d implied? Did he know even more horrible secrets about this Crouch than he let on?
He led the horse to her, looking grim. “You’ll have to ride behind me, because my weight would injure the horse. I’d walk and let you ride, but we need to move quickly.”
“It’s all right. I’ll manage.”
Daniel replaced the contents of Mr. Wallace’s large saddlebags with their belongings, but he hesitated over the sketch pad. She held her breath. Large as it was, it did take up some room. Then with a glance at her that hinted of remorse, he added it.
Remorse? No, she must have imagined it. The man who’d once ordered her to follow his commands and not ask questions was unlikely to feel remorse merely because she’d found out all his secrets.
And she wasn’t even sure of
that.
He might be lying about other matters concerning the abduction, too. Was his assertion that Juliet would be safe with Crouch’s men even true? Her heart began to pound. She’d thought she and Daniel were partners, sharing the same information, working with the same risks. But they were not partners at all, were they?
It took some effort for them both to mount the horse. They had to walk until they found a stile, since Daniel had to mount first and couldn’t lift her into the saddle. He set her on the stile, climbed onto the horse, then pulled her up behind him. Moments later they were back on the road.
Riding astride was sheer agony after yesterday, but she choked down her moans. For safety’s sake, she ought to wrap her arms about Daniel’s waist instead of hanging on to his frock coat, but touching him so intimately was impossible when she felt like strangling him. Nor did she want to be reminded of all they’d shared the night before, when she’d foolishly thought she’d begun to understand him.
She didn’t even know him.
Her brother-in-law’s man of affairs figured investments and advised dukes. Danny Boy Brennan, Crouch’s lieutenant, threatened to slit men’s throats. Danny Brennan lied whenever it suited him.
Oh, why must she have the instincts of a ninnyhammer when it came to men? How could she have been so foolish as to be taken in by him yet again?
They’d ridden only a few miles before Daniel suddenly turned the horse off the road onto a smaller one nearly hidden by overhanging willows. “Daniel? Where are we going?” she demanded above the thundering of the hooves. Daniel had kept the horse at a steady gallop, which, along with their positions, made conversation difficult.
“We need to find somewhere to lie low,” he called back. “I’ll explain when we stop.”
You certainly will.
She would not let him shut her out any longer. She’d make him tell her everything, if she had to beat him over the head with her makeshift cane to do it.
Soon they emerged from a grove of autumn-red sycamores to gallop past a wide expanse of marsh humming with grasshoppers and blue dragonflies. The narrow road ended abruptly before a small farmhouse and barn. Daniel stopped the horse in front of the wattle-and-daub house and dismounted, then turned and lifted her down. Her legs were sore, but thankfully the ride had been short enough not to tax them beyond her strength.
But even after her demi-boots were firmly on the ground, he stood there with his hands on her waist, his gaze trailing over her with a dark need that sent her blood racing in anticipation of more.
Lord, what was wrong with her? All he had to do was touch her and everything she’d learned today was blotted
out by the memory of him lying atop her last night, kissing her and caressing her and…
With a groan, she twisted out of his arms and reached for her makeshift cane. She moved a few feet away to face the tiny farmhouse. “Why are we stopping here?”
He came to stand beside her. “Wallace’s men are sure to come upon us if we continue on the main road. If they see us riding his mare, they’ll guess what happened and then there’ll be hell to pay. At least this way they may assume he was successful and that he went on without them.”
“So they might not look for him at all?” she said hopefully.
“Or they might be headed here now. Either way, we can’t go on so openly with him and his men around. We need to hide for a bit and find better transport.”
“But if they do find Wallace while we’re hiding, he might convince them to go to Crouch.”
“P’raps. P’raps not. They don’t seem as foolish as him, and God knows I tried to put the fear of God into him.” He sighed. “It’s not as if we have a choice, lass. At least if we lie low for the night, we might continue in the morning without trouble. But if we go anywhere near Sedlescombe tonight, we’re sure to be seen by some of them—and the only road to Hastings from here goes right through Sedlescombe.”
She glanced around. The timber-framed house was small. The barn looked ancient and scarcely capable of housing more than a few horses. In a nearby enclosure four pigs lolled about in the mud, and some Jersey cows grazed on marsh grass beyond. All in all, a struggling farm.
“So this is where you plan to ‘lie low’? Do you know the owner?”
“No, I took a turn at random.” He started toward the house. “But farmers hereabouts are friendly, especially if you cross their hands with silver. They probably won’t see anything wrong with letting us sleep in the barn, and that’s all we need—a night off the road.”
She followed him to the door, watching as he knocked on it loudly. There was no answer. He knocked again and they waited, but no one came. Finally, he tried the door. Just as the knob turned and the door opened, a youthful voice sounded behind them.
“Best get away from that door, mister, unless you wish to die.”
Instead of his stomach he feasted his eyes
On the charms of her beauty, which did him suffice.
“Love in the Tub,”
anonymous ballad
S
o much for friendly farmers, Daniel thought as he turned around.
Then he caught sight of their challenger, and relief curled through him. It was a lad of no more than fifteen, clad in a dirty laborer’s smock and nankeen breeches. A lock of ginger-brown hair drooped into the wary blue eyes that darted from him to Helena. The stripling brandished a pitchfork at them, but the sweat dripping down his freckled cheeks made it clear he wasn’t as brave as he pretended.
“Here now, boy, we mean you no harm.” Daniel took a step toward him. “Why don’t you just put that thing down and—”
“Stay back!” The stripling swung his pitchfork out toward Daniel. “And I ain’t no ‘boy’! I’m man enough to put this through your heart if I have to!”
Daniel stifled a laugh. What would the boy say if he knew of the pistol in Daniel’s pocket? “No doubt you can, but I’m not sure why you’d want to. We’ve done nothing to warrant it.”
“You were breaking into my house!”
“My husband merely wanted to see if anyone was home,” Helena put in. “When no one answered his knock, we thought perhaps it had not been heard.”
Helena’s cultured tones seemed to give the boy pause. He shifted his attention to her, his eyes flicking over her muddy gown and the makeshift cane she leaned upon. He lowered the pitchfork a fraction. “What happened to you? Y’look as if you’ve been rollin’ about with the pigs.”
She winced. “I certainly feel like it. I’m afraid we had an accident while on our way to the seaside. It quite destroyed our gig and tossed us both in the mud. As you can see, it ruined my best frock. It broke my cane, too, which is why I’m having to use this pathetic tree branch to walk.” She held out a hand with a cordial smile. “My name is Helena Brennan, and this is my husband Daniel. We’re very sorry to intrude, but we thought perhaps you could help us.”
The lad hesitated, glancing from her to Daniel with wary eyes. At last he set the pitchfork on end and took her hand. “I’m Seth Atkins. I live here.”
When the lad held Helena’s hand longer than necessary, Daniel said gruffly, “P’raps if we could speak to your father…”
Seth dropped Helena’s hand and shot Daniel a sullen look. “Father ain’t here just now.” The boy thrust out his chest. “So you’d best be talkin’ to me about what it is you want.”
“Of course.” Helena cast a warning glance at Daniel as if to say,
Let me handle this.
Then she gave Seth a bright smile. “Your father will undoubtedly be pleased to hear how well you are protecting the farm. But I assure you, we are not beggars or thieves. We merely need a place to stay this evening. We were hoping you might oblige us by letting us stay in your barn.”
Seth shifted from one foot to the other. “Why d’you want to stay in a cold barn? Sedlescombe’s only a few miles south, and you c’n get a nice room at the inn there.”
“With my poor leg, a few miles might as well be a few hundred. I can’t ride more than a short distance, and since the accident with our gig forced us to rely on only the one horse…” She trailed off with a pitiful look of supplication. “Please, you won’t make me get back on it, will you? We’ll be no trouble, I assure you.”
Christ, Daniel thought, and she said
he
was smooth-tongued.
Seth relaxed his stance and scratched his chest. “Well, I don’t know…” he began, but it was clear he was softening.
Daniel shook his head. The poor lad hadn’t had a chance once Helena turned her powers of persuasion on him. She’d done the same thing to Daniel in London, convincing him to bring her along against his better judgment. And now he was suffering for it.
“We can pay you very well,” she said.
“Yes,” Daniel put in, figuring that was his cue. He withdrew his purse and opened it. “We don’t mind paying. And
once your parents return, they can decide whether we stay or no.”
Seth glanced from Helena’s leg to the horse and then back to the purse in Daniel’s hand. “They ain’t comin’ back till tomorrow evening. They left me in charge. But I suppose it won’t hurt none. Long as you pay.”
“Thank you,” Helena said softly. “That’s most generous.”
The lad gave her a crooked grin. “You’re welcome. I’d let you stay in the house, but Father would tan my hide for it.”
“The barn will be fine, I’m sure,” Helena said. “It’s very kind of you to take pity on us.”
Helena flashed Seth a smile and the fool thrust out his chest, a bantam rooster crowing to a hen.
Daniel rolled his eyes. And to think that the lass believed she couldn’t attract a man. Was she bloody blind? Already the boy looked as if he’d pitchfork his way through hell to save her.
Daniel cleared his throat. “We’d like something to eat, too, if it’s all right.” Daniel drew out a handful of silver and waited until Seth’s gaze shifted to it. “It needn’t be anything fancy, you understand. Just bread and whatever else you can spare.”
“Mum left me some supper I’ll be happy to share.” Seth jerked his thumb toward the barn. “You can stable your horse in there. My parents took our only two, so there be plenty of room. I’ll bring the food to you in a bit, soon’s I dress.” He paused to scan the two of them, “If you want to wash the mud off, you c’n use that.” He indicated a pump with a jerk of his head. “There’s soap in the pail next to it if you like.”