Angel Rogue (11 page)

Gloomily he thought about how much he hated travel. Long hours in a jolting carriage, damp sheets, barely edible meals. And he didn't even have a proper valet at the moment since his previous one had just left and not yet been replaced.

In addition to the routine discomforts, he was going to feel like a damned fool chasing across the countryside after an American doxy, a retired spy, and a firebreathing reformer.

As he considered the prospect, the Marquess of Wolverton realized that he was smiling.

Maxie adjusted her hat against the sun, using the gesture as an excuse to slant a covert glance at her companion. Once again she was caught in one of those strange, breathless moments that occurred frequently when she looked at Robin. He was too beautiful, too enigmatic, to be real.

Not that he was hard to talk to. On the contrary, he was the only man she had ever met who was as easy to converse with as her father had been. When Robin tired of silence, witty words flowed from him like a burbling brook. He had drawn her into conversations about the passing scene, the fine weather, the late regrettable war between their countries.

Yet he never said a single blessed thing about himself that Maxie felt sure she could believe. Lord, she still didn't know what his real name was. Never again would she assume that mysterious meant silent.

Stranger yet was the fact that he was behaving as a perfect gentleman—so perfect that she was beginning to wonder what was wrong with her. Not that she wanted to be assaulted, but at least that was behavior she could understand.

Instead, she had a charming companion who was utterly incomprehensible. It was all quite unsettling, and far too easy to forget that in spite of his charm, Robin was basically an unreliable rogue.

As the road wound into a small grove of trees, Robin broke the silence by asking, "Did I tell you about the time I worked in a circus in Austria?"

She smiled, wondering what he would come up with this time. "Not yet. Your repertory of entertaining and wholly unbelievable tales seems to be limitless. Tell me about the circus. No doubt you were the star of the high wire act."

"Not at all," he said affably. "Horses are much easier, so I confined myself to daredevil riding tricks. My Cossack routine was much admired."

"Robin, do you ever tell the truth?"

He gave her an offended glance. "Any fool can tell the truth. It takes real talent to be a good liar."

She was laughing when two horsemen burst from the underbrush in a clamor of shouts and thundering hooves. The riders separated, one jolting to a halt in front of them and the other behind, the horses kicking up clouds of gritty dust. Both wore half masks and held pistols in their hands.

The leader bellowed, "Stand and deliver!" He was wiry and blond, with ferret like eyes gleaming behind the mask.

Maxie's heart spasmed with fear. Though she was willing to face the perils of the road, she had not truly expected armed highwaymen. These two looked nervous and very, very dangerous.

Beside her, Robin raised his hands in the air. "You must be right hard up to rob folks like us," he said calmly, his accent that of a laborer. "We've got naught worth stealing. You'd do better over on the Great North Road, with the fancy carriages."

"Too damned much traffic there," the man behind grumbled. Darkhaired and beefy in build, he kept his pistol trained on Robin's chest. "Easy to get killed."

'Times are hard," the blond man said. "You might not have much, but a couple of shillings are better than nothing. Jem, see what they got."

Jem dismounted and searched Robin's pockets, where he found a handful of coins. After pawing through the knapsack, he said irritably, "He weren't lyin' about not having much."

The blond man gestured with his pistol. "Do the lad.He might be carrying valuables because he seems less likely."

Maxie stood rigid while Jem searched her, praying that he would not feel the unboyish curves concealed by her loose clothing. Though she had mentally accepted the possibility of rape, such detachment was impossible when a criminal was running rough hands over her body and breathing boozy breath into her face.

Luckily, the binding on her breasts prevented him from realizing the sex of his victim. He didn't find the knife in her boot, either. However, he quickly located her inner coat pockets. He pulled out her harmonica. "What's this, Ned?"

"Some kind of mouth organ," Ned replied. "Probably good for a shilling or two."

Maxie bit her tongue against her automatic protest. At least he hadn't found the earrings that were in the same pocket.

It was harder when Jem found her father's watch. He whistled when he pulled it out. "You was right, the lad has the valuables. This is gold, and worth a pretty penny."

"Give it to me." After inspecting it, Ned gave a nod of satisfaction and tucked it inside his coat. "Now check the boy's neck. He's wearing a silver chain."

As Maxie cringed back, Jem stuck a dirty finger under the chain and fished out her cross. "Well, I'll be damned, this is our lucky day." He flicked open the latch and pulled the chain from her neck, then dropped the cross into his pocket.

"No!" she pleaded. "Don't take that. It was my mother's—the only thing I have of hers."

'Too bad," Jem said with a nasty laugh as he started to dig through her knapsack.

Blind with rage, she was about to go for her knife when Robin grabbed her elbow. Under his breath, he said sharply, "It's not worth your life."

When she gave him a wild glance, he said, 'Think, dammit! Would your mother want you to die for a piece of metal?"

His words cleared her mind. She glanced up and saw that the barrel of Ned's gun was trained on her.

He grinned wolfishly. 'Take one step toward Jem and you're dead, boyo." He thumbed the hammer of his pistol. "Maybe I'll shoot you both anyhow, before you can report us to a magistrate."

Maxie felt the tensing of Robin's hand on her arm, but his voice was easy when he said, "Leave two corpses on the road, and they'll look for you right hard. Easier to leave us alive. We won't be able to get to a town fast enough to cause you trouble."

With a hint of regret, Ned said, "I's'pose you're right."

Maxie let out a sigh of relief. Seeing that she was in control of herself, Robin released her elbow.

Jem patted his pocket. 'This is a damned good haul. We'll have to rob walkers more regularlike."

Ned asked, "Jem, have you got everything worth getting?"

"What about this bloke's coat? It'd fit you pretty good."

Ned inspected Robin's worn but wellcut blue coat. "You're right, he must've bought it used, 'cause no village tailor made that. That fellow Brummel wouldn't be ashamed of one like it." He gestured with his pistol. "Take it off."

Robin looked stubborn. "Stealing clothes off a man's back is pretty low. If you want my coat, you'll have to take it."

Maxie gasped. "Show some sense, Robin!"

"If they shoot me, the holes and blood will ruin it," he said calmly.

Conceding the point, Ned ordered, 'Take it off him."

Jem grinned and rubbed his right fist against his left palm while he savored the prospect. Then, with sudden savagery, he slammed a massive fist into Robin's belly, following it with another blow to the chest. Robin gasped with pain and bent forward, falling against his assailant.

With a disgusted sound, Jem shoved him away, then wrenched off the coat. Robin submitted meekly, his face white and his shoulders heaving as he fought for breath. Maxie wanted to hit him herself for his stupid obstinacy.

Jem tossed the coat up to his partner. Ned nodded with pleasure and waved his gun toward the road. "You two get moving while I'm feeling merciful."

Maxie grabbed the knapsacks from the dusty road, then took Robin's shirtsleeved arm and towed him down the road. He was still bent over and gulping for air.

She hissed, "Idiot! How could you cause trouble over a coat? At least my mother's cross meant something."

They were almost around the next curve when a shot cracked through the air and dust spurted two feet away from Robin. From the roar of laughter that came from the highwaymen, she guessed that the shot was intended to harass rather kill, but she wasted no time in hauling her companion out of view.

As soon as they rounded the bend, Robin straightened up, all traces of injury gone. "Down this lane. We have to disappear before they realize what happened," he said in a clipped voice as he took his knapsack from Maxie.

She glared at him. "What the devil are you babbling about?"

He grinned and opened his hands. In the left was her mother's cross and a wad of money, in the right her harmonica.

She gaped at the objects. "How did you get these back?"

"Picked his pockets, of course." He gave her the cross and harmonica and dumped the money into his knapsack. "Come on, there's no time to waste." He entered the lane at a fast jog.

"Picked his pockets?" After a moment of astonishment, she stashed her possessions inside her coat and darted after him. "Robin, you're disgraceful!"

He gave her a laughing glance. "God will forgive me—that's his business." His expression sobered. "Sorry I didn't get the watch, but I couldn't think of a good way to get close to Ned."

Good heavens, he had deliberately taken those blows in order to retrieve her cross. And she had thought him stupid! As a pickpocket, he was firstclass. She had been standing right there and seen nothing.

Shoving aside thoughts of where he had learned such appalling skill, she said, "Never mind. Letting yourself get beaten goes well beyond the call of duty."

As Robin climbed onto a stile that crossed over a fence, he said, "Jem didn't hit me as hard as he thought he did."

Maxie followed him over the stile and dropped lightly to the ground. "What do you mean?"

"Just as there are ways of hitting, there are ways of being hit," he said vaguely.

"It still must have hurt. Thank you for taking the risk. The cross means a great deal to me." She made a sound halfway between amusement and exasperation. "You have the instincts of a gentleman—one who is seriously warped."

His mouth twisted. "There are many who would agree with you."

She regretted the remark, but before she could apologize, Robin went on, "A good thing this area is a maze of fields and woods—it should be easy to disappear. I think we should swing north. If they come after us, they'll probably assume that we continued south, since that was the way we were heading."