Kilgannon (15 page)

When the door of the coach flew open I was surprised that Alex was so hurried. But it wasn't Alex. Two men faced me in the gathering gloom, silhouetted against the outside light. They wore kilts and plaids, and I relaxed, thinking they were Alex's men.

"He's got a woman in here," said the man with his hand still on the door handle. "Kilgannon's got a woman for us." He laughed, and my blood froze as I cringed back into the cushion. Surely Alex's man would not say such a thing nor leer at me so. Behind him the second man craned to see me, and a third dropped from the roof of the coach, dragging the bloodied body of the coachman behind him and showing his companions. He threw the coachman onto the road. The three men laughed and kicked the lifeless form to the gutter. And then turned to me. I screamed.

The first man lunged at me as I screamed again and turned my head out the window to scream a third time. A rough hand clamped over my mouth and I bit it. Cursing me, he yanked me in from the window, smashing my head against the frame as he pulled me backward. I thrashed about and he cursed again. Behind me I heard a second man climb into the coach and the door slam shut. And then the coach began to move. No one would ever find me if they drove away, I thought. Alex, oh, please. Or had they already dealt with Alex? Was he now in the agent's house injured or worse? They'd known his name, so this couldn't be a random attack. I screamed and struck the man in front of me.

It took only a minute for the men to subdue me. A swift slap across the face left me stunned and bleeding, and I soon stopped struggling. I lay on the floor of the coach, the first man lying heavy atop me, panting, the second sitting on the seat above us. I looked up at the open window and realized we were no longer moving. We could not have gone far, I thought. Maybe I could still escape.

The thought was no sooner formed than the man on top of me laughed and lifted himself off me. "Might as well have some fun, eh?" he said to his companion, who laughed. With one hand pressing against my throat, he put the other at the neck of my bodice. And tore it in half. As the air hit my skin I started fighting again. I still had my corset and shift but knew they would not last long. I screamed, and he hit me on the side of the head. And then I felt the second man grab my left leg at the ankle and laugh as he pulled it up on the seat. The first man fumbled at my skirts as I writhed against him, twisting away. There was no doubt what he planned and I probably could not prevent it, but I wasn't going to submit.

"No, no, no!" I screamed, and beat at him with my arms. He pressed against my throat again. I couldn't breathe. I saw a bright light over his head and felt as though I were falling, I thought I heard Alex's voice, but that seemed impossible. Still, it was comforting to think that his voice would be the last thing I'd ever hear. A man's hand was on the skin of my leg and moving upward, but I could no longer fight it. I closed my eyes.

I
WAS ALIVE. I
SWALLOWED PAINFULLY AND GROANED, RAISING my hand to my throat as I opened my eyes. The man atop me was turning to his companion, his hand at last off my neck. Behind him, in the coach's open doorway, was a tall man lit from behind by a lantern. The second man on the seat cursed and raised a knife to attack the newcomer. It was Alex. I tried to scream and warn him, but no sound would come out, and I struggled to sit up as my attacker was distracted. With a lunge Alex impaled the second man against the coach wall, his sword vibrating in the air. And in the next instant pulled the man from atop me, dragging him out of the coach.

Alex gave me a sharp look. "Mary, are ye
a’ right
?" he asked in a harsh voice. I nodded, and he turned from me and dealt with the first man, who was struggling to get away. For a long moment there was silence in the coach, and then the man on the seat gurgled and thrashed before slumping over Alex's sword. I stared at him in horror and then turned my eyes away. But what I saw was no better. The man who had attacked me lay on the ground dying, bleeding from a wound in his neck. Alex, breathing hard, stood over him, his cheek and arm bloodied. I must have made some movement, for Alex turned sharply, the knife in his hand raised. When he saw it was me he lowered his arm. But what I had seen in his face shocked me, and I
recoiled. Behind
Alex there was a sudden flurry of activity as the lantern moved closer and I saw several men there, more arriving. Windows were being thrown up and neighbors called down. Now that the danger was over, people were everywhere. Alex extended his arm to me and ignored the questions being thrown at him. His expression softened as he leaned in to me.

"Thank God, Mary, yer alive. Did he ... did he. ..." I shook my head. "Are ye truly
a’ right
, lass? I thought I wouldna be in time. Three to deal with was more than I thought, and the driver was most difficult." The driver, I thought. Alex had killed three men. I glanced at the man on the seat, and Alex followed my gaze. He said something in Gaelic, sneering at the man. "Scum," he said, reaching up for his sword, then changing his mind as I cringed. "Come, lass, come out of there."

I did slowly, my muscles trembling, and emerged from the coach to gasps from the onlookers. Lanterns were everywhere, and voices were asking me things I couldn't understand. I felt the cold air against my naked shoulders and hugged my arms across my chest. Alex reached behind me and pulled my cloak from the coach, wrapping it around me hastily and then pulling me gently to him. 'Tell me, lass, are ye
a’ right
? Did they hurt ye anywhere I canna see?"

"You killed them," I croaked.

Alex nodded. "Aye," he said, "and I'd do it again if they attacked ye."

I did not answer but leaned against him, my trembling increasing. His heart was beating furiously, but he seemed undisturbed now. He held me lightly and kissed my hair. How can a man kill another and talk so calmly? I wondered. "Thank God ye screamed and kept screaming,
Mary
. That's how I found ye. They'd not gotten far." He turned as a well-dressed man touched his arm.

"Kilgannon," said the man. 'The Guard is coming. Before they get here we need to look at these men. Do you know who they are?"

Alex loosened his grip on me, leaning over my attacker's body with the gentleman. A servant moved a lantern closer, and two others dragged the third dead man before them. All three assailants were dressed in kilts and plaids, and Alex let me go altogether as he leaned to touch one of the kilts with a grant. He rose and stood before me, wiping his hand on his thigh.

"Are they your men?" asked the gentleman.

Alex shook his head tightly and looked at me as he spoke. "No, That's a Campbell plaid." He leaned over the dead men again and cut away a large piece of the plaid that one of the men had worn thrown over his shoulder. Folding the material and tucking it into his belt, he turned to the coach, his face grim. I didn't watch as he leaned in to retrieve his sword but heard the body slump to the seat, then to the floor. Alex wiped his sword on the man's clothes.

"I am William Burton, miss," the gentleman said to me, "Kilgannon's agent. Won't you come into the house and wait while we deal with the Guard? I'm sure you don't want to stand here while we talk." "Aye," Alex said, and guided me through the crowd. He gazed deeply into my eyes and tenderly ran his knuckles down my cheek before leaving me.

The next hour was a blur. Clutching my cloak tightly around me, I sat silently in the agent's parlor with his wide-eyed wife while Alex was outside with her husband and the Guard, then inside with them. Mrs. Burton handed me a warm cloth to wipe my face and hands, and I did so without speaking. And then the Guard wanted to ask me questions, I glanced up at Alex and nodded that I would talk to them. He knelt next to my chair and held my hand.

"I dinna want any mention of this lady's name in yer report," he said to the two guardsmen, who exchanged a glance. "It's
no’ her
fault she was attacked, and I don't want her name bandied about London. Do ye agree?" The guardsmen nodded and one politely asked me what had happened.

My voice came out in a hoarse whisper and it hurt to speak. I swallowed again and my voice cracked. "Lord Kilgannon saved my life," I said, and told them briefly that I had been waiting for Alex when the three men attacked. I was not asked nor did I say that the men knew whose coach it was and that this was not a random assault. I did say that although their clothes were Scottish, their voices were English. Londoners. Alex started at that, and his eyes narrowed. The Guard mercifully breezed over the details of the attack and then were gone.

As the door shut behind them, Alex reached to help me to my feet. I wobbled but was able to stand. "Mr. Burton, Mrs. Burton, I thank ye for yer kindness and rely on yer discretion.

I trust that Miss—this lady will not have to fear that ye will reveal her identity."

The agent gave his assurances and offered the services of his coach. Alex accepted, thanked him, and we left at once.

We rode in silence. I watched Alex's profile and realized that what I had said earlier was true. He had saved my honor and probably my life, and he didn't seem to think that an amazing thing. It was to me. The men who attacked me had been brutal and their intentions obvious. I had little doubt that they would have disposed of me as easily as they had the coachman.

"Alex," I said. "You saved my life. Thank you."

He turned to me then. "I thank God I got there in time. How are ye feeling?"

"My head hurts and my throat, and I think my cheek is swelling. But it's nothing compared to what could have been," I said. He studied my face in the dim light and nodded.

"Aye, ye'll have bruises there. They struck ye?"

"Yes. I was ... uncooperative."

He smiled grimly. "I could hear ye, lass. I heard ye from inside the house. When we looked out the window they saw us and started away. And outside it was yer screams and the kicking against the door that helped me find ye. If ye'd been quiet they would have whisked ye away and I'd never have found ye. It was the matter of a moment." "They knew that the coach was yours," I said. "I think they meant to get into the coach and surprise you when you entered. But I was there instead. You were the target of the attack, Alex."

He turned to me with an unreadable expression. "Perhaps."

"They used your name," I said, and told him what they'd said.

He was silent for several minutes, then spoke evenly. "They all ken who ye are, Mary. All of them—the Burtons, the Guard, the neighbors. I dinna tell them, but they all kent it, and now all of London will hear of this. Whoever set up this Campbell attack may be listening."

"It can't be Robert," I said. "It can't be. You cannot believe that of him. Why would he attack you?"

Alex started to speak, then stopped. When he continued his voice was quiet. "I can think of reasons that Robert Campbell would want me gone."

"The men were English."

"They wore Campbell plaids."

"But they were from London."

"Where Campbell has property and employs people."

"You cannot believe Robert would do this!"

Alex met my eyes. "It's interesting that ye defend him so strongly, lass. What I ken is that the men who attacked ye wore Campbell plaids and that the man who has courted ye for two years is a Campbell. Need I say more?"

"I don't believe Robert would authorize an attack on you!"

Alex grunted. "Aye, ye'd think it a stupid thing for him to do, and the one thing I do ken about Robert Campbell is that he's
no’ stupid
. I dinna ken him as well as ye do, though, Mary."

I turned quickly to make a sharp remark but stopped when the pain shot through me. My throat and neck protested my rapid movement, and my eyes filled with tears. At once I lost whatever composure I'd had and sat back and closed my eyes. When Alex leaned over me and gently asked if I was all right, I began to sob.

I didn't pay any attention when the coach stopped, nor when the door was thrown open, and in my confused state I didn't think it odd that Matthew was there and not Louisa. I clung to Alex as he lifted me from the coach and sobbed against his shoulder as he carried me on board his ship and down the stairs into his cabin, fielding questions from his crew. Angus looked up from the table in the center of the cabin and rose to stand before the charts he'd been studying. Alex spoke in Gaelic, and Angus answered in the same as Alex put me on his berth and wrapped a blanket around me. I wiped my eyes and nose on my handkerchief and sipped the brandy that Matthew handed me, then drank the refill as well. And closed my eyes, listening to the men's voices. I'd go home in a bit, I thought, but just now it felt good to be safe.

I woke when Alex tried to straighten me out from the pile I'd slumped in, and I looked up to see his smile. His cheek had been attended to and he'd changed his shirt. He smelled like soap and whisky. "Ye need a rest, lass, so dinna fight it. Just let yer body heal. And yer mind." The cabin behind him was dim, no Angus or Matthew. Alex kissed my forehead and I reached up for him. He stretched out next to me on the berth and stroked my hair. "Ye need to rest, Mary," he said as I held him to me.

"Thank you, Alex," I said, dangerously close to tears again. "You saved my life. I'll never forget looking up and seeing you in the doorway and realizing you were rescuing me."