Love's Misadventure (The Mason Siblings Series Book 1) (11 page)

He sat back in his chair in the private dining room in the Wild Rose Inn, his glass of brandy resting on the table in front of him, and sighed. Finding his sister had been more of a challenge than he had anticipated. If he had been in possession of a position higher up in command, he would have put more men on the case, but his was a limited reach.

The five allotted men to whom he’d assigned tasks had still not reached him. Henderson and Jones remained at his town house, awaiting news. Stevens had travelled in a southwestern direction, Davis had journeyed north to Scotland, and Thomson had gone toward Dover. He’d hoped that Thomson had been able to trace Anna and Lord Devon’s trail, but he’d not heard from the man.

Charles took a sip of his brandy. He would retire before supper, sleep for an hour or two, then be on his way at dusk. He was so damned tired.

The door to his private dining room burst open to reveal Thomson framing the doorway. Charles stood quickly, his chair falling backward to the wood floor. His heart plummeted at the expression on his comrade’s face.

“Thank the lord you’re here, Hyd—er, Major Bradley.” He glanced over his shoulder as he spoke. “I have been searching for you for the past several hours, stopping at every inn along the road. But once this innkeeper said you were—”

“Get on with it, Thomson.” Anxiousness clutched at his chest. “What news have you?”

“I found them.”

Charles’ stomach leapt.

“But I’ve lost them.”

“
Damnation
!” Charles’ dread returned. “Where did you last see them?”

“Y’see I’d been following the hack for a mile or so after happening upon them at an inn, when…” He swallowed convulsively, and Charles had to refrain from barking at him. “There was an accident.”

“
Accident
?” His heart constricted. “Is Annabel well?”

Thomson nodded once. “Everyone survived, but the horses ran off, and the hack was a right mess. One of the abductors broke his arm, and the others looked right mussed. But, Major, it is what happened
after
the accident…”

“
Quickly, man
!” Charles’ heart thudded mercilessly in his chest.

“The group walked for an hour and reached another inn, while I remained unseen in among the trees. They all entered, so I went after them for an early luncheon…”

Charles suspected that he knew what Thomson was going to say, and it was decidedly
not
good news.

“I waited for nearly an hour before I heard a commotion from above stairs.”

“
Good God!” Charles exclaimed.

“It is likely not what you are thinking, sir, bit it is not good. Your sister and Lord Devon escaped. According to what I overheard, Lord Devon feigned some sort of illness, and they leapt through a second-floor window.

Charles paled. “But if they’ve escaped, surely they must be on the road returning to London. Neither Anna nor Lane have any experience covering their tracks. They’ll be found and interrogated for certain.”

Thomson cleared his throat. “I overheard the men expressing anger with regards to Miss Bradley and Lord Devon’s actions. They no longer wish to interrogate them. They mean to hunt, torture, and kill your sister and her friend…for sport, sir.”

* * *

Anna looked on eagerly as Lane opened the bundle of food and removed its contents. Her senses were teased by the scent of beef, vegetables with white cream sauce, buns, and…
Oh my
! Tarts and chocolate cake! Her stomach rumbled, and her mouth watered.

The stream had satiated her thirst, the water cool and refreshing; however, her stomach begged for sustenance.

Anna enthusiastically accepted a napkin, which she placed on the grass in front of her. They divided the food and ate with fervour. Once her initial hunger had been satisfied, Anna turned her gaze on Lane.

“Does your arm pain you terribly?” she inquired.

The bruise on his cheek had not darkened but appeared to be a dull brown that could easily be mistaken for a smudge of dirt.

Lane shook his head and swallowed his bite of beef. “There is an ache, and I’m certain it will require a doctor’s expert touch, but it does not pain me greatly.”

“I am pleased to hear it.”

The sun began to hide itself behind the trees, lending a faint blue hue to the clearing.

“Dusk will be upon us presently,” she noted.

Lane grunted his agreement. “It is a pity that we do not have time to enjoy this spot.”

“Do you suppose our abductors will pursue us through this forest?”

He swallowed a bite of cake. “It is impossible to know what the Misses Bligh confessed under duress, but it would be safest to assume that our abductors know we absconded into the forest, yes.” He glanced around the clearing. “We must find shelter so we may sleep.”

“I daresay I could sleep where I sit.”

Lane grinned at her, and her heart flipped over. She sighed at its overzealousness.

Anna very much wished that she could soak in a hot bath and enjoy a night spent in her own bed. She knew not how long it would take to heat the ache from her muscles and soothe the blisters on her feet.

It would be decidedly lovely to sit in her favourite chair by her window and read a book…drink her chocolate. It would be blessedly peaceful.

Annabel noted, reluctantly, that it was rather contradictory to her character to spend the majority of her life fantasizing about experiencing the adventures in her beloved novels, yet now that she was living one, she only wished to return home.

She could certainly focus on the positive aspects of her misadventure; she had faced danger and prevailed, had been kidnapped and escaped, and had…well
no
, she had not kissed the hero.

Lane bit into a piece of chocolate cake, the muscles in his jaw jumping as he chewed.
I couldn’t
. Her stomach began to quiver with nervous fluttering. They were sitting close enough together that if she leaned forward, she could touch his lips with hers.
How could I think of doing such a bold thing?

They must continue on soon; if she were to do it, the moment would be nigh.

The fluttering in her stomach intensified, her heart pumping a staccato beat in her chest.

Lane bunched the remaining food into the package and wrapped it closed.

“Anna, do you suppose—”

His words were cut short as she thrust herself forward and covered his lips with hers.

* * *

Lane stilled, his body reacting immediately to Anna’s kiss. He did not wish to frighten her with his eagerness, so he forced himself to be outwardly calm. Inside, however, he was bursting. His heart thundered, yet sang, his stomach knotted, yet felt ready to float, his ballocks…
Well
, he thought ruefully,
they were tight and near-frantic to release their burden
.

He leaned into the kiss, nudging himself closer. Lane raised his hand to cup her jaw, thumbing the smooth skin under her chin. He traced the line of her lips with the tip of his tongue, gently urging her to open for him.

Her jaw dropped open on a sigh, and he delved inside, elation washing over him. She tasted of lemon raspberry tart; the hint of sweet was enough to drive him to desperation. He tangled his tongue with hers, urging her further, deeper with his actions.

This is Anna!
The jubilant realization hit him hard.
Finally
, he was kissing her, tasting her.
Blazes
. He wanted more!

She tangled her fingers in his hair, the gentle, almost painful tugging sending tingles of delight down his spine.

She was intoxicating. He wanted to touch her, to feel her. He didn’t care if he couldn’t complete the act of lovemaking, he just wanted to give her pleasure. Endless, erotic pleasure.

He wanted to trace his hands—nay, his tongue—along the ridge of her collar, circling her breasts to tease the sweet buds of her nipples.
Blazes
, he wanted to taste her womanly centre, to have her body sing with sensual desire and reach her peak over and over at his hands.

His thoughts hardened him unbearably. He throbbed…he
ached
for her.

Lane let his hand wander to her waist, his fingers fisting in the sunny material. His entire will went into not laying her down in the damp grass and—

“Lane,” she moaned, breaking their torrid kisses. “Do you hear that?”

The distant rumble of a horse’s hooves and wheels on a dirt road invaded his senses.

“No,” he groaned, pressing his forehead to hers.
Please do not let this end!

* * *

Anna quite felt like groaning, herself. She’d never known kisses like Lane’s—so passionate, so…
addictive
.

Her heart fluttered and her
mons
throbbed. She most certainly wanted more.

The distant rumbling drew nearer, pulling her once more from her thoughts.

“You don’t suppose it’s…” she trailed off.

“No,” Lane assured her as he stood, aiding Anna to her feet along with him. “That is a single horse with a light,” he scrunched his face in thought as he listened, “two-wheeled equipage.” He tightened his grip on her hand as he retrieved the bundled the remains of their supper. “Come.”

Anna went along with him, his hand hot on hers. The faint flutter continued low in her belly as they moved quickly through the forest toward the noise. The light was rapidly fading, casting a grey-blue glow on the trees around them.

Branches tugged at the skirts of her butter-coloured frock and the petticoat beneath. A chill ran through her, and she realized just how cool the air had become since the sun retreated.

Abruptly, the forest opened onto a dirt road, where they halted. Not thirty paces to their right was a figure sitting on a horse-drawn wagon, a lantern held aloft, swinging with the wagon’s motion. Anna squinted against the light, holding one hand to block it out.

“Ho there!” called the hesitant voice of an elderly man. “What seems to be the trouble?”

Keen relief rushed through Anna. This could be their saving grace!

They strode forward, meeting the man and his horse as they stopped in the road.

“Hello, sir! My name is Mr. Roberts,” Lane prevaricated. “My wife and I have been unlucky in our choice of equipage, I’m afraid. Had an accident some miles back and have been wandering through the forest ever since.”

“Bad luck, wot?” The elderly man’s eyes crinkled warmly in the corners as he leaned forward in his seat.

“I do hope it is not too bold to ask, sir,” Lane continued, “but my wife is exhausted from our walk. Would you be so good as to bring us to the next inn? We would be ever so grateful, and I could pay you handsomely for your trouble.”

The man waved a hand through the air. “No need to pay me, Mr. Roberts. I am headed that way meself.” He smiled, revealing one missing bottom tooth. “My name is Peter Collins.”

Anna curtseyed. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Collins. We are forever in your debt.”

“Nonsense, Mrs. Roberts. I’d be happy te take ye te the inn. It’s not far from here, but a few miles more.”

The kind Mr. Collins gestured to the back of his wagon and waited for them to get themselves situated before he started his horse with a
click
of his tongue.

Anna held on to the side of the wagon, uncaring that she sat upon bales of hay. Her feet stung, her body ached, she was in dire need of a proper bath. Her mind caught on that thought, and she nearly sighed aloud. Would she get the opportunity to bathe at the inn?

The wagon bumped along the dirt road. The greenery in this part of England was exceptionally picturesque. It was a shame that she could not see it through the growing darkness.

“Dover,” Lane grunted beside her.

“I beg your pardon?” she asked in an undertone, unsure if Lane had intended for Mr. Collins to overhear.

“We were headed toward Dover.”

Anna frowned. “But isn’t that just a—”

“Yes,” Lane interjected. “We could have reached Dover several times over by now.”

With a sidelong glance at Mr. Collins’ back, Anna whispered, “I do not mean to bemoan our success in escaping, but why would they delay their meeting with The Boss? Why not journey directly there?”

Lane shook his head, a lock of his uncombed blonde hair falling over his forehead. “I haven’t the faintest. But I am relieved that they didn’t. Lord knows what would have happened to us if they had.”

“Perish the thought.”

Lane poked at the faint bruising on his left cheek as a young boy would pick at a scrape. Anna hid a grin.

She swivelled to watch as they crested a hill. The wagon continued bumpily along as the sun all but disappeared beyond the horizon. The sky was streaked with bright pink and deep purple. Anna sighed, rubbing her arms with her hands to ward off the chill.

She covered a yawn with the back of her hand and groggily leaned her head on Lane’s shoulder. Her eyes drooped as Lane’s arm came across her back, pulling her tighter against him. Anna soaked up his warmth, her eyes refusing to open from a blink.

The rumble and sway of the wagon slowly lulled her into a deep sleep

.

Chapter 14

Lane adjusted Anna’s weight in his arms as he strode up The Swan Inn’s stairs. The innkeeper had given them the last available room. Evidently, there was a large party of travellers there this evening.

The inn was warm and inviting; they had small fires lit in the main rooms, and those enjoying a late-night repast sat at tables in the taproom. A low hum of conversation drifted up the stairs after them.

The innkeeper’s wife walked ahead of him with the keys in her hand. She stopped before a door and swung it wide for Lane to pass.

“This here is one of our finest,” she said, her low voice soft and smooth like honey. She smiled, spreading the wrinkles around her mouth until they were flat. “Your bath shall be brought up directly.”

“Thank you, madam.” Lane could not help but smile in return.

He placed Anna gently on the bed that dominated the small room. A fire had already been lit in the hearth, and candelabra graced each of the bedside tables, lending an orange, flickering warmth to the room.