The Most Eligible Bachelor Romance Collection: Nine Historical Romances Celebrate Marrying for All the Right Reasons (34 page)

She stepped into the hallway to see—and the bulk outlined there made her blood run to ice.

No—oh no—

“Papa!” she shouted and fled toward the stairs.

“Sally Brewster, you will see me!” Willie’s voice echoed through the hallway, and heavy footfalls thundered after. “You will hear me out, this moment!”

He caught up with her at the foot of the stairs, seized her shoulder, and flung her back against the wall. “Who are you to the Highwayman? Answer me!”

He punctuated his words with hard shoves. His breath, sour and stale, was hot on her face. She strained away, scrambling with claw and shoe to fend him off. He only leaned against her harder. “Tell me!”

She clenched her teeth against the words she longed to say. Curses did not become a woman.

“Listen to me, girl. You send that filthy brigand to my house, in the middle of the night, to wake my father and mother—you
will
suffer the consequences. It’s more than a kiss I require of you now.”

“I’ll never give myself to a snake such as you,” she gritted out.

“Giving does not enter into it any longer,” he growled.

“And I’ll make sure everyone in this town hears how you fled, whimpering, from the Highwayman’s lash, after hiding behind me.”

He flinched at that, then sneering, leaned in again—

“Unhand my daughter!”

Papa’s snarl from the steps above them, and the business end of his musket, sent Willie reeling back. Sally let the wall continue to support her.

“Has your daughter told you how she has truck with rogues and brigands?” Willie said.

Papa was unflinching. “My daughter refuses to have truck with you. That is proof enough of her good taste.” The musket barrel twitched. “Now, move. If you darken the door of my establishment again, I’ll shoot you on sight.”

Willie straightened his clothes. “You’ll rue this, I promise.” His glare shifted to Sally. “Both of you.”

She dared not breathe till he’d slunk back down the hall and out the door. Then all strength went out of her in a rush, and she slid to the floor.

“Sally, darling. Did he hurt you?”

Papa clattered down the remaining stairs, clad only in his shirt, gray hair loose to his shoulders, and set the musket against the wall before kneeling next to her.

“No—I—he—I’m well enough.” But she couldn’t seem to catch her breath.

Her thoughts still stuttered with the implications of Willie’s words.

The Highwayman had paid a visit to the magistrate? On her behalf?

She wasn’t sure whether to feel amazed, grateful, or betrayed.

Covering her face with both hands, she bent to her knees.
Oh God, if You do care
—
please, help us!

Chapter 9

S
am sat up, pushing aside bundles that had fallen on him with the jostling of the wagon bed. He scrubbed a hand across his face and peered at the deepening shadows. The sun had disappeared behind the stretch of mountains to their west. “Where are we?”

Jed laughed, but softly. “Still about a mile above Brewster’s. Get any sleep?”

“Mm. Maybe.”

Sam had found Jed pacing that morning, Brutus and Nero already yoked and restless to be on their way, when he’d pulled into the stable yard an hour past dawn. Jed eyed the lathered horse but said nothing for a change as Sam handed him the bundle of his costume, carefully wrapped in a wool blanket, and then paid the stable boy extra for the care of the hired horse. After explaining at least some of the night’s events—all he was prepared to share with his cousin—he took Jed up on his offer to let him sleep it off while Jed drove.

“Well, you better look sharp for your ladylove, if you don’t want her guessing who you are.”

Sam finished rearranging the load then climbed back over the seat. “Tell me about it.”

He ran his tongue across his teeth and winced at how fuzzy his mouth felt.

“And tomorrow is the Sabbath, aye? So we’ll need to stay through.” Jed elbowed him. “Not that you’ll make complaint about that.”

Sam made a noncommittal sound. Under other circumstances, no. But when he considered how carefully he needed to guard himself now…

A deeper misgiving simmered inside him. Maybe it was naught but the wretched sleep he’d snatched throughout the day, but something niggled at the edges of his heart and mind. Something centered on Sally, more than the aching to see her.

And that was a fire he needed to bank, given that it might be a good long while before he’d have her in his arms again.

“We’ve not been to meeting in Staunton before, have we?” Jed said.

“No.”

Up over the last hill—thankfully the ground was drier than last time—and the neat inn and stable yard of Brewster’s, with the orchard stretching beyond, came into view in the twilight. On the opposite side of the road, the tendril of the river branch snaked its way through the valley.

Sam’s throat tightened. Would he even be able to keep from speaking to Sally, from reaching for her?

What a difference from last time he’d faced her as himself.

Nero and Brutus broke into a trot, recognizing one of their usual havens. “Haw!” Jed shouted as they neared the stable yard. The oxen obediently swung left, and Jed shouted for them to halt. Calls of greeting came from both the inn and barn.

Sally’s twin brothers ran out from the barn to help with unyoking the oxen. “Jed!” Johnny piped. “What word of the Highwayman?”

Sam ignored the chill that swept him and kept to the task of unfastening gear.

“Why, none that I know of, Johnny boy,” Jed answered, just as he and Sam had agreed. “Right surprising, that.”

“Huh. Well, Papa and Sally will be asking as well. Not sure why she’s taken the sudden notice, but there’s no figuring girls.”

Jed laughed, and Sam ducked aside from his cousin’s sharp glance.

“Willie Brown seems to think she knows something about him, though,” Johnny went on, “which is why Papa’s taken an interest….”

Just keep moving. Keep working.

Of course Willie Brown thought she’d know. She was there when the Highwayman had shamed him before his cronies. But had he seen them together last night as well? It was possible, though he’d thought he’d been vigilant enough, and the orchard had yielded no sounds but those from his horse.

And their laughter, which had grown so loud a time or two that they’d had to shush themselves, which only led to more laughter.

“What are you grinning about, cousin? Get the other end of this yoke, will you?”

Sam swiped a hand down his face. Jed didn’t need his help with the beam, but it was a good reminder to wake up.

A dozen or so other travelers were here, judging by the horses penned outside the barn and already in stalls. “Lucky to get lodging tonight, looks like,” Jed commented.

Inside, Mr. Brewster met them and waved at an empty table. “Come in and welcome, but I’m afraid the rooms are all spoken for. It’ll be the barn loft for you two, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” Jed said.

Sam scanned the great room as they seated themselves—no sign of Sally, but that was nothing to be wondered at. Mr. Brewster brought them both tankards. “You’ll pardon us as well for things being a bit slow,” he said. “It’s been something of a long day for all.”

His gaze measured them both as they sampled the watered ale.

“Fine brew, as always,” Sam offered.

Mr. Brewster nodded, but absently. “Thank you.” A frown gathered between graying brows. “You wouldn’t have heard aught of the Highwayman, would you?”

“Ah no,” Jed said easily. “Swallowed up by other news on this trip up the Great Road, seems like. Everyone’s full of talk about the delegates meeting in Philadelphia for the Continental Congress—”

“Good, good.” The frown deepened. “If you hear aught, would you kindly let me know?”

The man’s manner was too distracted to escape Sam’s notice, even with him watching for Sally. “Is there some trouble, sir?”

Mr. Brewster sighed, his gaze on the table. “I hesitate to share tales, but you are good lads. And praying men, if I recall.”

Both Sam and Jed nodded, slowly.

“One of the last incidents surrounded the son of our chief justice. Apparently there was another last night, also involving my Sally, and the chief justice is threatening to have her arrested for slander.”

Sam was half out of his chair before he realized it.

Mr. Brewster’s sharp gaze twinkled. “I do not blame your outrage, son. But there’s little you can do. Only—pray.”

Sam sank back into his chair. “Aye, sir,” he managed, after a moment.

Oh, Sally…

The older man’s gaze held his in something between a frown and a smile. “And I warn you, if you think well of my daughter at all, you’ll find a way to soon speak your mind. Before another claims her affections.”

In all, it had been a perfectly wretched day. Sally pushed the wisps of hair back from her face and shifted, one foot to another, but the aching there would not cease. The tenderness across shoulders and arms would be worse tomorrow, after she’d slept—and, oh, how she needed to sleep.

Deepest was the dread and ache of her heart. It had been all day, with one task after another, in between visits from the sheriff and two of his deputies, and the chief justice himself, then a deluge of travelers that arrived just an hour ago.

The sheriff at least, at Papa’s pleading, was unwilling to haul her immediately to the gaol. The magistrate fussed and foamed before Papa’s calm insistence that, aye, Willie had indeed accosted his daughter, in her own home, and he’d not stand for her being so accused.

Slander, indeed. And no one had seen hide nor hair of Willie since. That was what chilled her most.

“What are you to the Highwayman?”

And then from Papa, gently, but much harder to resist,
“Why would he ask you such a thing?”

She’d no idea if they’d been seen. They laughed a little too hard together at moments, likely talked too loudly as well. If Willie was looking for opportunity…

And so, still reeling from Willie’s attack, to the shock of both Papa and Mama, she’d admitted the truth.

“I am in love with the Highwayman, Papa. And he says he is with me…. Aye, I know I was foolish to go out with him to the orchard, but he behaved with honor, he did….”

Her eyes burned every time she thought of it.

A step warned her that someone approached, and she looked up to see Papa. He’d lingered close today, but then, he hadn’t let Mama far out of his sight, either.

“The Wheeler boys are here,” he said, very softly. “Tired and hungry, both of them, by the looks of it. Take them the usual.”

Ah, not Sam. Not tonight.

“Aye, Papa.” She reached for a tray but stopped at his hand on her forearm. “Go gently with young Sam. They had no news of the Highwayman, but when I mentioned the day’s trouble, Sam took it especially ill.” He drew a deep breath. “I—I realize he may not be your first choice, sweet daughter, but do not rule him out. Just yet.”

She swallowed past the fist-sized lump in her throat. “Aye.”

It was stew again, midsummer fare full of squash and cabbage and other vegetables, with bread left over from morning. Her hands arranged the two meals as they always did, without thought, though her heart was leaden. With a deep breath, she lifted her aching shoulders and carried the tray out into the great room.

For a moment, the hum of voices overwhelmed her. There, against the opposite wall. And of course, the moment she’d come into view, Sam’s head lifted, his gaze searching hers.

His expression remained still, but a telltale flush crept across his face. By the heat of her cheeks, hers matched in color, she was sure. She held herself steady, weaving through the tables and flashing the occasional apologetic smile to those she brushed past.

And his gaze remained on her, even when she reached the table and set the tray down. “Jed. Sam. Good evening to you both.”

“Evening, Sally,” Jed answered, reaching for his bowl.

With the ghost of a smile, Sam dipped a nod. “Thank you most kindly,” he murmured.

She ventured a smile in return then hurried back to the kitchen.

There. She’d at least been civil. But tomorrow was the Sabbath, and as travel constituted breaking such, the boys would likely stay the extra day. What would she do then?

Chapter 10

T
he two of them retired to the barn as soon as they’d finished supper. Jed brushed out Nero, while Sam tended Brutus.

He’d never seen Sally struggle so visibly to put on a brave face. What had happened to douse all that light and joy?

A pair of pert faces appeared above the stall door. “Hey, Sam. Can we help?”

“Another forkful of hay would not be amiss.”

The boys ran off, bickering over who would fetch it. “Both of you bring some,” Jed called.

That settled it. Jacky took his armful to Jed, while Johnny brought his to Sam.

“So what was the big kerfuffle with Willie Brown and the sheriff today?” Sam asked.

“Oh, well, it was the strangest thing. Willie nearly broke down the door this morn at dawn. We heard him shouting at Sally, but Papa sent him packing at the end of his musket.”