The Viscount Always Knocks Twice (Heart of Enquiry Book 4) (36 page)

~~~

Richard was the first to arrive at the Red Lion. The inn was the first on the road to London, the obvious place to stay given Mrs. Kent and the girls’ late departure last evening. Goggston would look here first. Pulse racing, Richard tossed Aiolos’ reins to a waiting stable hand just as Kent and McLeod thundered in on horseback. The three of them entered the inn. After a quick exchange with the innkeeper, they headed for Mrs. Kent’s suite.

She opened the door on the third knock, still tying the belt of her silk wrapper.

“You’re all right.” Relief threaded Kent’s voice. “Where are the girls?”

“In the suite next door.” Frowning, she said, “What is going on, Ambrose?”

Kent was already headed to the next room. He banged on the door.

After the fourth knock, Richard said impatiently, “Move aside.”

“I can kick down a bloody door,” Kent snapped.

Just as the investigator reared back to do so, the door opened.

“Papa?” a sleepy-eyed Primrose Kent said. “Why on earth are you pounding like that?”

“Thank God. You’re safe.” Kent exhaled as a drowsy-looking Polly Kent appeared behind the other girl. “And Violet’s in there with you?”

“Actually… she isn’t.”

At Primrose’s reply, Richard’s gut turned to ice.

“Where is she?” he said roughly.

Primrose frowned. “I don’t know exactly. When I woke up just now, she was gone. Earlier she couldn’t sleep and was keeping everyone awake with that dashed crossbow of hers. Maybe she went outside to practice?”

Panic roared through Richard. “She went outside?
Alone?
”

“I-I’m not certain of it,” Primrose said, her voice quivering. “It wasn’t like I told her to go—”

“Concentrate, Rosie,” Kent cut in. “What time did Violet leave the room?”

“Maybe… an hour ago? I don’t know.” The girl’s bottom lip trembled. “I was half-asleep, Papa.”

Unable to wait a moment longer, Richard turned and strode to the nearest exit. He heard Kent saying behind him, “Keep the girls with you, Marianne, and lock the door. Strathaven will be arriving shortly to escort you all back to Traverstoke.”

Outside, Richard jogged along the perimeter of the inn, McLeod going in the opposite direction. They met at the side of the building. McLeod crouched, staring at markings in the dirt.

Peering over the other’s shoulder, Richard said grimly, “Footprints?”

“Two sets. One larger, one smaller, the latter leading from the hotel. And look here, see how they’re smudged?”

“A struggle.” Richard’s heart kicked against his ribs.

“There’s fresh carriage tracks, too.” McLeod pointed to the markings as Kent joined them. “Wheels are wide, a heavy conveyance. Wouldn’t go faster than five miles per hour, I’d guess.”

Kent followed the tracks to the end of the drive. “Looks like they’re headed to London.”

“We can catch up to them,” McLeod said.

Richard sprinted to his mount. Grabbing the reins from the stable hand, he leapt into the saddle.

“Go, Aiolos,” he urged. “We’ve got to get to Violet.”

The Thoroughbred whinnied, tossed its mane in understanding.

They took off, dust churning in their wake.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Violet opened her eyes… and let out a groan as pain stabbed through her temple. By Golly, her head hurt like the devil. And why was the world bumping up and down? Come to think of it, where on earth
was
she? She made out velvet squabs, dirty windows, swaying straps…

It returned to her in a flash:
Goggs.

He’d hit her on the head—and shoved her inside the carriage. Goggs, whom she’d believed was a friend, had
kidnapped
her! Why would he do such a thing? Stunned, she could think of only one explanation: he was the villain. He’d killed Monique, stolen the necklace. Now he was making his escape, and he’d taken Violet as a hostage.

The
bounder.

Indignation cleared her head, gave her strength. Grabbing hold of a passenger strap, she leveraged herself up to sitting position. One of the wheels hit a rock, and her head whirled, but she took a breath and tried to focus.

Think, Violet. Figure out a way to get out of here.

She reached for the door handle. It was jammed, wouldn’t budge.
Crumpets.
She looked to the windows. Goggston had smeared them with mud, presumably so that no one could see her inside. What a time for him to turn out to be clever!

Running her hands along the frames of the largest windows, she discovered that they, too, were locked shut from the outside.
Drat.

Without much hope, she tried the small, narrow window next to the main one—and excitement surged in her when it budged. She pushed harder and was rewarded by a blast of cool wind against her cheek. The window was too tiny for her to climb out of, but she could poke her head out to assess her situation.

She could see Goggs’ profile on the driver’s perch, and just the sight of him made anger quicken inside her. Focused on the rock-strewn road, he didn’t notice her. Surveying the passing fields and woods, she didn’t see any farmhouses, any people who might hear her if she cried for help.

Pulling her head back inside, she considered her options. She could wait, hope for a passing carriage and shout for assistance then… but who knew when the next carriage would come along? Or if the people inside would even hear her?

Besides, she hated waiting.

Which meant she needed another plan. Something to break the main window perhaps? She looked around the cabin for a tool to use… and her gaze snagged on the leather handles lying next to her feet.
Her knitting bag.

Leaning over, she lifted it with reverent hands. She’d tossed the bag in before Goggs had shoved her into the conveyance. He’d clearly forgotten about it—or maybe he hadn’t even given it a thought. After all, what danger could a lady’s accoutrement possibly pose?

Pulling out her miniature crossbow, she grinned. Some men gave jewels, other poesies and books of poetry. But it was the rare man who gave the perfect gift.

God love you, Richard… and I love you, too.

She counted out her ammunition: three arrows. Given the blunted ends, they wouldn’t significantly injure Goggs, but they would definitely distract him. Maybe he’d get irritated enough to pull the carriage to the side of the road and try to take the crossbow from her. At least then she’d have an opportunity to escape.

Her strategy in place, she loaded the first arrow. She firmed her grip on her weapon, and, leaning out the window at an angle, managed to align her shot with Goggs’ head. She pressed the trigger.

“Ow!” he yelled. “What the bloody hell…?”

With one hand, he swiped at his cheek. She saw with satisfaction the thin line of blood trickling toward his jaw. His bewildered gaze landed on her, narrowing at the sight of her weapon.

“You stop that, you plaguey chit, or you’ll be sorry!”

“Let me go, or there’ll be more where that came from!” she shouted back.

“Don’t you threaten me, you little bitch—”

Vi ducked inside and reloaded. Assumed her position at the window again.
Pfftt.

This time she broke the skin by his ear.

“I’ll kill you if I have to!” Mad desperation glinted in his eyes. “Just like that French bitch, do you hear me? She laughed at me, taunted me when I tried to take the necklace from her—and now she’s
dead
. Have a care, or I’ll do to you what I did to her!”

Vi reloaded a third time. She aimed and fired. At that same instant, Goggs turned toward her, still shouting obscenities… and the arrow hit him straight in the
eye
.

Oops.

He let out a scream of pain. Both hands went to cover his bloody eye, leaving none on the reins.

“Gadzooks,” she breathed.

That was her last thought before the carriage hit a rock and careened out of control.

~~~

Richard’s heart seized when he saw the carriage lying on its side just up ahead. Its team had broken free, the horses specks in the distance. He brought Aiolos to a halt, jumped down, and raced to the carriage.

The door facing up was open.

“Violet!” he shouted, leaning in.

Empty. No sign of her.

He raised his head, scanned the surrounding fields—and saw them. Violet dashing through the knee-high grasses… being
chased
by Goggs. His momentary relief at seeing her alive and in one piece was replaced by a rush of pure rage.

In an instant, he was on Aiolos, riding toward them. Behind him, he heard his name being called, but he rode on with only one purpose in mind.
Protect my lass
.

Dirt flew as Aiolos’ hooves cut through the field, Richard closing in on his target. Registering his approach, Goggs spun around. Richard got one look at the other’s startled expression before he launched himself off his saddle and tackled the bastard.

They landed with a bone-jarring thud. Gaining the upper position, Richard rained blows down on his foe. He landed a resounding facer.

“Confess your sins, you conniving bounder,” he snarled.

Goggs raised his arms, trying ineffectually to defend himself. “Stop. Please. I admit it was me—Monique, the necklace, everything!”

“Then this is for my brother.” Richard plowed his fist into the other’s jaw. “For betraying your
friend
.”

“Wick has it all. Looks and ladies.” Tears streamed from Goggs’ eyes. “It’s not fair!”

Richard’s next punch made bone crack against his knuckles. “And this is for Violet. For drugging her, kidnapping her, and chasing her across a bloody field!”

Goggs gave a feeble moan, and his head fell to one side.

Richard was yanked backward. He fought against Kent and McLeod’s hold.

“Calm yourself, Carlisle.” Kent’s tone was firm. “The last thing we need is another murder on our hands. Goggs is down for the count.”

“I don’t give a damn,” Richard growled through a haze of bloodlust. “I’m going to tear him from limb to limb.”

“Not that I disagree with the sentiment,” McLeod muttered, “but you ken you have an audience?” The Scot jerked his chin to the right.

All of a sudden, Richard became aware of Violet… standing there in front of him like a dream. The one he feared he’d lost forever. An undertow of emotion swept through him as he hungrily took in the sight of her dirt-streaked face and tumbled locks.

“Lass,” he said through ragged breaths. “Are you… all right?”

“I’m fine,” she said tremulously. “I hit him with the crossbow, Richard! Got him in the
eye
and made him lose control of the carriage. When it tipped over, the door flew open, and I was able to make a run for it. The bounder started to chase me—but you got here in time.”

Richard’s lungs strained, his inner pendulum veering madly between relief and chaos.

Because now that the danger was over, his treatment of Violet rose like a spectre to haunt him. Could she forgive him for the way he’d acted? For doubting her and accusing her so unjustly?

Remorse and self-recrimination twisted inside him. Aware that Kent and McLeod were busy dealing with Goggs, he knew there was no time like the present to address his wrongdoing.

Pushing the words through his tight throat, he said, “Can you ever forgive me, lass? In the churchyard, I was a bastard to you. I know I don’t deserve another chance but I—”

She launched herself at him, and he acted reflexively, his arms closing fiercely around her. Hope trickled through him. She was letting him hold her. That… that had to be a good sign, right?

“Why did you get so angry?” Her voice was muffled against his waistcoat. “Was it because of the ladies in your past?”

She’d figured it out. No surprise there. His lass was quick-witted.

“I didn’t tell you everything,” he said gruffly. “How the first one turned me down because she thought I wasn’t handsome and charming enough for her. How the other duped me… planned to make me a cuckold. She was already pregnant with her lover’s child and was only going to marry me if he didn’t return. Luckily for all of us, he did, and she eloped with him.”

“Butter and jam.” Vi leaned back, her eyes wide. “Why didn’t you tell me all this before?”

Swallowing, he said, “I didn’t want you to think that you were getting a bad bargain. You’re so beautiful and full of life—you could have anyone. And I’m… I’m…”

“You’re the man I love,” she burst out. “The strongest, fiercest, and most irresistible fellow I’ve ever met! Everything I could want.”

Her words pelted him like sunshine. He absorbed their vital warmth. They dissolved the shadows of his past and made him blink in wonder at the brightness of his future.

Heart drumming, he said, “So you… forgive me?”

“Yes, of course.” She gnawed on her lip. “The truth is I
was
acting, um, strangely. But I swear it had naught to do with Wick. I don’t know what came over me—”

“You were drugged, lass,” he said quickly. “Goggs put a powder in your cider that caused that reaction. He hoped to create a distraction, to throw us off his scent.”

Her eyes widened. Then she shot an indignant look at the unconscious villain. “Thunder and turf, I should have taken his other eye out, too!”

“God, I adore you, do you know that?” Richard cupped her jaw reverently with both hands, his voice trembling with the intensity of his feelings. “My brave, loyal, and terrifyingly resourceful lass. You are the rarest flower, Violet Kent, and I love you with everything that I am, now and forever. Will you marry me?”

Her eyes glimmered. “I already said I would.”

“Say it again. I want to hear you say that you’ll be mine.”

“I’ll be yours,” she whispered. “Forever.”

Unable to tear his gaze away from her, he said without turning, “Any objections, Kent?”

“Far be it for me to interfere,” came the dry rejoinder.

His heart full, Richard gazed at his bride-to-be. “We’re going to be so happy, lass.”

“I know.” Mischief joined the love in her eyes. “Now aren’t you going to kiss me?”

“Brazen little minx, aren’t you?”

She grinned. “You like that about me.”

Since she was absolutely right, he saw no reason to contradict her. So instead he kissed her, she kissed him back, and the world faded to the blaze of love and passion…