An Unconventional Miss

Clutching at his arm, she whispered, ‘What is it, Nicky? What’s wrong?’

He shook his head. ‘I’m not sure. I thought I saw—!’

The rest of his words were cut off as two villainous-lookiindividuals, each brandishing a stout stick, leapt out from behind a clump of bushes. Grabbing hold of the harness, the first man dragged the horse to a standstill, while his accomplice darted towards Jessica and threatened her with his cudgel.

‘Yer purse, little missy, if ye please!’ he growled, his free hand reaching out to clutch hold of her booted ankle.

At once, Nicholas was on his feet, beside himself with rage. ‘Take your filthy hands off my sister!’ he cried and, pulling the driving whip from its socket, he proceeded to lash out at the man on the gig’s offside.

It did not take Jessica long to realise that, with this futile action, highly commendable though it might have been, her brother had put both their lives in considerable danger. Having quickly taken in the men’s shabby attire, along with the fact that they carried makeshift weapons, it had occurred to her that, in all probability, the men’s intent was merely to relieve their intended victims of any valuables they might be carrying and then to make themselves scarce. And, since she was more than willing to part with every single penny in her possession—as well as any other item of value that the men might have demanded—she would have been prepared to gamble that the easy acquisition of such an unexpectedly fulsome haul would have seen the two footpads very quickly on their way.

Tugging at Nicholas’s coat-tails, she flung her bulging reticule at her tormentor, at the same time urging her brother to sit down and be quiet. But it was too late.

As the metal tip of the whip’s leather thong struck him painfully on the cheekbone, the man who was at the horse’s head uttered an angry snarl and, letting go of the harness, raised his stick and flew at Nicholas in a rage. His initial burst of confidence instantly collapsing, the boy recoiled in dread, lost his balance on the gig’s narrow step and tumbled backwards into the roadway where he lay sprawled at the man’s feet, entirely at his mercy.

Seconds ticked past as the thug stood glaring down at Jessica’s now panic-stricken young brother and then, with a malicious grin on his face, he slowly raised his weapon in both hands, clearly intent upon inflicting some terrible punishment on the youth. Jessica’s hands went to her mouth in horror but, unable to prevent the frightened whimper that escaped her lips, she closed her eyes, threw up a fervent prayer and prepared herself for the worst.

All of a sudden, a single shot rang out in the silence. The stick fell from the ruffian’s hand as, letting out a howl of pain, he clutched at his bloodstained forearm. Then, without a backward glance, and followed closely by his equally terrified accomplice, he fled back in the direction from whence they had first appeared.

The sound of the two men crashing their way through the undergrowth was very quickly drowned out by the noise of fast-approaching hooves. Jessica, having almost fallen out of the carriage in her haste to reach her brother, sank to her knees at his side, begging him to speak to her. She barely registered the arrival of the mount’s rider who, having leapt from his steed, was now lifting her, none too gently, to her feet and thrusting her to one side.

‘Better let me see to him,’ he advised curtly. ‘He might have broken something.’

Jessica, who had been about to challenge the newcomer over his singularly high-handed manner, found herself hesitating. Although she could see only the back of the man’s head from her present position, his attractively deep voice, whilst rather brusque, was well modulated and she could tell by the cut of his riding jacket—which fitted across his broad shoulders to perfection—that he appeared to be a gentleman of means. She bit back the stinging riposte that had been forming and regarded him with some interest.

Pulling off his gloves, the stranger knelt beside Nicholas’s still-prone figure and began to run his hands over the boy’s body. After several minutes, during which time Jessica clasped her hands together tightly, scarcely daring to take a breath, the man knelt back on his heels and uttered a satisfied grunt.

‘No bones broken,’ he professed cheerfully. ‘My guess is that the lad has merely passed out—this should do the trick.’ And, extracting a small brandy flask from his inside pocket, he gently prised Nicholas’s lips apart and allowed a few drops of the spirit to trickle into the boy’s mouth.

Her eyes wide with apprehension, Jessica edged closer in order to better her view. As far as she could see, there seemed to be no appreciable change in her brother’s demeanour but then, quite suddenly, there came a slight choking sound and the boy’s eyes flew open.

‘W-wha’s happening?’ he croaked and, catching sight of his sister’s anxious face, he would have tried to sit up had not the stranger placed a restraining hand upon his chest.

‘Easy now, my boy. Gently does it.’

Jessica flew at once to her brother’s side.

‘Oh, Nicky, Nicky!’ she gasped. ‘Are you hurt?’

‘Just about everywhere!’ groaned Nicholas as, very gingerly, he forced his body into a sitting position and raised a hand to his throbbing head. ‘What happened?’ he queried, looking firstly towards his overjoyed sister and then up at their rescuer, who having risen, was holding out his hands to help the boy up.

‘Your attackers made off,’ was the man’s terse reply.

Nicholas frowned and, his mind still somewhat befuddled, shook his head. ‘I thought I heard a shot,’ he faltered. ‘But then—I suppose I must have passed out.’

After allowing the stranger to help him to his feet, Nicholas leant his trembling body against the side of the gig and, reaching out, took hold of his sister’s hand. ‘They didn’t hurt you, did they, Jess?’ he asked urgently. ‘I’ll never forgive myself—’

‘No harm done, I promise you!’ she returned, hurriedly patting his hand, then, after a moment’s hesitation, she gave him an apologetic smile. ‘Apart from the loss of all our money, that is,’ she added ruefully.

‘Oh, good,’ he replied, clearly still in something of a daze. ‘Hadn’t we best get on our way, then?’

Then, taking a deep breath, he straightened his shoulders, gripped hold of the gig’s side-rail and attempted to haul himself up on to the driving seat. Almost immediately, he felt himself swaying backwards and, had not a pair of powerful arms reached out and caught hold of him, he would surely have fallen to the ground once again.

‘A little premature, perhaps?’ suggested the stranger, with a sympathetic smile as, without apparent effort, he hoisted the boy on to the gig’s seat. ‘Hold tight, my lad. It looks as though we might have to secure you somehow. I must assume that your sister is capable of driving?’

Ignoring Jessica’s gasp of protest, the man walked over to his horse and, after extracting a length of rope from the saddlebag, returned to Nicholas’s side and calmly proceeded to strap the boy to the gig’s backrest. Then, standing back, he surveyed his efforts.

‘That should do.’ He gave a satisfied nod then, turning to Jessica, he offered her his hand. ‘Up you get, Miss Beresford. You need have no further fears of being set upon, I assure you—you will have my escort for the remainder of your journey.’

Fuming, but unable to find the words to express her indignation at the fellow’s arrogant assumption that she would be unable to cope without his further assistance, Jessica could only do as she was bid. It was not until she was in her seat and had taken up the reins that the thought occurred to her that the man had addressed her by name.

‘How do you suppose he knows who we are?’ she muttered to Nicholas in a low voice, as she watched the tall stranger vault nimbly into his saddle and swing his mount round. ‘Do you think he could be another felon—some sort of accomplice?’

‘Odd sort of accomplice to go shooting his comrades,’ returned her brother, who was feeling far from well. ‘Don’t be such a goose, Jess! The fellow has done us a good turn—though how the devil we are going to explain all this to Matt defies thinking about!’ Then, clasping his hand to his throbbing head, he begged, ‘Do let us get on!’

Chapter Two

For the first hundred yards or so, their escort remained behind the carriage, his clear grey eyes carefully scrutinising the terrain, both to the front and to the rear. Gradually, though, as the little party approached the more populated areas, the horseman drew closer and closer until, eventually, he was abreast of the gig. Then, after riding alongside in silence for some minutes, he spoke.

‘Your brother is recovering from his shock, I trust?’ he asked pleasantly.

‘He appears to be doing very nicely, thank you, sir,’ replied Jessica, without turning her head. Keeping her eyes firmly on the road ahead, she was pondering the man’s remark. How was it that he knew her name and how could he have known that Nicholas was her brother? That this man—whoever he might be—seemed to be in possession of so much information about their circumstances concerned and puzzled her greatly.

But then, as the silence between them continued at length, Jessica’s conscience began to smite her as, somewhat belatedly, it occurred to her that she had made no attempt to offer the man her gratitude for his timely intervention.

‘I fear that we are greatly in your debt, sir,’ she began primly, only to be interrupted by his smothered laugh. Swinging her head sideways, she glared at him. ‘Have I said something to amuse you, sir?’

‘Not at all, ma’am,’ he returned promptly. ‘I am glad that I was able to be of some service!’

Although his face was not turned in her direction, it was not difficult to see that it was creased in a wide grin. In the midst of her outrage, she was astonished to find herself thinking what a devilishly handsome creature he was when he smiled. Biting her lip in exasperation, she racked her brains to find a less stilted way of expressing her gratitude.

‘I simply cannot imagine why those men should have chosen to waylay us,’ she eventually managed. ‘I should not have thought that this shabby carriage was the sort of vehicle that would lend itself to a hold-up!’

‘It possibly had more to do with the way in which you were flashing your blunt, back at the Rose and Crown,’ he offered.

‘Flashing my…!’ For a moment, Jessica was lost for words, but then, as a most disturbing thought entered her head, she found herself filled with a desperate need to vanquish her sudden suspicions.

‘I take it, then,’ she said carefully, ‘that your arrival back there was not just some lucky coincidence?’

‘Hardly!’ was his astonishing reply. ‘I was right behind you from the moment you left the inn!’

Her heart sank. ‘W-why was that?’ she asked, unable to prevent the tremble in her voice.

‘Because of those two fellows,’ he replied casually. ‘I was aware that they had been watching you for some little while in the inn’s stable yard and then, when I saw them make off through the back woods, it seemed pretty clear to me what they were about.’

A flicker of relief ran through her, but then, ‘But why did you not see fit to warn us about them?’ she demanded indignantly.

There was a moment’s silence. ‘I rather got the impression that you were not the sort of young lady who would take kindly to a piece of friendly advice from a total stranger,’ he replied at last.