Page 12 of The Banished Bride
His gaze swept the room. The knife was too far away. But if he could edge toward the door, he might be able to escape down the stairs and elude any pursuit. A stoneware pitcher on the small table by his bedside was the last thing his eyes came to. He grabbed it up and in one motion flung at the intruder’s midriff. It doubled him over for an instant, just long enough for Alex to make a lunge for the opening. However the man was quick enough to recover and lash out with a booted foot. The blow caught him hard on the side of the knee just as he reached the half open door, knocking him to the floor. By rolling to one side, Alex managed to avoid another nasty kick, then regained his feet, though now he was farther than before from any means of escape..
In India he had learned a number of tricks for self defense that depended on technique rather than strength. When his assailant came at him, the earl managed to take hold of the man’s elbow, and in a blur of spinning limbs, flung him against the iron bedstead. There was a growl of pain, a muttered oath and then the intruder came at him again, this time a bit more cautiously.
“Oh! I—I thought you might be having a nightmare.” Aurora was framed in the doorway, her wrapper pulled tightly round her willowy form, a thick plait of hair hanging down over one shoulder.
Another low laugh. “It appears your reputation with the ladies is not unfounded. I see you have wasted no time in finding someone to … minister to your needs.”
“Nice little piece, isn’t she?” Alex showed his teeth, hoping they wouldn’t be knocked down his throat by the newest entrant in the fray. “Now sweeting, go back to your room. I don’t have need of you just yet. But when you return, bring your friend, why don’t you. She’s got some flint to her, despite her rather long nose.” He didn’t dare take his eyes from his adversary, but he hoped the message was clear enough. The young lady had shown no lack of wits up to this point.
There was the barest of a pauses. “Whatever you wish, sir. After all, you are the one paying for everything.”
He certainly was, he thought, rubbing at his wounded shoulder. A pound of flesh had already been extracted, aside from the guineas that had been spent. The Lord only knew what price he would have to pay for implying she was a doxie, on top of having accused her of being a traitor and a spy.
“You’re right—you won’t have need of her where you are going,” said his assailant with a low laugh. “But I might fancy a tumble when I’m finished with you. Her driver informs me the chit is a long way from home, and quite alone now that her companion has stayed behind with a relative. No doubt she could use a protector to fend off any unwanted attentions.”
Damnation.Alex swore to himself. It was his fault the young lady had been dragged into this dangerous affair. Now he would have to make sure that not only her reputation but her person emerged unscathed.
A moment later, she reappeared, the long snout of the pistol silhouetted against the white of her wrapper. “I take you wish to caress my friend Manton first, sir?”
Alex couldn’t help but grin. “Hand her over—but I owe you a kiss, sweeting.”
The sound of breaking glass shattered the stillness. One more kick cleared the shards and splinters enough for the cloaked figure to slip through the broken window and drop to the ground below. By the time Alex reached the sill, the dark shape had already crossed the yard and disappeared into the copse of trees.
He turned back, ready to be roundly castigated for his ungentlemanly words. Recalling her earlier outrage at having her patriotism called into question, he winced to think of how she might react to such an insult to her virtue.
A giggle was, therefore, not what he expected. Yet a giggle was all such a burbling sound could properly be called. Hand over her mouth, she sought to stifle the worst of it.
One of his brows arched in question.
“S-sorry. It’s just that—” Another whoop cut off her words for a moment. “—that you look very funny, with your great, hairy legs sticking out of that ridiculous sack of a nightshirt.”
Alex looked down. The garment barely reached his knees and was wider that the topsail of a thirty-gun frigate. With the breeze coming in from the smashed window, it threatened to sail even higher. He had to suppress a laugh of his own, though in truth, he was beginning to tire of appearing a bumbling nodcock in her eyes. First, she had sneered at his intelligence. And now? It was a new—and unsettling—feeling to have a female reduced to giggles at the sight of him in a bedroom.
He had better start showing to better advantage, he decided, else the next thing she was going to start questioning was his manhood.
Which was soon going to be on full display if he didn’t don his breeches in short order.
In two strides he was by her side, hand clamped around her arm. “You may laugh all you like, but later. Right now you have three minutes to dress and gather your things.” Propelling her out the door, he added, ”After that, whether you are clad or unclad, we are leaving.”
“But—”
“No arguments!” It was the tone he used with new recruits, the one that caused knees to quake and nervous fingers to check that every button was done up. “You are only wasting your seconds.” His head ducked close to her ear, and the tantalizing scent of lavender clinging to the sinuous braid falling across her breast. Somehow, he couldn’t resist murmuring, “I should prefer the latter, but it is up to you.”
The spark of molten fire that flashed in her eyes was no surprise. But the fact that her jaw clamped shut and she did as she was told was a small miracle. Perhaps he was making some headway, despite his great, hairy legs.
Funny, other ladies had found his long legs particularly attractive.
Following his own orders, Alex grabbed up his clothes from the chair in the corner, noticing that not only were his breeches freshly laundered but somehow she had managed to procure a new shirt, unsullied by blood or bullet holes. The jacket had also been replaced with one that did not smell as if it had been doused with a keg of ale.
Lud, was there nothing the young lady could not accomplish with frightening efficiency?
Certainly her speed in dressing could not be faulted. Just as his knuckles were about to rap on her door, she appeared—fully clothed, he noted with a twinge of regret—and with her small valise done up and by her side. Oh, a few buttons hadbeen missed, and the high collar of her gown was slightly askew, but other than that, she looked eminently presentable.Too presentable.Behind her, in the shadows of her tiny chamber, the bed was a rumple of sheets and he found himself wanting nothing so much as to lay her down upon their languorous folds and bestow the promised kiss. And then another and another, until she was not laughing at his legs anymore but gasping his name in sweet moans as he drank in the honeyed taste of her mouth …
“I thought we were in a hurry,” she snapped.
His eyes jerked up from where they had been fastened on the swell of her bosom and hint of nipple showing through the dark muslin. “Right,” he rasped, his throat unaccountably dry. Taking hold of her bag in one hand and her arm in the other, he hurried their steps down the stairs and to the front door.
“The window …” she began.
