Page 10 of A Wicked Earl's Widow
Mrs. Stanley, still on the ground and clutching her burlap bag, hooted in vengeful glee with each smack of the whip. Gideon dismounted and approached the footpad from the rear, who now lay crouched in a ball against the onslaught. Nate came up behind the frantic woman and grabbed her wrist. The swirl of her deep blue traveling coat brushed his thighs, and he pulled her close to avoid being struck with the dangling leather.
She turned, the other hand coming up to slap his face. He squinted, tipping his head so his cheek took the brunt of it, and seized her other wrist to swing her around. She confronted him with violet eyes darkened by rage and locked her intense glare on his face. Nate’s gaze traveled from the flushed cheeks to the creamy bosom, rising and falling as her breath came in short pants. A whiff of peppermint tickled his nostrils as she struggled for air. He lingered over the full quivering lips and wide unseeing eyes. Despite her anger and bravado with a whip, those lovely orbs held fear and desperation. And something else… Retribution? It tore at his soul like the frightened doe he’d found one summer surrounded by the neighbor’s hounds, guarding her dead fawn against all odds.
When her fingers turned to claws, he pulled her close again. A child screamed for its mama, and the woman blinked, long pale lashes sparkling with tears. He wanted to scoop her up and murmur comforting words in her ear. Smooth the anxiety from her brow. Then fate granted his wish, and her legs gave way. He lifted her in his arms before her body slumped to the ground. A plump woman with a mess of graying auburn hair emerged from the carriage.
“My lady. Oh my poor mistress.” She wiped her sweating forehead with a handkerchief, struggling to hold on to the toddler with her free hand. She lost the battle.
“Mama,” the small girl cried as she yanked her wrist away and ran to Nate, tripping only once on the hem of her little sky blue frock.
“Wet go. Shemymama. No hurt my mama.” The little upstart pummeled his thigh with her fists. By God, if she didn’t take after her mother.
“I’m saving her from the bad man, not causing her harm.” The dead weight in his arms tossed her head against his chest and moaned softly. Without thought, his hold tightened around the limp form.
“Oh.” The girl’s fist stopped midair, and she tilted her head. “Mama good?”
Her bottom lip trembled and tears turned her huge round eyes indigo. She was a fetching little chit.
“Yes, my little hellion, Mama is good.”
“I somehow feel you’ve got the better end of this bargain.” Gideon held the torn and bleeding ruffian by the back of his coat collar, one arm pulled behind the attacker’s back. “You’re the hero, and I’m in need of a bath.” Gideon’s disheveled cravat carried the same dirt and traces of blood as his once-pristine white shirt and gray riding coat.
Nate ignored his friend and hid a grin as he turned to the traveling companion. “I am Viscount Pendleton, at your service. May I set your mistress inside the coach?”
She nodded. “She is Lady Eliza, the Dowager Countess of Sunderland, and her daughter Lady Althea.”
“Relation of the Earl of Sunderland?” he asked. The earl’s castle was only a long day’s ride on a fast horse. Two by carriage.
“Yes, my lord. The earl is her brother-in-law.”
She stepped aside, picked up Althea, and allowed him entry to the carriage. Nate ducked his head low, his chin perilously close to the lady’s cleavage, and laid her gently across the seat. Peeling off his riding coat, he rolled it up and placed it gently beneath her head. Long lashes fluttered against her now pale cheeks.
So this must be Grace’s cousin, the widow. Grace had lived at Boldon Estate and they’d grown up together. His family had attended her wedding when she married Christopher, the present Earl of Sunderland. He had tragically inherited the title when his twin brother fell from a horse and broke his neck, leaving behind a pregnant wife. This unconscious woman. He looked out at the curious little girl again. The child had her father’s coloring and her mother’s tenacity. The youngster had stopped her whimpering and now focused a curious stare on him.
He squatted beside Lady Sunderland and stroked her damp cheek to push away a wet blonde lock. The fury no longer hardened her features, giving her a completely contrary appearance. Her face now showed gentle breeding and a soft nature. She was a total conundrum. Fierce yet fragile, terrified yet valiant—and utterly stunning. Nate exited the carriage, his pulse racing.
“I must see to Mrs. Stanley,” he explained with a nod of his head in the victim’s direction.
It took a few minutes to get Mrs. Stanley on her feet and a complete retelling of the debacle. “My side will be sore and bruised but nothing broken,” she assured Lord Pendleton. “Oh, that poor tortured soul. Did ye see those eyes, my lord? She’s fighting demons of her own.”
Gideon had tended the driver’s shoulder. In turn, the coachman found a rope to tie the footpad’s wrists and ankles. He now lay face down on the back of the carriage, securely fastened. His back was a crisscross of shredded wool, ripped skin and congealing blood.
“The coachman’s pistol wound is superficial, and he says he’s able to drive. But what will we do with that bloody cur?” asked Gideon, his tone telling Nate exactly what he’dliketo do to him.
“We’ll send for the constable. In the meantime, he can stay at the blacksmith’s tied up to a post.” Nate helped the governess, who identified herself as Mrs. Watkins, and little Althea into the carriage. This time, the child grinned at him. Her dark curls bounced as she climbed the steps one tiny foot at a time and gripped his fingers for balance.
“Me do mysewf.” Althea took the last step then reached for a doll on the cushioned bench. She held it to her chest as the revived Lady Sunderland, now sitting up, lifted Althea onto her lap.
“I-I cannot thank you enough for rescuing us, sir,” she said in a husky but strained voice. His angel smiled weakly and held out her hand. “I feel at a disadvantage, not knowing my rescuer.”
“I am Lord Pendleton, and you fended off the villains on your own.” He bowed.How could this be the same woman who just beat a man to a pulp?“I assume you are traveling to Sunderland Castle. May I suggest you stop at my home and freshen up after your ordeal? I am well acquainted with Lady Grace and will send word to Lord Sunderland that you have been delayed.”
“You know my cousin?” Strength returned to her voice and now her smile was genuine. “It’s been too long since I have seen her.”
“Yes, our families are neighbors, and we played together since I was in a skeleton suit and she in short frocks.”
Her lips turned up slightly at the mention of the childhood outfits. “Well, then we would appreciate your assistance very much.”
“Would you mind if Mrs. Stanley rode along with you? She’s the healer in our village. Perhaps the short ride will ease her concern for you, and she can thank you for your intervention. And after the treatment she’s received, I’d rather she didn’t walk.”
