Page 35 of A Wicked Earl's Widow
The dog stopped at the edge of the field. “This must be where they mounted.” Nathaniel swallowed. What if they couldn’t pick up a scent? They’d never find her if they didn’t know what direction Landonshire had taken.
Cyrano circled a wide area several times, put his nose in the air again, and circled once more. With a mournful howl, he set off with his nose to the ground toward the river.
“He’s got it!” cried Maxwell. Peering down at the spot the dog had sniffed so enthusiastically, he pointed. “Look, pebbles. The same type from the garden path.”
Nate let out the breath he’d been holding. “God’s bones, she’s left a trail.”
“Clever girl,” the steward said. “Now let’s see how far we can follow it.”
They came upon a stream and found a pale blue ribbon on the other side. When they had to jump a small ditch, a glove had been left to mark the direction.I’m coming, love. Stay strong.If he could give the canine wings, he would. Every minute could be another blow of pain to Eliza. His fingers squeezed the reins, his knuckles white.
As the trio came upon the picnic spot, dread filled Nate’s belly. How long had the marquess been watching them? His suspicions were confirmed when a final ribbon lay at the entrance of the woods.
“Bloody hell, she’s at the woodcutter’s shed.” He spurred the gelding and they cantered into the shade, Cyrano sprinting behind, his bay echoing against the trees trunks.
Nathaniel was off the horse before it came to a stop. From inside the shed, they heard a scream and then a female voice shout, “I’ll see you in hell!”
“I’m not going alone, you ungrateful whore.”Landonshire!
He retrieved the pistol from his saddle bag and pulled the hammer back, fully cocked. Maxwell kicked open the door, wood splintering under the force of his boot, and both men entered, pistols raised. As Nate’s eyes adjusted to the light, a horrific scene unfolded before him.
Eliza sat on a chair, her wrists bound; Landonshire held a knife to her throat while his wife aimed a pistol at his chest. A trio of long bloody scratches marred his left cheek. Then all hell broke loose. Their entrance distracted the marquess. As he turned, the knife scraped Eliza’s skin, blood oozing from the cut. Lady Landonshire shrieked. A pistol shot reverberated against the timber walls, Landonshire stumbled but stayed upright.
“You shot me!” he yelled in fury. His hand went to his chest. He stared at the blood dripping from his fingers in disbelief. “You’ll pay for that.” He raised his arm, the knife point aimed at Eliza.
Nate pulled the trigger. The second shot hit Landonshire squarely in the forehead. He wavered for a moment, mouth slack, eyes in shock then collapsed in a dull crash.
Nathaniel dropped the flintlock and ran to Eliza, scooped her in his arms, and rocked her back and forth. She sobbed, gasping for breath and clutching at his jacket. “Shhh, it’s all right. I have you. You’re safe. Your mother is safe.” He kissed the top of her head and continued to murmur soft words in her ear until she calmed.
Maxwell carried Lady Landonshire to the bed and gently laid her on the counterpane. She whimpered at each movement, and the steward cursed as he tried to tend her wounds. He pulled a knife from his belt and cut the rope binding her wrists then did the same for her daughter. Returning to the bed, he said gently, “I apologize, my lady, but I need to raise the hem of your dress and stop the bleeding in your thighs.” He had removed his cravat and torn it in half. She nodded and emitted a quiet moan as he applied pressure to the punctures in her legs. “Hold these if you can, my lady, and I’ll fetch some cold water.”
She nodded and smiled weakly. “My daughter?”
“I’m fine, Mama. Please do as he asks,” Eliza said from across the room.
Her voice was weak but clear and Nathaniel whispered a silent prayer. “Yes, let’s get you cleaned up also.” Maxwell returned with a bucket of water from the well. Using the handkerchief that had been her gag, Nate wiped the blood from Eliza’s neck.
“Is he…”
He nodded. “He won’t ever hurt you again.”
“Please, help my mother. She’s much worse than I am and has lost too much blood.”
He nodded but didn’t move. Relief seeped through him like honey, sweet and satisfying. She was in his arms again and he was reluctant to let her go. But the dead man next to him, lying in a puddle of blood, assured him that she was safe.
Eliza touched his cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered, and went slack in his arms.
“She fainted,” Nate announced.
“It has been a trying day,” agreed Maxwell. He turned to the marchioness. “A wagon is on its way. I’m afraid the ride back will not be pleasant for you.”
“My dear sir, the bumpiest of wagons could not compare to the trials I have been through. Do not worry yourself on that account.” Pain threaded her voice but her blue eyes were clear. “Today I have been emancipated. I can bear a bit more discomfort.”
Nathaniel nodded at his future mother-in-law. A howl outside alerted them to the arrival of the wagon. He rose, adjusting Eliza in his arms. She was alive. That was all that mattered. And today would be the first day of the rest of their lives.
Chapter Sixteen
Two days later
