Page 71 of Miss Prim and the Duke of Wylde
Drago set his jaw and took great delight in slinging a roundhouse punch that connected with a satisfyingthudwith the head of the second man, who had tried to grab Meg.
That man reeled back, and Drago swung around, expecting the first man to come at him again.
Instead, in a shambling run, that man barreled straight past Drago, seized his partner by the arm, and dragged him away. The pair fell into a stumbling run along the pavement.
The instinct to give chase had Drago on his toes, but…
Meg.
He glanced back to see that she was standing, shocked, only a few paces away, and except for him, she was more or less unprotected.
Looking back at the escaping thugs, he watched the pair veer between two stationary carriages and stumble onto the road, where a nondescript black carriage waited, the driver holding his horses on a tight rein.
The pair tumbled into the coach. “Go! Go!” one of them yelled, and the driver lowered his hands, and the horses bolted. The carriage rocketed past, careening on around the curve of the carriageway.
His hands on his hips, Drago exhaled, then he shook out his coat, resettled his sleeves, and walked back to Meg. She’d swung around, following the carriage with her gaze. He ducked to look into her face. “Are you all right?”
She focused on him, then nodded. “Yes.” Her gaze raced over his features. “Thanks to you.” She blinked. “Again.”
A chill gripped his spine as the implications of what had just occurred rolled through his mind, but he kept all hint of reaction from his face. Calmly, he took her arm and wound it—safely—with his. “We do seem to be making a habit of this.” It wasn’t a habit he liked.
At the time of the attack, the only others on the pavement had been nursemaids or ladies with their children. Everyone was shocked, but now, several footmen and a few gentlemen who had been within the park and had seen what had occurred came up to inquire after their state.
Drago and Meg reassured all who asked and did their best to douse all interest.
When they were finally free to stroll back to Pru, Meg murmured, “I didn’t see anyone from our circle, did you?”
Drago shook his head. “Let’s hope the news doesn’t make the rounds.”
Pru was still wide-eyed, but for Dougal’s sake, she found a smile. Looking down at her son, she said, “See? They’re both unharmed.”
Halting before Pru, Drago smiled and nodded to Dougal. “We are, indeed, perfectly all right.” With a glance, he took in the serious faces of the nursemaid and footman, both of whom had come running to protect their mistress and young master. In accepted fashion, the pair had been trailing behind their charges—too far, in this instance, to have been of any help, but then who expected an abduction attempt at the gates of Regent’s Park?
“It might be best,” Drago suggested with what he thought was quite remarkable calm, “if Meg and I return to Wylde House.” He focused on Pru. “You might let your husband and father know what occurred and that we’ll be there.”
Pru blinked, then her chin firmed, and she nodded. “An excellent idea. I’ll tell the others.”
She looked along the pavement toward the waiting carriages and waved, and the Glengarah carriage drew out of the line and came rolling up, closely followed by Milton, carefully managing the grays.
Drago and Meg waited until Pru and Dougal climbed inside their carriage, along with the nursemaid, then leaving the footman to shut the carriage door, Drago led Meg to his curricle. He helped her to the seat, then rounded the horses, accepted the reins from Milton, stepped up, and sat.
Keeping his mind ruthlessly focused on what he was doing—on driving his horses and negotiating the traffic through town to Park Lane—gave him time to come to grips with the possessive protectiveness that was coursing so powerfully through his veins.
He knew what it was he felt; he even knew why. He just hadn’t expected to feel it so intensely, to the point where he found it all but impossible to take a step back and view the incident from a wider perspective.
To the point where the only thing that mattered was protecting Meg.
She’d been silent as he drove through the streets, but as they turned onto Park Lane, she blew out a breath. “That was an attempted abduction, wasn’t it?”
His jaw clenched so hard, he was amazed it didn’t crack. After a moment, he managed a nod. “Yes.”
Meg frowned. “But you were right there. Obviously, you would defend me. Making a bid to seize me there makes little sense.”
Drago checked his horses to a slow walk. “I wasn’t supposed to be there, and if you think of how we were standing just before those thugs tried to seize you, they might well have thought I was Pru’s husband and that I would act to protect her and Dougal rather than immediately move to free you.”
She was aware of tension rolling off him in waves. She studied his face. “What is it?”
After a second, he met her gaze. Usually dark and warm, his eyes seemed almost black, and his gaze was as hard as obsidian. “If,” he bit out, “I hadn’t been there, hadn’t, purely on the off chance, come to find you, and they had succeeded… Think about it.” His face as hard as granite, he shifted his gaze forward and flicked the reins. “If they’d stolen you away even for an hour, I wouldn’t have been able to marry you.”
