Page 8 of Her Wicked Highwayman
“Wait! Let me do it.” She reached up to undo the clasp, then she cupped it in her gloved palm. He raised the pouch up for her, but rather than drop it into the pouch, she blew out a fast breath, which created a small space between her breasts and the bodice of her gown. She dropped the necklace into the valley of her bosom, then inhaled, preventing the man from being able to reach the pearl.
“Why, ye little—” The thief halted at whatever insult he’d intended and scowled, his blue eyes frosting like a lake in winter. “That wasna a clever thing to do, lass.”
“There is no way you can get to it now,” Diana declared.
“Ye think so, lass? Now ye’ve gone and tempted me.” He eyed her clothes with a measuring look that took her by surprise.
Oh dear Lord... She’d made a terrible mistake. No gentleman would have taken that as a challenge.
“But you are a gentlemen! You wouldn’t dare.” She’d read about highwaymen in the papers. They were often men of noble or gentle birth who had fallen upon hard times or circumstances that forced them to resort to thievery. The ones she’d read about were not callous murderers, and they hardly ever forced themselves on women.
“My friends may be gentlemen, butIam not, lass. Iwillhave that necklace, even if I must strip every inch of clothing off yer body to get it.” He reached up and grasped her throat with a gloved hand. He didn’t squeeze, but held her trapped betweenhis powerful fingers. A shot of wild heat ripped through her body and she gasped, but not from fear. His possessive, dominating hold on her neck should have terrified her, but rather it only excited her.
I must be mad... truly mad,she thought.
His hand moved to the nape of her neck as he forced her to walk away from the others.
“What are you doing?” Edwin and Claude both shouted. “You cannot abduct a lady!”
“’Tis exactly what I’m doing,” Tyburn growled as he pushed Diana toward his horse. The moment he reached the steed, he picked her up and tossed her over the saddle. She scrambled to catch hold of the reins and briefly envisioned riding off, but he quickly mounted up behind her and seized the reins from her hands. He tucked his pistol inside his coat, well out of her reach.
“Keep a watch on them, Oxford. Then take the third route back to our meeting place,” Tyburn ordered. The man he’d called Oxford nodded. When Tyburn and the third man urged their horses forward, they reached a full gallop after only a few moments.
Diana clutched the horse’s mane, trying not to fall, but Tyburn wrapped an arm around her tight and jerked her back against him. He seemed to be quite used to riding with a hostage in front of him. His long legs settled against her own, his thighs pressing in against hers. She could tell he was laying a hard path to follow, given the varied terrain he took them over, which was far from any roads. It would be hard to track them.
Oxford, she realized, would leave yet another trail to confuse anyone who might come searching for them. Still, Diana did her best to memorize everything she saw. Although much of the countryside looked the same to her, there were places she felt she could remember if pressed.
They rode for half an hour, then slowed their horses in the middle of a field and stopped.
“Why have we stopped?” she asked.
“Cambridge, the blindfold, if you please.” Tyburn pointed to the third man’s waist. Cambridge removed a strip of black cloth from a pocket in his greatcoat and urged his horse next to Tyburn to hand it to him.
“No!” She tried to duck and slide off the horse’s back, but Tyburn held her still with his iron band of an arm. Cambridge manhandled her until he had a grasp on her head and neck. His touch then gentled as he wrapped the blindfold over her eyes. Then her wrists were bound together with another bit of cloth. She wanted to fight, but she wasn’t a fool. If she fell now, bound and blind, she could be trampled by their tall, powerful horses. It was better to bide her time and pretend she was compliant. Once she found out where they had their hideout, she would develop a plan for escape.
The two men were silent as they rode for another length of time. This was harder for her to measure because she was unable to see her surroundings. All she had was the heat of Tyburn’s body behind her and the sound of the horses’ hooves pounding upon the ground.
The rain finally came in driving sheets that soaked her to the bone, but she made no protest. She still had her pride. Still, she couldn’t stop herself from shivering. Her captor seemed to feel it because Tyburn pulled his coat close around her. But it wasn’t large enough to cover them both.
“We havena much farther to go, lass. I’ll warm ye up when we are inside,” he murmured in her ear. She found herself nodding, and her teeth began to chatter.
When they finally stopped, he slid off the horse behind her and helped her down. He then swept her up in his arms as though she were a child and carried her across a threshold,where the rain became muted and ceased to pelt down on her skin. He settled her onto something warm, which she sank back into. An old overstuffed chair, perhaps? The scents she breathed in were clean, no hint of must, nor did she hear the sounds of other people around save for herself and her captors.
The blindfold was removed. Diana blinked as her eyes adjusted to the dim light around her. It appeared to be some sort of hunting lodge, given the rustic look of the furniture, including the chair he’d set her down on. It was cozy and felt lived in, but most certainly by bachelors. It had no feminine touches, no draperies, nor matching fabrics.
The two highwaymen moved to a corner of the room and spoke in low tones while stealing glances at her. Then, the one called Cambridge nodded and left the lodge. She saw him through one of the windows as he walked the horses to a nearby stable.
“Now, lass, what am I to do with ye?” Tyburn mused as he came to stand in front of her. She shrank back in the chair, then despised herself for showing such fear, so she raised her chin and met his gaze with a stubborn glare of her own.
Tyburn was tall, and his pale-gold hair turned to a burnished filigree with the rain. His domino still concealed most of his face. In this light, she could see clearly that his eyes were a piercing blue and those sensual lips were too lush for a man’s mouth.
“You shouldn’t have taken me. The others will send the authorities after you.” She tested the restraints that bound her wrists. It only pulled tighter at her struggles.
“I suppose they will. But until they come to yer rescue, I plan to have that necklace, kitten, and ye will give it to me one way or another.” His gaze rolled over her body, and she trembled. “Lucky for me, getting ye out of those wet clothes is to yer advantage. Let no one say ye caught yer death in my arms.” He chuckled as if at some private joke.
Then he leaned over and braced his palms on either side of her chair, staring down at her. She stared back, refusing to flinch this time. She was not some shrinking violet. She was as rough and hardy as a dandelion.
Tyburn reached for her wrists, removing the binding and rubbing them to soothe the red marks that Cambridge had left when he’d tied the rope hastily around her.
