Page 27 of Her Wicked Highwayman
“Then let’s move into position.” Diana pulled her domino down over her face and adjusted the wig she’d had made to help disguise herself. Her men put on their own masks, then moved their horses closer to the road and waited as the coach came around a distant bend, headed straight toward them.
Diana was quite certain this coach had three wealthy,verydrunk men and one woman who was the mistress of one of the male passengers. Diana had waited two hours at the nearest coaching inn, listening, watching, choosing her first prey carefully. She’d spotted the men and their female companion dining and drinking to excess. That had helped make her choice. Drunken men were less likely to put up a decent fight if they chose to defend themselves. When she’d heard the men call for their coach to be brought around, she, Matthew, and Luke had raced to the stables, mounted up, and rode ahead to lie in wait.
Diana’s heart pounded like the drums of war as she gave the order to ride. She led the charge, pistol raised, as she stopped her horse in front of the coach, blocking its path on the road. The coach driver jerked at the reins and halted the coach.
“Stand and deliver!” she bellowed in her deepest voice, trying her best to imitate Tyburn’s Scottish accent. Even the blond wig was fashioned after Tyburn’s windswept style. It itched a little, but it did give her the look of Tyburn from a distance. Only her brown eyes and shorter height would give her away if anyone looked too closely. She’d decided she would stay on her horse whenever possible.
“Stay where ye are, driver, and stand up.” Matthew kept his gun aimed at the coach door. He nodded for Luke to join him. Luke slid out of his saddle and tapped the barrel of his pistol on the coach door, then flung it open, giving the occupants no time to resist.
“You four, out,now,” Luke ordered.
Three very drunken, confused men stumbled out. Luke offered his hand to the sole female passenger. She stared wide-eyed at the trio of thieves and trembled, her face paling.
Was this how I looked?Diana wondered as she stared at the woman. Unlike her male companions, she seemed to realize the danger they were in.
“Remove yer money and valuables,” Luke instructed, holding up leather pouches in front of the men.
“I say!” one of the drunken gentlemen began. “You have no right to take our money.” He pointed a finger at Luke but wavered on his feet due to the influence of his drinking.
“The presence of our guns says otherwise,” Diana replied, moving her horse closer. The height and natural strength of the beast made the men reflexively take a step back.
With muttered grumblings, the men surrendered their money and pocket watches. The woman, a rather pretty creature perhaps in her early thirties, surrendered her jewels without a fuss. As Diana maneuvered her horse back a little, the woman suddenly spoke to Diana.
“Are you him? The one Lady Society writes about? The charming highwayman?” There was a hint of feminine interest in the woman’s voice.
Diana almost laughed. Her plan to pose as Tyburn was apparently working.
“My lady, I am simply a common scoundrel. I sincerely doubt anyone would bother to write about me.” She shot a glance at her men. Matthew and Luke were ready to leave. They’d split the two pouches between them and tied them to the saddles of their horses. That way, if one of them was captured, it would prevent all the loot from being lost.
“Coachman, ye shall wait a quarter of an hour before ye continue on yer way. Someone will be watching.” With a quick nod to her men, she angled her horse away from the coach. Each was to take a different route home.
Diana rode into the darkness, diving into the woods out of sight of the coach. She headed east, whereas the coach would go north. Matthew would go south, and Luke would head west. They would each ride straight for a mile or so before they arced back toward home. She prayed she’d thought of everything,but only time would tell. Once they were confident in their performance, she would feel more comfortable adjusting their strategy, but for now, she was nervous enough that her stomach kept pitching south.
Diana rode for the full mile, glancing over her shoulder again and again until her neck ached. No one was following her. She turned toward home and marveled at the beauty of the night, the clouds and the hint of stars that the moon swallowed up during their progression across the sky.
The pit of dread in Diana’s stomach eased into a nervous fluttering. Finally, she drew in sight of Foxglove. She did not take the main road, but instead cut across the fields. She knew the paths back to the house better than anyone. She had shed blood on these lands. She had wept tears into the soil as she worked beside her tenant farmers. She’d given all but her life for this place and the people who dwelled here. She refused to think about the fact that she’d just stolen money that didn’t belong to her. What was one more sin if it took care of these people and the home she loved? She couldn’t give up, she just couldn’t.
The stables were lit by a single lantern, which drew her in like a beacon. Nelson was there waiting for her.
“My lady,” the elderly groom said as she rode into the meager patch of light at the entrance of the stables.
“I’m here.” It was so very quiet outside that she dared only whisper her next question. “Did the others make it back safely?”
“Yes, both lads have gone inside for the night. They wanted to stay out here, but I wouldn’t let them. Too many chances to be seen dressed black as night as they were. Let me take this beauty.” He grasped the mare’s reins, and the horse nickered softly and nudged the old groom’s shoulder with clear affection. Every beast, even the pigs, loved Nelson.
“Thank you, Nelson.” She slid out of the saddle and kissed the old man’s cheek. “Did the grooms have any trouble tonight?”
Her other two grooms had split duties pretending to be footmen while she and the others were away. She didn’t want any visitors, like Caddington, dropping by unannounced and noticing that she had lacked footmen in the house. He seemed the sort of man to notice a detail like that.
“No, my lady. It was a quiet night.”
“Thank heavens.”
Nelson patted the horse’s neck affectionately. “I’ll put this lady in her stall.”
“Then you must go to bed yourself,” she reminded him before she left the stables.
Just inside the front door, Mr. Peele and Mrs. Ripley were waiting for her. The housekeeper squeezed her in a tight hug.
