Page 16 of The Highwayman's Bite

He was dead.

A harsh, snarling noise pierced the graveyard silence. A sharp whimper escaped her lips. Then she saw Jeffries’s chest move up and down. The snarl rumbled in his throat.

Vivian gasped with relief. He was only asleep.

The realization drew her brows together in a frown of perplexed irritation. Was that why the horses had stopped? Jeffries was old, but far from his dotage. It was difficult to believe he’d doze off on a drive. She rose up on her tiptoes to sniff the man for the scent of spirits, and stiffened as one of the horses whickered.

Something didn’t sound right. Vivian turned and gasped.

The horses were no longer attached to the carriage!

Instead, they stood on the other side of the conveyance. Something large was draped over one of the geldings. Vivian went still.

Someone else was here. And they were stealing the horses. As she crept back to the carriage door, her mind raced and put it together. The thief must have put out the driver with chloroform or some sedating drug. And then he must have pulled the reins and unfastened the horses.

But how had he carried off such a brazen stunt so quickly? Vivian struggled to puzzle it out. There must be more than one thief.

Madame Renarde was still in the carriage. Worry twisted Vivian’s belly into a tight knot. Neither of them had their swords. But perhaps the footman still had his pistol. Indecision froze her in place. Should she check the driver for a weapon? Or go back to Madame Renarde and hope they could steal away unmolested?

Closing her eyes, she fought to keep her head clear. Her companion must come first. Perhaps Madame Renarde had seen the thieves and had hidden from them. Maybe that was why she hadn’t followed her out of the carriage in the first place.

As Vivian grasped the door handle, she vowed that she’d never go anywhere without a weapon again. Propriety be damned. After all, the last time she’d had a blade in her hand, she’d fought off a highwayman. A rush of dizzy heat flushed her face as she remembered their duel and his kiss.

Then the dreamy recollection was doused with a cold thought. What if it was him?

Immediately she dismissed the speculation. If the rake had wanted to steal horses, he would have done so when they were far from the village. All that thief had been interested in was money and jewels...and a kiss

She needed to stop thinking about that rogue, Vivian thought as she slowly pulled the carriage door open. She needed to make sure Madame Renarde was all right.

The carriage was empty. The door on the other side hung open. Vivian’s heart leapt into her throat. Did Madame Renarde escape? Or had the thieves abducted her?

Crouching beside the carriage, she strained to listen for an indication as to where the thieves were. She heard one of the horses snort. Shouldn’t they be off by now? What if they were lying in wait for her?

Vivian crept back around to the driver’s perch. Jeffries continued to snore. She tried to shake him awake, but he didn’t respond. What sort of substance could put a man in such a deep slumber? Fear flickered in her heart like a dark flame. Whoever had done this was dangerous.

A horse whickered again. Vivian peered closer at the load on the gelding’s back. Her jaw dropped as she recognized the shape. It was Madame Renarde! Somehow, the thieves had knocked her unconscious and were going to abduct her!

Vivian had to rescue her. Slowly, she reached inside the sleeping footman’s jacket until her hand closed over the butt of his pistol.

With her back pressed against the carriage, Vivian crept closer to the horses. There was no sound or sight of the thieves, that grew more unnerving, the closer she got. The skin between her shoulder blades trickled with sweat as she felt like they were watching her from somewhere.

When she reached Madame Renarde, relief doused a measure of her terror as she saw that her friend still breathed. Though it had to be difficult for her, lying on her stomach over the horse’s back. Vivian cringed in sympathy. Her companion’s stays had to be digging into her ribs.

With the gun held against her hip, Vivian pondered how she could go about her rescue. If Madame Renarde was drugged like Jeffries, Vivian would be unable to wake her.

And she certainly couldn’t carry her. Her friend was fairly large-boned.

Vivian peered around the carriage. Still no thieves in sight. What if she could just lead the horse away? Perhaps, if they hid in the grove of trees to the east, the thieves would leave with the other horse and Vivian and Madame Renarde could ride to safety.

Dismay weighted Vivian’s shoulders. The grove looked further away on second glance. And she felt so exposed on this stretch of the road, far from the next estate and even further from the village.

Grasping the horse’s bridle, she started toward the trees.

A low, silken voice spoke behind her, achingly familiar. “Going somewhere?”

Vivian turned around and gasped. “You!”

The highwayman stepped closer to her with a wry grin. He bowed with a flourish. “How lovely to see you again, Miss Stratford.”

---