“And you’re going to stand by and let that happen?”
Richard slammed one of his fists into Thorne’s old, battered kitchen table. “Even if she accepts the protection of my name, who’s going to protect her while I’m gone?”
“As a matter of fact, I have a suggestion. I’ve introduced myself to your father over in County Meath by letter, and we’ve been exchanging correspondence.”
“My father?” Richard’s mouth hung open. He realized he’d talked extensively to Thorne about his father the many nights they’d shared time around the fire before bed. But he distinctly remembered also telling Thorne he and his father hadn’t spoken in at least ten years.
“Why would you want that quarrelsome old toast underfoot?
“He’s a washed up warrior sod like me. Your youngest brother just married and left home, and he’s lonely. I think we might rub along together well. And what we lack in youth and strength, I suspect we could more than make up for in treachery. We could watch over your family at the lodge.”
Richard leaned back his head and roared in laughter. “You two are so much alike, this cottage would probably crumble down over your ears before I get back from Africa.”
“Oh, I don’t know. If we pool our pensions, maybe we could hire a housekeeper, maybe a young, pretty one from Falmouth. She could keep us up to snuff, so to speak.”
“If you bring a pretty, young woman around Major Liam Bourne, you’ll both be the scandal of Falmouth within a day. Lady Harriet would kill us all.”
Richard sobered then and brought up what both of them had been avoiding. “Since you’ve heard my stories of my father, you also know we’ve never been able to tolerate each other’s company for more than an hour or so without a huge argument or coming to fists.”
“There is that, but sometimes, a man has to make sacrifices to ensure his family’s safe while he’s half a world away.”
Richard was silent for a few long moments and then said, “None of these dreams curling out of your pipe smoke mean anything if she won’t have me. How do I convince her?”
“Good heavens, man, I have no idea. I say we march down that hill so you can ask her yourself.”
Richard groaned.Saints preserve Ireland.That was the only advice Thorne had to give? He’d asked the woman once, now he’d have to grovel again, and this time, she’d better say yes. The area of Ireland near Dublin where the Bournes had lived for generations had families who’d intermarried with Vikings. If she pushed him too hard, he might turn into a berserker and carry her off.
Harriet restedher chin on the palm of her hand and gazed out at the forest passing by the carriage window along the narrow road to Bocollyn House. Huge, old-growth oaks leaned toward each other overhead, forming a tunnel made lighter by most of the leaves having turned autumnal shades. In addition, the Cornwall winds had relieved the branches of most of the dried-out leaves.
After the depressing afternoon she’d had in the company of the disgusting Viscount Grantham, she had no idea what she’d say to Sidmouth. Marrying his disgusting old neighbor was out of the question. All Sidmouth had considered was seeing her safe so that he’d no longer have to worry about her and Nicholas. He hadn’t considered what an arse the man was. She realized women had very little say over the fate of their own lives, but she’d be damned if she’d let a monster like Grantham send her son away to live among strangers before he was ready.
Across from her, Nicholas nodded in a half sleep. The mastiffs lay across the carriage seat and warmed both him and Thomas. She was considering closing her own eyes when a shot rang out and then two more before the carriage leaned hard to the side of the road and came to a jaw-cracking halt amongst the trees beyond the path. Thomas immediately took Nicholas to the floor of the carriage and covered him with his body. Fleur and Max joined them and barked frantically before settling into menacing growls.
Harriet did not need to look out the window to see who was behind the shots and the attack on her carriage.Julian. In a deliberate move, she reached for her bow and the quiver of arrows she always traveled with. She slipped out the door closest to the trees where they’d landed and took up a post nearby.
Two men she’d never seen before approached the other side of the coach. She took careful aim, and one of them collapsed, screaming curses, with one of her arrows buried deep beneath his right shoulder. She notched a second arrow and struck the other man solidly in his stomach. He immediately gripped the arrow and jerked it loose only to howl in agony.
Before she could notch a third arrow, someone slipped out of the thick copse of trees and wrenched her bow arm behind her.
He dragged her around to the other side of the carriage and yanked her arm up behind her until Thomas barreled through the carriage door only to be taken out by a fourth man.
Nicholas, of course, followed after closing the door to keep the dogs safe inside. He jumped out and lunged at his uncle. “L-let my m-m-mother go,” he yelled.
“That’s exactly what I’ll do, Lord Blandford. We don’t need her anyway, do we? Lord Julian Blandford threw Harriet down to the ground so hard, her ears rang. And then he dragged a kicking, screaming Nicholas into his carriage before calling to the driver to speed away.
After Harriet regained the power of breathing and thought, she crawled over to Thomas to make sure he was still alive. The mastiffs inside the carriage had set up an unholy howl. Her footman moaned and tried to sit up. He would be fine. Her driver was another matter. Mr. Morgan was bleeding heavily from a gunshot wound in his thigh. She needed to get to Bocollyn. Anger stoked within her at the thought of the fear Nicholas was probably experiencing at that very moment, but she couldn’t go after him without Sidmouth’s help.
“Thomas—please help me get Mr. Morgan down from the driver’s seat before he passes out and falls.” After they had him on the ground, Thomas retrieved a heavy blanket and pulled out the squabs from the carriage seats as cushions for the man’s head. He wound the blanket around his bleeding thigh and Harriet helped him tighten it over the wound. That would have to do until they could get him to a surgeon in Falmouth.
She gave a cursory glance at the two men who were still writhing in pain from her arrows, and spit on them when they cried out for help. When she released the dogs, Max walked over to the two attackers on the ground and lifted his leg. “Good dog,” she said. With Thomas, she released the carriage horses from their harnesses before he helped her up onto one of them, and she took off for Bocollyn House.
It was nearlydusk before Richard and Captain Thorne made their way to the entrance to Bocollyn Lodge. Carrick answered their knock immediately, as if he’d been waiting for someone. Mrs. Lanigan peered out behind him.
“Is Lady Blandford at home?” Richard asked, propriety dripping from his tone.
“No, Lieutenant Bourne, and we’re worried.” It was Mrs. Lanigan who spoke before Carrick had a chance. “She left early this afternoon with Lord Blandford, Thomas, and the dogs to visit Viscount Grantham. She should have been back by now.”
“Maybe she went on to Bocollyn House?” Thorne was familiar with the area where Grantham’s land abutted that of Sidmouth’s.
