Susanna wrinkled her nose. Stuart’s breath was heavy with the smell of gin. His grip bruising. What was he doing here? “Why aren’t you performing in London?”
“Maddox fired me. Because of you. So, you see I have nothing to lose. You are coming with me. Your mine, dammit.”
“Get away from her!” Miles roared. Each of Stuart’s henchmen held him back by one of his arms, barely.
“Subdue him please,” Stuart called out before turning his attention back to her. “I’ve missed you.” He leaned in close to sniff her hair and Susanna gagged on the bile that rose in her throat.
She looked over Stuart’s shoulder at Miles as he struggled to get free. One of the men took the butt of his pistol and slammed it against Miles’s temple. He fell to his knees with a grunt, stunned but not unconscious.
“Miles!” she screamed.
Stuart dragged her over to one of the horses. She struggled against his grip; she would not go anywhere with this madman. With a rough jerk on her arm Stuart yanked her forward and she stumbled into his chest. “Don’t push my patience, luv.” Still pointing his pistol at her, he gracefully mounted his horse. “Oy, Smithy, come here and get her on behind me.”
The taller of the henchmen came over and laced his fingers holding them low for her to step onto.
Susanna’s mind raced as she stared down at his hands. She looked back over her shoulder. The same man who had struck Miles held the muzzle of his pistol to Miles’s head. Miles’s face was ashen. He swayed on his knees. His eyes were filled with questions. “Don’t go with him,” he croaked.
She looked up at Stuart. “You promise they won’t kill him?”
Stuart nodded. “Now get on the blasted horse.”
Dammit, she must go with Stuart. He was insane to think he could have her like this. That she would stay with him after he kidnapped her. But for now, she needed to get him far away from Miles. She hitched her skirts up high, if she was to have any chance to escape she needed to have her legs free of these dammed skirts. She cast one more look behind her at Miles, then she stepped into the boost. Stuart reached down for her arm and helped to haul her up as she swung a leg over the horse. As she settled behind Stuart, his henchman stared at her exposed leg like it was going to be his next meal. The man licked his lips and reached a hand out toward her calf.
“Don’t touch her,” Stuart barked. The man’s hand froze and then retreated. “Make sure he isn’t capable of following us. But don’t kill him. Murdering a peer means death on the gallows. Then get out of here before any more traffic comes down this road.” Stuart tapped his heels against his horse’s flank and they were off like a bullet, forcing Susanna to hold onto him or fall off.
They had scarcely cleared a hundred yards when a gunshot rang out. Susanna twisted to look back, terrified they had killed Miles after all. Another shot blasted and Stuart pulled the horse’s reins slowing them so he could see what was happening. A man on a gray-and-white horse raced down the road toward the carriage a pistol in his outstretched hand.
“Who the hell is that?” Stuart said as he twisted in his seat.
This was her chance. Susanna swung her right leg up and over the horse’s rump. She pushed off the back of the saddle and tumbled to the ground in a bone jarring tuck-and-roll move that Colonel Hadley had made her practice countless times before he would agree to teach her to do any tricks. She lay in the dirt for a moment trying to fill her lungs with air before rolling herself into the ditch on the side of the road.
“Susanna!” Stuart cried out.
She lifted her head and saw the two henchmen scramble to mount their horses. Moments later, they rode past her without looking back. Stuart looked stricken having lost his prize, namely her. But her savior pulled a second pistol from his saddle holster and a gunshot echoed through the afternoon. Susanna ducked her head under her hands. In the next breath, she heard the jangle of a bridle as Stuart’s horse took off after his associates.
The gray horse came to a halt next to her. Then a pair of boots came into her line of vision. “Miss, are you hurt?”
Susanna slowly rolled to a sitting position. She looked up at the man who had rushed to their rescue. His salt-and-pepper hair framed an attractive face with eyes the color of a cloudless sky. The neatly trimmed beard he sported also had a good deal of white in it which, along with the lines around his eyes, spoke to his age. He was dressed like a gentleman except for the pistol gripped in his left hand.
He held out his right hand. “The brigands are gone. Please let me help you.”
She placed her hand in his and allowed him to pull her to her feet. Everything hurt. Her thoughts flew to Miles. Had they shot him? She looked down the road. He lay motionless next to the carriage.Dear Lord!“My companion, did you see, did they shoot him?” Pure terror raced through her and she ran toward him.Please be alive. Please be alive.
The older man trotted next to her. “I don’t think they fired. The gunfire was from me as I tried to frighten them off. I did see one man hit him with his pistol. Then they mounted and rode off.”
Susanna fell to her knees next to Miles.Please be alive.With his ashen face and his lids shut she wasn’t so sure he would be. “Miles.” Her blood turned to ice when he didn’t respond, not even a groan or a fluttering of eyelids. She frantically ran her hands over his forehead, his cheek, his jaw. “Miles!” Leaning forward she put her ear near his nose and mouth. Relief poured through when she felt his warm steady breath on her cheek. “He’s alive.”
She continued to examine him. Placing a hand on his chest his heartbeat skipped under her fingertips. As she gently brushed dirt from his face, her fingers grazed his right temple. She gasped. A huge knot swelled there, it had to be as big as a goose egg.
“Bugger, they must have kicked him in the head to make a lump that size.” Her rescuer loomed over her shoulder; his expression grim when she looked up at him.
“They hit him with the butt of the pistol when he was trying to get to me.” Susanna’s eyes filled with tears and they slipped down her cheeks dripping on Miles. “Do you think he will come around?” She wiped her tears from his cheek. She sucked in a gulp of air, hysterics wouldn’t help him.
“I don’t live far from here. I was just returning from visiting a friend. We can take him to my home and I will call for a physician.” He turned and walked around the horses to where the coachman lay tied up.
Go with a total stranger to his home? It was hardly wise. She glanced around at the dusty road surrounded by grassy fields. There weren’t any alternatives. Miles needed to be moved from the dirt and into a bed. He needed to be examined by a doctor. Besides this Good Samaritan saved their lives, that spoke volumes about his character.
The two men walked over. The coachman rolled his shoulders and rubbed his wrists but overall seemed unharmed. His voice was gruff. “That’s the third time in the last two months I have been attacked along this stretch. Damn brigands.”
