Matthew’s back, which was positioned in a broken window, scraped against the rutted path. He pushed Charlotte into her brother’s arms and shoved them both down to the relative safety beneath the shattered glass. Wood creaked and groaned as the carriage began to rip apart. Matthew sank his fingers into the plush cushion as he fought to stand upright. Despite the jostling of the conveyance, he managed to scramble to his feet. Balancing in the curve of the carriage’s right side, Matthew reached for the secured left door hanging above his head. It thunked open and flapped like an angry bird’s wing. Once again digging into the thick fabric of the seat back, Matthew hoisted himself through the opening. As he reached the top, the horses bolted to the left, almost sending him flying. He clung to the frame as his feet skidded along the lacquered surface.
He finally found purchase. Using the lantern hooks for leverage, he hauled himself over to the now-vertical driver’s box. He hooked his knees through the side of the seat and then swung his body down. It took two tries, but he managed to grab the reins and pull the horses to a halt.
When the carriage finally skidded to a stop, Matthew executed a flip, freeing his legs and landing neatly on the ground. No sooner had he unhitched the horses than something hit him hard. Unprepared for the blow, Matthew plummeted to the ground. When the first punch hit his head, he realized that he’d been felled by a human.
“Damn it. How are you still alive?” The voice was coarse and had definitely been cultivated in the London stews. By the smell of the man, he still resided there. “You were supposed to be a duke of limbs.”
Fury and guilt pulsated through Matthew as he realized that he’d been ambushed while traveling with Charlotte and Alexander. He wasn’t shocked that someone was trying to kill him. It came with his secret life. The man’s choice of insult sounded like something his brothers would say, though, and not his other enemies. But Matthew had no time to unravel who had sent the assassin.
The steel of a blade caught the waning rays of the evening sun. The weapon slashed down, heading straight for his neck. Matthew caught the masked man’s wrist and twisted. The knife fell from the attacker’s hand and hit the dirt.
“Sorry to disappoint.” Matthew swung out his foot and hooked the assailant’s right knee, bringing the beefy man crashing to the ground.
Unfortunately, just as Matthew leapt to his feet, another ruffian grabbed him from behind, pressing a wickedly sharp dagger against his throat. “I’ve got him, Charley. You check his pockets.”
Interesting. When people put blades to Matthew’s jugular, that wasn’t their normal response. It was something a common footpad might say, but these men wouldn’t have set up an elaborate carriage crash just to steal a man’s purse. This didn’t feel like a highway robbery either. No one appeared to be attacking the carriage. The focus was only on Matthew.
Curious as to what the men were after, he allowed Charley to stick his large hands into the pockets of his frock coat. Sure enough, the brigand ignored his coins.
“The nob doesn’t have it on him,” Charley grunted as he stepped back.
“What are you looking for?” Matthew asked conversationally.
The knifepoint pricked his neck. “Shut your bloody mouth.”
“Isn’t that at odds with your goal? Don’t you wish for me to speak?” Matthew kept his voice genial despite the tension pumpingthrough him. Surreptitiously, he scanned the road. No other reprobates seemed to be present. Both the coachman and tiger, who must have been thrown off, were beginning to stir from their prone positions.
Charley scratched his head as he glanced over his mask at his accomplice. “The toff has a point, Eddie.”
“I try,” Matthew responded lightly. “I often give lectures at universities. I suppose it is my habit to give instructions.”
“Are you trying to school us on how to do our job?” Eddie demanded, pressing the dagger more fully against Matthew’s skin, not enough to slice but enough for Matthew to feel the weapon’s sharpness. Matthew tensed, ready to disarm Eddie.
Charley signaled for his companion to stop. “Let’s see what he’s got to say.”
“Well, it would make sense to ask if I had any hidden pockets. You do after all have a weapon against my neck, which is incentive for me to answer,” Matthew said. He would be amused at how easily he was manipulating this duo if the danger to Charlotte, Alexander, and Tavish’s employees was not so great.
Matthew was growing more and more convinced that these men had been sent by Hawley, but he wanted to know for certain. If it was the choker they were after, then he’d have his answer. Of course, if they were indeed Hawley’s minions, then once they saw the jewelry and reported back to his brother, Hawley would realize beyond a doubt that Matthew had taken it.
But Matthew didn’t care. Investigating and following Hawley hadn’t done any good in the past. Matthew had decided to become the bait after all, and already it was working. He now knew the names and physiques of two of Hawley’s underlings.
“Do. You. Have. A. Hidden. Pocket?” Eddie asked between gritted teeth. This time Matthew felt a slight burning as the blade scraped his flesh.
“Why, yes. I do. It is sewn into the inside of my waistcoat,” Matthew said. He’d placed the choker there to show Tavish, but he hadn’t had the chance. He’d debated about revealing it to Alexander, but he didn’t want to put his best friend in any more danger. Alexander had faced enough of Hawley’s cruelty during their school days. Matthew hadn’t been able to protect him then, but maybe he could now.
Charley ripped open Matthew’s frock coat, sending buttons flying. The ruffian also made quick work of opening Matthew’s waistcoat. When the brigand began to poke around for the hidden compartment, Matthew laughed and squirmed. Let these men think him the ticklish fool.
“Stop moving!” Eddie roared. “Do you want to slice your own throat?”
“I can’t help it,” Matthew forced out between the most ridiculous giggles that he could muster.
“Addlepate,” Eddie hissed, but he did pull back his weapon.
Charley found the pocket and began to yank on the jewelry. His light blue eyes widened over his mask. “This is it!”
Matthew had his answer. Before Charley could steal the choker, Matthew reached up and twisted the dagger away from Eddie while simultaneously using the man’s beefy arm for leverage. Kicking up his legs, he latched them around Charley’s neck. Twisting his whole body, he brought Charley down first. When his feet returned to the ground, he flipped a stunned Eddie over his shoulder. Matthew started to reach for his knife hidden in the inner lining of his frock coat, but a shot rang out.
Eddie screeched as his hat went flying. Matthew looked over his shoulder to find Alexander standing in the overturned coach, his head popping out from one of the windows. He had a pistol trained on Charley with one hand as he handed his used weapon presumably down to Lady Charlotte for reloading. She used to accompanythem during their boyhood target practices at Falcondale Hall, but Alexander had always been the best shot out of the three of them.
