Page 64 of Much Ado about a Widow

“Damn.” Rob leaped back, dragging Jemmy with him. Buckley swept up to him, and Rob let fly with the right hook he’d perfected at the boxing saloon in London. The steward went down like a tree felled in the woods. Jackson himself would have been proud.

Jemmy had acquitted himself well with one of the two liveried servants, but Rob and Jemmy couldn’t fight this many unaided. Rob dropped back to the castle door, Jemmy at his side, ready to slip inside and bolt the door, when the doors burst open and the castle servants swarmed out, brandishing everything from soup pots to the ancient spit that Cook used to roast the traditional Christmas boar.

Grinning, Rob reversed course and waded into the fray. He grabbed up a fallen staff and swung it at the head of the other liveried footman. The man ducked, made a grab at the stick, and tried to jerk it out of Rob’s hands. Rob let go, punched the man in the face, then grasped the pole once again and moved cheerfully on to his next victim.

What a glorious day to do battle.

Chapter Twenty-One

“Ouch.” Rob shied back as Georgie tried to apply a cloth soaked in witch hazel to the bruised knuckles of his right hand. The skin was broken in several places, and the whole hand was swollen. Sitting on a small hassock drawn up next to a table spread with various medicinal paraphernalia Cook had supplied, he’d finally given himself over to Georgie’s attempts to clean and dress the minor wounds.

“Hold still, please.” She dabbed the medicine on relentlessly. “If you are going to act like a pirate, you should at least adopt a more stoic attitude to your treatment.”

“I am not the only one wincing in pain, you know.” He nodded to the other bodies that littered the chairs, sofas, and floor of the castle’s largest drawing room, from which groans and yelps erupted at short intervals.

Shaking her head, Georgie surveyed the minor carnage brought about by the mercifully quick campaign on the castle steps some hours earlier. “You were lucky you weren’t killed, Rob.”

“We had the advantage of defending our home and our fair maiden.” He picked up her hand and kissed it. “Everyone rose splendidly to the occasion. I think half the men were jubilant to actually fight for something they love.” He squeezed her hand and gazed into her eyes until her cheeks heated like coals. “None of them went off to the war, including me, but we all long to demonstrate our willingness to sacrifice for the ones we love. It’s a vital part of being a man.”

“I cannot thank you enough for making the stand for me.” Tossing the soiled rag onto the table, Georgie sighed and took up the bandage Cook had also supplied, winding it around Rob’s hand. “I don’t know what I would have done had they succeeded in taking me.” Thoughts of her father’s retribution had almost made her ill when she’d learned he’d sent his men to seize her and take her home.

“They would never have taken you, Georgie. I would never let anyone or anything harm you. Believe that.” The strength of Rob’s conviction warmed her heart.

“I do, my love.” She stole a glance around the room, but everyone seemed occupied with the other wounded. Quickly, she dipped her head, kissing him with a fierceness that sprang from deep inside her. This was the man she would spend her life with, who she would stand with and die beside if necessary. Pray God it was not.

When she raised her head, Rob’s eyes had a dazed look, and a lopsided smile was on his lips. “If that is how you are going to thank me for going into battle, I shall have to create a confrontation or invent a campaign on a regular basis.”

“Wretch.” She sat next to him, and he put his arm around her. “I will thank you a thousand times better if you don’t go getting yourself into mischief. I want my husband unbruised and unbroken. So much better when all your parts are working.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. All the really important ones are.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Care to find out how well they are working at the moment?”

“Rob.” She leaned her head against his chest. “What are we going to do now?”

Sighing, he looked about the room.

The injured servants had mostly been seen to. Elizabeth and, surprisingly, Lady St. Just had worked alongside Cook and the housemaids to tend the cuts, gashes, bruises, and black eyes. Everyone was sore, but in rousing good spirits.

“We do exactly as we had planned. Tomorrow we sail to Scotland and get married, and then all of your father’s machinations will be for naught. Buckley has set a guard before the door, but I’m betting he hasn’t had time to discover the smugglers’ tunnel. However, if Travers could find out about it, so will your father’s steward. We must act quickly.”

“Then why not leave today?” The quicker they were on their way, the sooner they could be married.

“Because, my love, neither the wind nor the tide is right. Trust me on this. We do not want to end up thrashing about on the ocean, going in the wrong direction.” He kissed her temple, and peace washed over her. “We sail at dawn.” He screwed up his mouth and frowned, though his eyes twinkled with mischief. “Dawn is a bit too early for me. I say we wait until after breakfast. Can’t sail on an empty stomach, can we?”

“That is the only way I intend to sail.” Georgie rose and held out her hand to him. “I must go tell Clara the journey is indeed still on. She’ll need to commence packing. Come with me?”

“I will escort you to your chamber, then I must instruct Lovell to pack me as well before making sure we have provisions ready to take to the ship.” Grinning, Rob wound her arm through his. “So many things to think about when one is eloping and evading two different parties trying to thwart one’s efforts. Once we are married I think I will take to my bed for a week.” He winked at her. “Care to join me there?”

“Oh, most assuredly, my love.” Georgie returned his grin as they headed into the corridor. “Although I suspect we will end up even more exhausted when that week is done.”

* * *

“You’ll want this traveling gown for tomorrow morning, my lady?” The fire crackled merrily in the grate as Clara busied herself helping Georgie prepare for bed.

“The brown? Yes, I believe that one will do. I don’t wish to take too much with me, Clara. It will all have to be unpacked again when we return.” Excitement washed through Georgie as she sat in front of the mirror, though she tried to restrain herself. This time next week she and Rob would be man and wife. Tingles spread from her innermost core all the way to her fingers and toes at the thought of her and Rob entwined in each other’s arms, a tangle of sheets all around them.

“My lady?”

The maid’s voice brought her out of her daydream. Clara stood before her holding out two day gowns. “Will these do? Or would you prefer the green brocade? That one might be warmer.”