Ladies of Deception 03 - Betraying the Highwayman (3 page)

Elenore perked up at his offer, could he really help her? “How can I be sure that you will honor your word?”

“I guess you'll have to decide if you can trust me.” He shrugged. “But, I happen to have connections to somebody who owns a shipping business and frequently sails to America. I'm sure, if I speak with him, he would gladly agree to assist you on your journey, all the while providing safe travels for you as well. His wife is often with him on his voyages and may be willing to keep your company during the duration.”

It all sounded too good to be true, but there were still some questions left unanswered. “I do not have much by way of monetary means. I'd have to know the costs up front to see if it's something I could afford.”

“I will see to it that there is no cost, as long as you agree to care for the man I have mentioned.”

“And how long do I have to care for said gentleman?” she asked warily.

The man was thoughtful for a moment before replying, “Until the end of the season in London. By then his children should be able to assist him.”

“But that's nearly three months away!” There was no way she was going to agree to assisting a sickly man for that long, not to mention that she had no desire to remain in London and risk being found out by somebody from the ton to whom she had been introduced. No there was no way she could agree to three months, whether the reward was passage to America or not. She'd just have to find her own way there.

“I'm convinced the time will fly by quickly, and before you know it, you'll be sailing towards your new life.”

“I'm afraid I have no desire to stay in London that long. I need to be getting on my way. I feel an urgency inside of me compelling me to leave.”

“Well, if it's any comfort to you, the man resides in Surrey at the moment, so you won't be in London per se, and if you'll agree to two months, we'll have a deal.”

“One month,” she countered. “And that is my final offer.”

“Agreed,” the man said, relief evident in his voice.

Elenore hoped she wouldn't regret her decision.

Guiding the horse with an expert finesse, the man turned them in the opposite direction of where they had been going and took off with a gallop. Elenore was thrust back into his solid chest, as one arm went tightly around her valise, the other frantically tried to grab onto anything to secure herself in the saddle. Her hand settled on one hard thigh, as she gripped on as tightly as she could. They rode on at break-neck speed for what felt like an eternity, Elenore never once letting up on her white knuckled grip. More than once she doubted her wisdom in trusting her fate to a complete stranger.

Elenore thought her racing thoughts would never slow down, but just as she felt her eyes beginning to droop and her head following suit, the man pulled back on the reins and halted the horse in his tracks. Elenore’s head jerked up, as she tried to shake the drowsiness from her head. “What’s going on?” she mumbled sleepily.

“I insist you remove your claws from my thigh at once. I can hardly feel my leg anymore.”

Elenore pulled her hand back sharply, embarrassed at his words. She had completely forgotten that she was still gripping his leg until he brought it to her attention. Her hand was stiff from holding on so long, and she began to stretch her fingers open and close to get the blood flowing back into her extremities. “I apologize, sir, but if you weren’t such a careless rider, I wouldn’t have to hold on for dear life.”

“Normally I don’t mind a pretty girl’s touch but that’s when she’s not endangering my life.”

Elenore scoffed, “I wasn’t holding on that hard. You must not be as strong as you seem.”

The man laughed. “I think you’re just not used to how a man prefers to be touched.”

Elenore’s face flushed, “I think this is highly inappropriate conversation matter.”

The man cleared his throat before reaching up to scratch his face under his mask. “Forgive me, Sister. I was only just teasing.” Then changing the subject he said, “We’re about a two-hour ride outside of Surrey, where the earl's estate is. I thought it would be wise to let Calvin have a rest, while we get a little something in our bellies before we continue on.”

Elenore nodded, as the man lowered her to the ground, a look of apology on his face, as he tried to make her fall gentle so as not to hurt her feet any more than he had to, before sliding off of the saddle and standing next to her. Looking up at him, she longed to yank the mask from his face and see what he looked like. She had to admit to a little curiosity with the stranger; his body was lithe and lean, the body of a young man who spent lots of time in pursuit of physical activities, and his eyes were a warm brown. Not that she was sure if it counted, but judging by his eyes, she assumed that he was a kind man who smiled often.

Suddenly a longing to know more about the stranger burst forth and she asked, “What is your name?”

Feigning disbelief and placing one hand over his heart in mock surprise, the man said, “You mean you haven’t heard of me?”

Elenore eyed him warily, “No, should I have?”

He laughed, bowing mockingly before her, “The humble and handsome Black Lightening.”

Elenore couldn’t keep from laughing, “Humble I think not. And handsome? I have no idea. Why don’t you take off that silly mask so I can judge that for myself.”

One hand flew possessively up to the black mask. “Absolutely not, you’ll just have to take my word for it. Besides, it would ruin the mystery and intrigue of the infamous Black Lightening. What’s your name?”

Elenore automatically started to tell him her name before remembering her ruse as a nun. Barely catching herself before she slipped she said, “Sister Genevieve,” giving him her middle name instead.

“Excellent. Now that we are no longer strangers let’s have a bite to eat.”

The man grabbed a bag that was tied to the saddle on the horse, before taking the reins in his hand and guiding them over to a small stream. Calvin drank thirstily, while both he and Elenore lowered themselves to the ground. The man opened the bag and pulled a few meager food items from inside. There was an apple, a few biscuits that looked horrendously dry, and a flask of something to drink. Elenore was disappointed at the pitiful fare, for she was starving. The stew she had inhaled back at the inn had barely begun to sate her appétit. Even though there wasn’t much food to share between the two of them, she was still grateful for whatever she could get.

The man handed her one of the biscuits before pulling a knife from his boot and cutting the apple in two. Elenore ate hastily, so that by the time he had cut the apple, her biscuit was already gone.

The man chuckled, as he stretched forth one hand to offer her a portion of the apple. “Hungry?”

Elenore only nodded, as she snatched the apple from his grasp and begin devouring the succulent fruit. It was just what she needed after nearly choking down the dry biscuit.

She finished the apple in record time, before glancing over at the man. He was watching her curiously, humor sparkling in his brown eyes. He had finished eating his biscuit, but his half of the apple was sitting in his hand untouched. He propelled his arm forward and offered her his portion of the fruit. “Take it. I think you need it more than I do.”

Elenore eyed the apple sheepishly, before reaching and plucking it from his hand and beginning to devour it as quickly as she had her own. The man watched her with amusement. He hadn’t met many nuns in his life, but the picture in his head of what a nun should be like and what the actual nun sitting in front of him was, were two completely different things.

He watched as her pink lips closed around the apple. She was younger than any nun he had ever met. He squinted to get a closer look at her in the dark and made out a scattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose. They were light and almost indiscernible by the light of the moon, but if you looked closely, you could see them. He wondered if she spent much time outdoors, not exactly sure what she would be doing if she did.

When she finished the apple, he held out the flask and offered it to her. She drank greedily before turning and handing it back to him. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I apologize. I don’t have more to offer you,” he said.

Elenore stretched her legs out before her, grateful for the modesty the long tunic gave her. Looking up at the dark sky she yawned. “Do we have time for a quick rest? I’m dreadfully exhausted.”

“Go ahead. I’ll go check on Calvin and tie up the bag so we can be on our way.” The man stood up and brushed off his hands on his pants before heading towards the stream where Calvin was resting.

Elenore lay back in the grass and rolled over onto her side, tucking one arm under her head for a pillow. She was dreadfully tired, feeling as if she had lived a complete lifetime in the last day. Her eyelids felt like lead. She could hardly keep them open. She closed them momentarily to give her eyes a rest, and before she knew it, she was sound asleep.

The man took his time seeing to Calvin and taking care of business in the woods before returning to find the nun fast asleep in the grass. He gently prodded her side with the toe of his boot to rouse her. She let out a small groan but otherwise didn’t budge at all. He bent over and shook her shoulder with a little more force but to no avail.

Turning to Calvin he said, “She’s out like a log.” Calvin whinnied in response, as if he could understand every word his master spoke.

The man looked down on her sleeping form once more and lowered himself to the ground, suddenly feeling exhausted from the day's adventures. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to rest a bit before continuing onward. He stretched his lanky form out in the grass a few feet from where Sister Genevieve slept. Turning his back to her, he quickly joined her in a dreamless sleep.

***

The man was first to awake, yawning as he stretched, his body stiff from sleeping on the hard ground. Judging by the dusty gray of the sky, he had slept longer than he had anticipated. He sat up and glanced over at Sister Genevieve who was still in the same position she had fallen asleep in, soft snores escaping her delicate mouth. He rose and went to check on Calvin, leading him back to where the nun slept on in oblivion. He called out to her but she didn't so much as flinch. Bending over, he shook her shoulder, hoping to waken her but to no avail. He decided to pick her up and place her in the saddle. He could ill afford to wait until she decided to wake. Reaching down he scooped her into his arms—she was warm and heavy with sleep. Though she wasn’t much bigger than a child, she felt like a dead weight in his arms. He grunted as he hoisted her up in the saddle, hoping she’d wake up and be able to assist him, but the poor girl was out. After a few attempts, he successfully had her sitting in the saddle, and while he balanced her with one hand, he used his other hand to pull himself up behind her.

“Well Calvin, let’s do this,” he muttered as they began galloping towards Surrey, anxious to get rid of the nun and the blasted black mask that was starting to annoy him.

Elenore was just coming to, as she noticed the sun rising and the day beginning to get warm. Her first instinct was to reach up and remove the cumbersome veil sitting atop her head, and she almost did it before she was startled by the man speaking.

“See that house a ways off? That’s Westbrooke Hall, where I’m taking you.”

Elenore squinted to get a better view of the house, one hand going up to shield her eyes from the sun. Off in the distance she could make out a rectangular, red-brick house surrounded by dozens of oak trees.

“Tell me more about this man I am to care for,” she asked the stranger, hoping to get some more information about the task she was undertaking.

“He is the Earl of Brattondale, and he’s been sick off and on for some time now. This last bout got so bad his family removed him from London to his country estate, hoping that he’d get some more rest here away from the leisurely pursuits of the season.”

“What exactly is wrong with him?” she asked curiously.

She felt rather than saw the man shrug, still looking towards the house that would become her temporary home. “Not sure. The doctor says nothing is wrong, but I don’t see how that can be true. From what I hear from the family, he lies in bed all day moaning and groaning, complaining of terrible stomach pains. Some days he acts almost normal, but other days, he can hardly eat, the pain is so intense.”

“I’m sorry to hear he’s in such pain. I’m not sure exactly what I can do to assist him, but hopefully my presence will be of some benefit to the poor man.”

“I assure you it will,” the man said confidently, “And certainly our arrangement will be of some benefit to you, I hope.”

When they were nearly fifty yards from the house, the stranger brought Calvin to a halt and gingerly lowered Elenore to the ground, handing her the valise she had brought with her.

Elenore looked at the house before looking back up into the man’s masked face. “Is this where you’re leaving me?” she asked wearily, suddenly nervous about the adventure she was undertaking.

“Yes, I must get going. I apologize for not being able to take you closer to the main house, but I do not dare draw closer. Go to the door and tell the butler you’re here to care for Lord Brattondale, there shouldn’t be any problem.”

The man gave Calvin a gentle nudge and began to trot away. Elenore followed after them, ignoring the pain in her feet and frantically called out, “That’s it? You’re leaving me in this strange place with people I’ve never met?”

“You’ll be fine,” he called over his shoulder, attempting to reassure her. “The earl will be grateful for your assistance, the household staff is pleasant, and I hear that Lord Brattondale’s son, the Viscount Bridgerton, is an immensely likeable fellow.”

Elenore gulped, she hadn’t thought about encountering anyone other than the ailing old man. “You didn’t tell me his son was present, why can’t he take care of his father?”

“Because he’s busy. That’s why. He spends the majority of his time in London but will visit on occasion to see how his father is fairing.”

“And I must answer to him?”

“I’m sure he’ll appreciate that. Now truly, I must get going,” he said impatiently, anxious to be on his way.

“Wait,” Elenore called out once more. “Will I see you again?”

The man laughed. “Not likely, at least not if I’m doing my job right.”

“Then how will I know you've kept your end of our bargain, that you'll truly get me passage to America?”

“I'll send you a missive with the details, when everything has been arranged. Until then, just make sure that Lord Brattondale is well cared for.”

“Before you leave, tell me why they call you Black Lightening,” she asked, curious at the odd moniker and uneasy at the prospect of being all alone in a foreign place.

The man was thoughtful for a moment before speaking. “The black part is obvious—it’s for my attire and mask. The lightening part is because I’m unpredictable like lightening; nobody knows where I’ll strike next or who I’ll hit. And I’m fast,” he added almost as an afterthought, turning and galloping off speedily, as if to prove to her that he was indeed as fast as they say.

Elenore stood there in the cloud of dust Calvin had created, thinking about the strange turn her life had taken. It was hard for her to imagine that it had only been a day since she escaped from the Duke of Kerrington’s watch, anxious to embark on a grand adventure. She looked down on her unfamiliar nun’s attire once more and sighed. It appeared that fate had decided her future for her, at least for the short term. Hopefully, the next month would go by quickly so she could embark on the grand adventure she so desperately sought. Thoughts of her life in America would have to sustain her longing for excitement while she bade her time caring for the sick earl.