My Runaway Heart (39 page)

"Damn you, Jared Giles!"

He
turned,
his heart lurching
as Sylvia shakily aimed a pistol she must have taken from the guard, the report
exploding before he had a chance to pull his weapon from his belt. He heard
Lindsay's gasp and glanced behind him in horror to see her begin to crumple; he
lunged to catch her in his arms before she struck the floor.

"Lindsay!"

Blood was streaking the left side of her head, and he
was so stricken that for a moment he lost all thought of what to do. Doors
being yanked open around him finally gave him the impetus to move. His eyes
stinging, he bolted down the stairs clutching Lindsay to his heart, past the
astonished serving girl, who shrieked in terror, and charged blindly into the
street.

"Oh, God, Lindsay . . ." His jagged breath
tearing at his throat, he barely dodged in time a carriage traveling through
the town square, the coachman shouting out crude obscenities that Jared didn't
hear. His blood thundering in his ears, he didn't slow his desperate pace until
he had reached the alley, Lindsay so horribly limp in his arms, a slash of
scarlet staining her blond hair . . .

Damn him for a fool how could he have brought her with
him? He'd known the danger! Yet he knew, as he hoisted himself into the saddle
with her, the bay stallion snorting skittishly, that he couldn't have denied
her anything for the way she had looked so pleadingly into his eyes. With
Lindsay's head lolling helplessly against his
shoulder,
he kicked the steed into a gallop, his only burning thought to find the
Fair Betty
.

***

"Do you see them, Oliver? Do you see anything?"

Growing more anxious as her old friend shook his head,
Corisande
glanced at the brightening
sky
and then at Donovan, who stood silently beside her at the starboard railing. He
was so grim that she felt her heart sink into her shoes, but she wouldn't allow
herself to believe that something terrible had happened to Lindsay and Jared.
She wouldn't!

"
Corie
girl, I hate to
tell '
ee
, but we can't tarry here much longer,"
Oliver
Trelawny
said without lowering the spyglass,
still scanning the wharf, where a half-dozen warships were berthed. "It's
too dangerous for all
concerned,
I know '
ee
can understand. An' even if we miss them, Lindsay's a
clever girl just like you, she'll think of a way—Lord help us, what the devil?"

"What is it, Oliver, what?" cried
Corisande
, wishing she had a spyglass, too, so she might
see . . .

"It's Lord Giles—there, in that longboat, but I
don't see Lindsay . . . unless . . ."

Oliver's vehement curse made
Corisande
blanch.

"
Ais
, she's in the boat,
too, but something's wrong,
Corie
. Lord Giles has her
lying in the stern, an' she's not moving at all—"

"Oh, Donovan, no." Grateful for her husband's
strong arms suddenly around her,
Corisande
buried her
face against his shoulder, praying for strength. Not Lindsay, please . . . not
her beautiful, indomitable friend, who deserved some happiness more than anyone
she knew . . .

"Lord, now what's all the commotion on the wharf?"

Oliver's puzzled query making her leave the warm
comfort of Donovan's embrace,
Corisande
gasped when a
thunderous burst of cannon fire sounded from the direction of the H.M.S.
Clementine
, towering plumes of water
erupting all around the approaching longboat.

"Those bastards are firing on him!" Gripping
the railing,
Corisande
had never felt so frantic. "Dear
God, they must have heard about the escape and Captain Billingsley. Oliver, we've
got to do something—anything! We can't just sit here and watch them be blown to
bits!"

"
Corie
, we're out of
range here." Donovan answered for the burly captain, who looked at
Corisande
helplessly. "We'd be fools to venture any
closer. Jared's rowing hard—"

He broke off and strode so abruptly toward the prow
that
Corisande
watched him in surprise, realizing his
intent only when he called for one of the
Fair
Betty
's own galleys to be lowered. Her heart overflowing that he would be
willing to help Jared even now, she ran to him as eight of Jared's crew stepped
forward to join him, including a man with hair as raven-black as her husband's.

She had only an instant to hug Donovan and then he was
gone, over the side with the others.
Corisande
rushed
back to Oliver as the galley surged powerfully through the choppy waves toward
the longboat that still seemed so far away. It was torture to watch, especially
when another explosive round came so close again to hitting Jared and Lindsay
that
Corisande
once more began to pray.

She didn't stop praying even when the two boats finally
met, her stomach knotting as she saw Lindsay handed over first before Jared
joined them, her fear for her dearest friend mounting. But her fervent prayers
didn't prevent her from cursing like a sailor when, mere moments later, the
empty longboat was blown to splinters; her stricken gaze was now fixed
steadfastly upon Donovan.

She prayed all the harder while Oliver bellowed to his
crew to unfurl the last of the sails and to lend a hand getting the heavily
loaded galley back aboard.
Corisande
was there
waiting as Jared was the first to disembark his face haggard, his eyes as
haunted as she'd seen in any man when he turned to face her with Lindsay limp
and ashen in his arms.

"
Corie
, please, my wife .
. ."

Her gaze only for an instant straying to the dried
blood matting Lindsay's hair, she swallowed hard and nodded. "Oliver's
cabin, Jared. Let's take her there."

***

It wasn't so much the dull throbbing in her head that
made Lindsay open her eyes, but that she heard someone coaxing her to, a low,
husky voice that filled her with comforting warmth. Yet she panicked, crying
out when at first it seemed she couldn't focus, everything appearing strangely
blurred to her . . . until the same baritone quietly told her to give
herself
a few moments, she wasn't alone, she had no need to
worry.

She closed her eyes and relaxed, someone soothingly
rubbing her fingers, the sensation filling her with peace. Yet the voice came
back again, gently urging her to look around her once more, to see if there was
anything she recognized, anyone she knew.

Her vision was not so blurred this time; with each
blink it grew more focused, sharper, until a face began to take shape and form
in front of her . . . a handsome, beloved face.

"Jared . . ."

Her voice sounded so strange and hoarse, but her single
word elicited a soft ripple of laughter from other dear faces she gradually
recognized:
Corisande
and Donovan; Oliver
Trelawny
; Walker Burke and Cowan and
Cooky
,
too. But once more her gaze moved as if drawn by some inexplicable force to the
man who held her hand firmly locked in his own,
a wetness
in his eyes that she knew she had seen there before.

"Oh, Jared, what happened?"

"
Shhh
, Lindsay, you
needn't try to talk too much," he said, his voice nearly as hoarse as
hers. "I feared I had lost you, but
Corie
was
quick to assure me you'd only been grazed . . . much like what happened to your
arm. If any of us has proved to be immortal—"

His voice seemed to catch and he fell poignantly
silent, his grasp on her fingers growing all the tighter. Suddenly her throat
felt tight, too, and she lifted her other hand to touch his face, just to know
that he was truly real, the moment real. But what convinced her was the fierce
intensity in his vivid blue eyes, making her breath stop, and the words he bent
his head to whisper for her ears alone.

"I love you, Lindsay. Love you . . ."

She had never known her heart to feel so full, but when
a shadow seemed to pass over Jared's face, she felt a moment's panic. "Jared
. . . ?"

"I've nothing to give you, Lindsay, no house, no
beautiful clothes, nothing that you deserve—"

"But you've given me everything, Jared. Everything
I could ever want. What else could I need?"

His expression appeared to lighten, a tender smile upon
his face as he bent closer and kissed her, but not for as long as she might
have wanted.
Corisande
clearing her throat made Jared
lift his head, Lindsay's gaze flying to her friend, who gave a small shrug and
glanced with mischief in her eyes at Oliver
Trelawny
.

"Hmm, if there's nothing else they need, I don't know
what we're to do with
all
gold Lindsay's father
entrusted to us, do you, Oliver?"

"Well, I suppose we could put it to good use, but
didn't Sir Randolph say something about telling Lord Giles that his daughter
had always wanted to see the world?"

"Yes, I believe he did—something about America,
too. Now, there's a big place—so big, I've heard, that you can become lost in
it. And we're already planning to leave them in
Roscoff
,
where they might find a ship to take them there, France and America friends
enough that it shouldn't be too hard to do. I say America would be a fine place
to start—seeing the world, of course."

Lindsay was so astonished she just stared at her
friend, her eyes clouding when she saw tears swimming in
Corisande's
eyes. And she knew, once they reached Brittany, they would be saying good-bye
to each other, maybe forever. But as Donovan drew his wife gently against him,
Lindsay felt Jared squeeze her
hand
and she smiled
into his eyes, knowing, too, that she and
Corisande
had both found what they were looking for . . . the men of their dreams.

"What do you think, Lindsay?" Jared's gaze
full of love, his voice playfully teasing, he lowered his head and gave her a
tender kiss that thrilled her to her toes. "America?"

Lifting her hands to cradle his face, she whispered
against his lips, "Anywhere, Jared. Anywhere as long as I'm with you."

About the Author

Miriam Minger
is the award-winning, critically acclaimed author of ten historical romances
.
 
She also writes
inspirational romantic thrillers as M.C. Walker, and is the co-author of the
popular Little Mike and Maddie series of children’s picture books about a
lovable pair of dogs and their motorcycle adventures.
 

Historical Romances by Miriam Minger:

Twin Passions

Stolen Splendor

A Hint of Rapture

Captive Rose

Defiant Impostor

The Pagan’s
Prize

Wild Angel

Secrets of Midnight

My Runaway Heart (sequel to Secrets of
Midnight)

Wild Roses (sequel to Wild Angel)

Inspirational Romantic Thrillers by M.C. Walker:

Blood Son

Children’s Picture Books by Miriam Aronson:

Little Mike and
Maddie’s
First Motorcycle Ride

Little Mike and Maddie’s Black Hills
Adventure

Little Mike and Maddie’s Christmas Book

For information about the above titles, visit
www.walkerpublishing.net
or write to
[email protected]
.