The Highwayman's Bride (22 page)

“How did you do it, Nash?”

The man’s thin lips slipped into a sneer. “You mean how did I outsmart you every time? You may be all rich and powerful, but the rest of us have to live by our wits.”

“You use people.”

“Of course. People come in handy. Take that maid of yours, Katie.”

“Katie? She was Lillian’s maid.”

“Aye. Pretty little thing and warms a man’s bed nicely. I suppose I should offer thanks you kept her on after that trollop of a wife of yours croaked. She came in right handy. Eager to please, passing on messages when you were on the road. She has such a sick aunt, you see, and needed to go visit her often.”

Comprehension instant, Aiden cursed.

“Clever, don’t you think? No one could say nay to her when she pleaded she must go and visit her aunt.”

“There was no aunt.”

“That’s right,” he chuckled. “Made it easy to evade you many a time.”

“You bastard.”

Nash shrugged, laughing. “Probably.”

Tess caught the edge of evil in his rasping croak. It repulsed her. This man held life cheap and would rob a corpse as easily as he slurped ale.

“You systematically set out to trap my sister, then abused her.”

Nash sneered, his delight obvious. “I did. Those jewels of hers were such an enticement.”

A gasp slipped from Tess and Nash’s attention shifted to her. “Don’t be surprised. She was weak and the powerful shall dominate the weak.”

“You’re mad.”

He offered a dismissive shrug. “Most likely, but I’m also the one with the weapons aimed at your hearts. Now which one of you shall I kill first? ’Tis a difficult decision for a madman.”

…

“Ladies first, don’t you think?” Tess said, stepping forward and pulling off her cap at the same time.

Her hair tumbled in a silken veil around her shoulders and Aiden spied Nash’s brazen admiration. Nash’s attention momentarily distracted, Aiden sprang. A pistol went off.

“Aiden!”

Her voice registered in his brain the same moment his fist smashed into Nash’s jaw. The crack of bone crunching bone echoed. “Run, Tess. Run.”

Nash swung at him with the second pistol and connected with Aiden’s chest. The force knocked him backward, feet slipping beneath him. He floundered and Nash lunged at him, but gained no purchase. Aiden grabbed Nash’s clothing, yanked him close and then spun him over onto his back. He wrapped his hands around the man’s throat, squeezing, squeezing tighter. Tighter.

Desperate for breath, Nash clawed at Aiden’s face, blinding him briefly, then the brute’s fist connected with Aiden’s broken ribs and every ounce of oxygen plowed from his lungs. His hold on Nash loosened a fraction and the man shoved at him and slithered from Aiden’s grip, retrieving one of his pistols.

Tess screamed. “Watch out!”

Aiden swung round to see Tess raise an oar sky-high and then slam it toward Nash.

Too late! Nash wrenched the oar from her, the force catapulting her forward. He grabbed her in a neck-hold and aimed the pistol to her head.

“Nice try. Shame you failed. I will admit a token of admiration for you, missy. You’re a brave, though foolish, woman.”

Winded, Aiden straightened. “Kill me, Nash. Let her go.”

A sound. A crack. Barely audible. Then another, and another.

As unobtrusively as he could, Aiden dropped his gaze.

The ice! It cracked around Tess. Around Nash.

He looked directly at her. His wife. His Tess. Sweet Tess.

In that moment, everything became clear. He stared into her eyes and witnessed the love shining there and knew that what he had tried to ignore, tried to resist, was in his heart too. He loved her. Totally. Utterly.

“Do you remember that night at the Bancroft’s, sweet Tess? The night we danced?”

Her brow creased, understanding not clear. He willed her to listen, to think back.

Still he held her gaze.

“The night was crisp, the air fresh, though the first fall of snow and ice were melting. We danced. You stepped to the right. Do you remember?”

Tess blinked twice.

“The right, Tess. Now!”

Aiden charged, one hand shoving her from Nash’s grip, the other powering into the man’s chest before he had the chance to react.

Nash tumbled backward. His head slammed against the ice as it split beneath him and he fell through the frozen shards. “Help me.” Hands snatching at the air, he grabbed at Aiden and yanked him into the river.

Instantly, the freezing water sucked at Aiden’s breath. His mouth opened, a scream stifled as frozen water silenced it.

It was so cold. So heavy. It would be so easy to sleep. To let go. He kicked out, one boot connecting with something solid. Hands slashed at him, yanking him back down. Down.

Tess! Sweet, sweet Tess.

No! He would not drown. He had too much to live for. For Tess. For Alexander. For love. Good reasons. Worthwhile reasons. Perfect reasons.

He kicked out again and again, bursting through the surface. His eyes opened, vision blurry.

“Aiden! Aiden!”

Her screech tore through everything.

“Where are you?”

“Grab this.”

Something dug into his side and he swung round, but other fingers—Nash grabbed it first.

“Let me. That’s mine.” Nash yanked hard, but Aiden’s elbow caught him on the side of the head and the man lost his grip and slid beneath the water.

Pain ricocheted through every part of him. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. He wanted to sleep. To drift away.

“Aiden! Pull. Don’t give up.”

His eyes flashed open. “Tess!”

“Pull, Aiden. Pull!”

With one hand on the oar, the other clawing at the rim of the broken ice shelf, he dragged himself from the water on his belly.

Breathless, he simply lay there. Silent. Unable to think or move.

Tess? His sweet Tess.

Rolling onto his side, he came face to face with the most beautiful sight in the world. “Sweet, Tess.”

“He’s gone.”

Confusion clouded Aiden’s brain momentarily. “Nash?” Lifting his head, he searched the gaping hole in the frozen river. There was no sign of Nash. Gone. His nemesis had lost.

Then the bitter cold set in and he began to shake from head to foot, his teeth chattering.

Tess grabbed him under one arm, hoisting him to his feet. “You’re wet and if we don’t get you dry you will freeze to death.”

“Aye,” he said as ice ate into his bones. “I’m not sure I’ll ever feel warm again.”

She wrapped her arms around him.

“But then again,” he said with a sigh of relief, “you warm me right through.”

Slowly, aware that the ice around them had begun to crack, they negotiated their way back to the riverbank and as they hit true terra firma, Aiden offered a silent prayer to the heavens. They had survived. Now, he had to do what he must. He glanced back toward the watery tomb.

Tess tightened her grip on his hand. “He’s gone Aiden, down into the bowels of hell where he belongs. It’s over.”

Aiden turned from Nash’s icy grave, a smile at last in his heart. He drew her hands into his. “Nay, sweet Tess, tis not over. Our lives have only just begun.”

“Ours?”

“Aye. I’m a fool. A blind man who needed a guide to lead him into the light. You were my guide the day we met, as true as you are my guide thus far. Will you stay and guide me, Tess? I was wrong.”

“You admit it?” A tiny smile curved the edges of her mouth. He wanted to kiss each sweet delectable inch of it. “I want you beside me, Tess, but I will not force you. You wanted your independence and freedom and I will not stop you if you want to leave.”

“You were the one who said I must go.”

“I did. For too many months I have searched for Nash, too many months living with a black heart as companion. It colored everything, until the light you lit opened my eyes. If you wish to go—”

“Shush, you talk too much.” She rested her finger on his lips and Aiden felt her touch sear right through to his heart.

Love? It felt exactly like love.

“I have been talking to a wise woman of late.”

“The witch?”

“Who else? You were right. I did want my independence and freedom.”

Did?

“My parents’ marriage was one of love. I want the same, for loving alone is far too lonely an occupation for a lifetime. I would go to the end of the earth for that love, but without it returned, my heart will break.”

“You have my love, Tess. Truly. Totally. Forever.

“Then,” she said, standing and holding her hand out to him, “I think my lord, it is time to go home, for I love you so very, very much.”

Epilogue

Love is in the air

A future bright with cheer

For this Lord has found love with his Lady.

Mirabelle’s Musings

March 1814

The fire in the grate crackled, hot chocolates ready to drink and with her family around her, everything was right with her world.

Tess spied her son playing with the new puppy Aiden had brought home for him and delighted in the way those two words sounded.

Her son.

Aiden sidled up beside her, wrapping an arm around her waist and drawing her to him. “I love you, sweet Tess.” He leaned in close and kissed her earlobe, nuzzling the sensitive path along her neck.

“Aiden! Someone will see.”

“So does that give us the perfect excuse, then?”

“For?”

“Escaping upstairs.”

“Shame on you, my lord,” she teased, “it is the middle of the day.”

“Perfect, I will be able to see your delicious body as I make love to you.”

“You are a rogue, sir.”

“And you love me for it,” he said, offering her a wink.

“I do.”

Mary’s laughter rang out and Tess glanced over to her sister-in-law. She sat with Alexander as he tried to teach his puppy tricks.

“It is good to see her so happy,” Aiden said. “It seems her musings have given her a new lease on life.”

“You’re not angry?”

“Why would I be? I just want her happy. That’s what it has always been about. I hear
Mirabelle’s Musings
are all the rage in the
ton
.”

“The rogue she has written about is no longer and the women of London are weeping their loss.”

“Their loss is your gain.”

“Absolutely, my lord,” she teased, kissing him on the cheek.

Behind her, Jasper leaned over maps spread across the table by the window.

“When does he leave?”

“The ship to the Americas leaves in a week.”

“And you can’t persuade him to stay?”

“I’ve tried,” Aiden’s gaze shifted toward his brother. “He is determined to go and believes this is the new path he needs. He’s full of stories of opportunity. Who am I to stop his dreams, for my own have been fulfilled?”

“Even though they took a little nudging along.”

“A little,” he grinned, “but I would have gotten there in the end.”

“I had a letter from Tulip today.”

Aiden’s mouth thinned. “I trust your aunt and uncle are settled in the depths of Cornwall.”

“Oh, I think Luther is pleased to have escaped gaol. He’ll not bother us again.” It had been Aiden who had subtly suggested her relatives move far away and had also provided them with a stipend to survive on. “You are a kind and good man, husband.”

Husband.

How she loved the sound of that word most of all. She turned and faced Aiden, taking joy in the feel of his body so close to hers. “I think you promised me something, sir, and I am an impatient woman.”

His brow creased a fraction.

“Upstairs,” she whispered in his ear. “For I love you, Aiden, and will, forever and ever.”

“I think then, sweet Tess, that we have somewhere else to go, for I too love you, and praise the day I met a rogue highwayman on the road.”

…

There will soon be a new lady about the
ton

And look out for the gallant from exotic shores

A tryst perhaps for the English Rose and the Thorn.

Mirabelle’s Musings

April 1814

Acknowledgments

To my wonderful Editor, Erin Molta, for all her hard work and dedication to helping me make this book wonderful. Thank you.

About the Author

For author Jane Beckenham, there’s nothing better than people-watching. In her world, she never knows what story it may inspire her to write.

Jane’s world is one of happy-ever-afters which is just as well, since after a blind date Jane found her true love and married him eleven months later.

Life has been a series of dreams for Jane. Dreaming of walking again after multiple surgeries. Dreaming of raising a family and subsequently flying to Russia to bring home her two daughters. And dreaming of writing.

Writing has become Jane’s addiction—and it sure beats housework.

Connect with Jane:

www.janebeckenham.com

https://www.facebook.com/JaneBeckenhamAuthor

@JaneBeckenham

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