The Trouble With Princesses (22 page)

The girl frowned. “But his lordship said I weren’t ter let ye out o’ me sight.”

“I know, but I do not want to be late returning to the coach and if we both go back upstairs, I fear I shall be. He’ll be cross, wondering where I am. I don’t like to make him cross.” She met the young woman’s gaze, her own eyes pleading for understanding. “
Please.
If you’re quick, he’ll never know.”

The girl hesitated a few seconds more. “Ye go out ter the front and wait by the door. I’ll be back in a tick.”

And just like that, she was gone.

So was Ariadne.

The moment the girl was out of sight, she spun on her heel and raced for a nearby door that she prayed led outside. She planned to dash out and onto the mail coach at the very last instant and hope Selkirk didn’t see her board. As for the fare, she would worry about that once she was under way. Surely, despite what she’d told Selkirk, she could convince the coachman or one of the passengers to help her. She had jewels. She couldn’t believe there wouldn’t be at least one person willing to make a lucrative trade.

She hurried around the side of the building, careful to avoid any patches of muddy grass. Her slippers weren’t meant for travel and were nearing ruin as it was. Selkirk hadn’t thought to bring her a change of attire—another black mark for him—and she was still wearing the ball gown she’d had on the night of her abduction. Indeed, she had received odd looks at a few of the inns where they’d stopped, but no one had asked if she needed help, including the maid she’d just sent upstairs. No, getting free of Selkirk was up to her, and so she needed to make this opportunity count.

Luckily, the inn’s side yard was narrow and not much used, so she remained unnoticed. She slowed as she reached the front of the building, pressing herself close to the edge so she could peer around.

No sign of Selkirk, which was a relief. She needed a clear path to the coach, but it also left her wondering where he might be. Did he realize she had slipped the leash of her temporary jailer? Was he searching for her already?

Fear crawled in her belly, her heart thundering beneath her ribs. She stuck her hand in her pocket and curled her fingers around the fork she carried. It might not be much of a weapon, but at least it gave her an extra measure of courage.

As she watched, a few of the passengers she’d seen earlier began exiting the inn and climbing back into the coach. She scanned the inn yard, searching for some sign of Selkirk.

Moments later, the driver raised a hand to give some kind of signal, then went to slam shut the coach doors.

This was it.

Her chance.

Taking a deep breath, she left her place of concealment and ran as fast as her legs could carry her toward the coach.

The coachman was just closing the second door when she reached him. He looked up, startled.

“I am here and wish to board,” she stated, a strained quaver in her voice. She darted a glance behind her, wondering again how close Selkirk might be. To her relief, she did not see him.

“We’re just about to get under way, miss.” He raked his gaze over her obviously fine attire. “This is the mail coach, ye know.”

“I am aware of that fact and wish passage.”

“We’re full. There’s only one spot left on the roof.”

The roof?

She forced herself not to look horrified. “Any seat is acceptable. Now, please allow me to board.”

“Have ye paid yer fare?”

She considered lying, since there was no time to waste. But the man would find out if she’d indeed paid her way and she had no desire to be tossed back off. “No, but I will as soon as we get under way.”

He shook his head. “Sorry, but no one rides without paying. Why don’t ye wait for the next coach? I’ve got to get going. We’ve a schedule to keep.”

“Please,” she pleaded. “You must allow me to travel with you. I am in grave peril and must leave here immediately. You can have this brooch.” She pointed to the elegantly set cluster of diamonds and rubies pinned to her bodice. “It is worth far more than the fare.”

He eyed the jewelry. “Is it real?”

“Of course it is real,” she said indignantly. “Will you take it or not?”

“Well, it’s not the usual thing, but all right.”

She reached up and began to unfasten the brooch. She was just about to slide it free, when a hand clamped around her wrist.

No!
she screamed in her head.

“Pin that back on, my dear,” intoned Selkirk in a smooth voice. “There’s no need for you to barter your jewels or to ride in this vehicle.” From the corner of her eye, she saw him turn to address the coachman. “My wife and I had a small disagreement, you understand. She and I will work matters out between us as a married couple should.”

“He is
not
my husband!”

The driver and everyone in the coach stared at them.

But Selkirk merely smiled with supposed understanding. “Now, dear, you’re confused again, aren’t you?” He looked over at the coachman and spoke in a lowered tone as if sharing a confidence. “She suffers from bouts of memory loss, forgets things from time to time, such as our marriage. It’s the result of an unfortunate accident. I’m taking her home to the country, where we hope she will continue to heal.”

“He’s lying,” she protested. “He abducted me and is forcing me to travel with him to Scotland. He wants to marry me so he can steal my fortune.”

“As I’ve said, she’s confused.” Selkirk offered another smile, this one sadly resigned.

To her horror, Ariadne watched the expressions change on the faces of the coachman and the passengers, watched their interest turn to pity for her and belief in him.

“No! He only wants you to think that so you won’t help me. He’s lying. He’s a fortune hunter. He drugged me at a ball in London two nights ago and kidnapped me. That’s why I’m dressed the way I am. Please, all of you, you must believe me.”

Doubt returned to a couple of faces, but she could see it was useless now. No one was going to get involved. No one was going to help her.

The coachman looked between them, his expression severe. “Maybe you should take this up with the constable. Meanwhile, I’ve got a route to drive and I’m late. Sorry, missus . . . miss . . . whatever you may be.”

“No, don’t leave,” she pleaded.

But he was already climbing onto the box and taking up the reins. Still caught in Selkirk’s grip, she watched the mail coach drive away.

A small audience of hostlers and onlookers had gathered in the inn yard, having clearly been privy to the scene. She considered throwing herself on their mercy, but she knew there would be none to be had from them either.

Furious, she struggled to free herself from Selkirk’s grip. “Let me go.”

“I don’t think so,” he said in a low, harsh voice meant for her ears alone. “You’ve caused me enough trouble today as it is. Come along. We’re late leaving too.”

Tightening his grip even more, he began dragging her toward his coach.

But she dug her feet into the ground, struggling against his hold. She wasn’t going with him. She refused. No matter what, she wasn’t going to go quietly or without a fight.

Not even conscious of what she was about to do, she reached into her pocket and drew out the fork. Then, as hard as she could, she stabbed the tines into the top of his hand.

He yelled in pain and reared back, releasing his hold on her. “Damn and blast! What in Hades’ name did you do that for?”

And she was running, to where she had no idea. All she could think was to get away, however she might manage, as fast as she was able.

She heard a commotion behind her, a rush of voices, and the pounding of a pair of booted male feet. She ran harder, her satin-covered feet slipping on the earth. Suddenly a hand closed around her arm and pulled her to a halt.

No!
He was too fast. How had he caught up to her already?

She spun, fighting and struggling as she did, her other arm raised to defend herself. But as she moved to strike, she caught sight not of her dark nemesis but of a golden-haired angel instead.

She faltered, unable to believe what, or rather who, she was seeing.

It couldn’t be.

Rupert.

He’s found me.

He pulled her close, cradling her against his strong chest. “I’m here, Ariadne. You’re safe.”

And in that moment she knew she truly was.

Chapter Nineteen

A
s evening approached, Ariadne dozed, warm and comfortable inside the circle of Rupert’s arms, his broad shoulder making a remarkably excellent pillow.

She was traveling by coach once again, but this time she didn’t mind. The interior was luxuriously appointed, the ride smooth and seamless as the vehicle moved south along the highway with a quiet
shush
of the wheels and an occasional
clip-clop
of horses’ hooves.

What a difference a few hours made.

To think that only this morning she had sat anxious and miserable inside Selkirk’s coach, wondering how she could possibly extricate herself from his clutches.

Her escape attempt at the inn, such as it was, had proved a dismal failure. If not for Rupert’s timely arrival, she would still be under Selkirk’s control, riding in his wretched coach, with Scotland and an unwanted wedding just over the horizon.

At least she’d had the satisfaction of stabbing him with her stolen fork. Ordinarily she didn’t hold with physical violence, but after everything he’d put her through, she thought he rather deserved a bit of misery.

Of course, she was sure he was currently suffering a great deal more misery, considering the punishment he’d received at Rupert’s hands.

Once Rupert had determined that she was unharmed, he’d set her safely aside. Then he’d turned on Selkirk, literally chasing him down as the other man tried to climb into his carriage and escape. Rupert’s fury was truly frightening to behold as he grabbed Selkirk and laid into him with vicious intent.

Selkirk—no weakling himself when it came to physical confrontations—did his best to defend himself. Well known for his boxing prowess, he landed a few brutal blows of his own to Rupert’s stomach and jaw as the two men circled each other.

But Selkirk’s efforts seemed only to inflame Rupert all the more as he rained blow after blow down upon the other man.

For a horrifying minute, she’d feared Rupert might kill Selkirk, but abruptly he’d regained possession of himself and stopped the attack. With a line of blood trickling from his lip, he let the other man collapse to the ground in a groaning heap.

But his punishment of Selkirk hadn’t been fully complete. Leaning down, he smacked Selkirk’s bruised and bleeding face to make sure he was conscious. Then he spoke, his voice full of chilling menace. “Don’t ever come near her again, do you hear? If I find you within fifty feet of the princess, I won’t stop with just a beating next time. I may not be sovereign of this land, but I can make you disappear easily enough should I wish to do so. Do you understand me?”

Selkirk, eyes already swelling shut, had nodded. “Y-yes. I understand.”

“And if I hear of you kidnapping any other young women for their money, I’ll come after you for that as well.”

Rupert turned away, leaving Selkirk lying prostrate on the ground.

Ignoring the crowd of interested onlookers, Rupert had helped her into his coach—a plain black vehicle that bore no crest and gave no indication as to the identity of its occupant.

She hadn’t thought much of it at the time, but now she was grateful. No one would know she had been at that inn. Many might remark on the extraordinary fight between two gentlemen over a lady, but no one would realize the identities of the participants, since she was very sure Selkirk wouldn’t wish to be identified either.

She could almost feel sorry for him now.

Almost, but not quite, since he would have forced her to marry him had he managed to reach Gretna Green with her.

She shuddered at the thought.

“Did I wake you?” Rupert asked quietly. “I was hoping you would sleep.”

“No, I’m fine. I’ve just been thinking about the past couple of days.”

He rubbed a hand along her arm in a slow, soothing glide. “It’s over. You don’t have to think about it anymore. He won’t bother you again.”

“No, I heard what you said to him, so I’m sure he will not. I wonder if he’ll even return to London.”

His arm tightened briefly. “He won’t if he knows what’s good for him. And considering the financial straits he’s landed himself in, it’s doubtful on that score as well.”

“
Hmm
. He mentioned something about moneylenders and being desperate for funds. He thought he could solve all his problems by marrying me.”

“So I learned from his associate. That’s why I was late meeting you the night of the ball. He set a man to detain me—or rather to detain anyone who decided to wander near while he was busy trying to spirit you out of the house.”

He fisted a hand in obvious frustration. “If only I’d realized sooner and gotten past him in time to prevent this. Ariadne, I’m sorry. Sorry that I wasn’t there to stop him from taking you.”

“
Shh
. It wasn’t your fault. You could not have predicted what he meant to do. Even I had no idea at first. Then he held me at knifepoint and drugged me . . . Well, it was easy for him after that.”

“He threatened you with a weapon?” he said in outrage. “I knew I should have saved the beating and put a bullet between the blackguard’s eyes instead.”

“Well, I am glad you did not, for your sake more than his. I wouldn’t want murder on your conscience.”

“No, I suppose not.” But he didn’t sound entirely convinced.

She settled her head back on his shoulder again, everything silent except for the sounds of the coach moving down the road.

Beneath her, she could feel the tension in his body, a kind of coiled energy that he seemed to be holding in check.

“What is it?” she asked, laying a hand on his chest. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Just try to rest.”

“I’m rested. At least as much as I’m going to be for now.”