Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
‘A little? I’m in agony here, Clara.’
She prods me in the shoulder and I wince, but quickly realise it is not a very good demonstration of exactly how much pain I’m claiming to be suffering.
‘Arhhhhh,’ I yell, trying to fix that.
‘You want another story,’ she says accusingly. ‘Pray tell me your logic, because I am struggling somewhat.’
‘You are not going to be killed,’ I assure her, resigning myself to indulging her and at the same time reassuring her. ‘The highwaymen are not murderers, Clara. They’re thieves. Quite charming ones, too. Lords and ladies who have encountered them merely claim terror to save their egos.’
‘Why would they do that?’
‘Because most of them willingly hand over their gold.’
She laughs. ‘Oh, please.’
‘It is true,’ I say quietly, wondering, not for the first time, why the highwayman left Papa untouched. Papa thought perhaps he considered him beneath Lady Rose, but he was dressed in his fine threads that day, and he always has a healthy sum on money on his person. I’m sceptical.
Quite some hours later, the landscape becomes more rugged, and I conclude quite quickly that the lack of horses trampling the ground, leaving the grass and bushes to grow undisturbed, is the reason why. I cannot deny, my heart is pounding in my chest as I scan the overgrowth, the tall bushes, the perfect place for highwaymen to hide. Are they hiding now, waiting in the dense wilderness for their prey?
‘You should have to pay the coachman danger money,’ Clara grumbles as I scan our surroundings, shaking the coins I have about my person. ‘What in the devil’s name are you doing?’ she blurts in horror. ‘Good God, you’re enticing them.’
Come on, give me something, I think to myself, watching the planes of land, tingles of excitement engulfing me. ‘I am of the op …’ My words fade, and I poke my head out of the carriage when I hear a familiar sound. ‘Did you hear that?’ I ask. The sound of hooves pounding the ground. ‘Stop the carriage!’ I yell, and Clara shoots forward in her seat abruptly on a yelp, forcing me to save her before she flies headfirst into the wood.
‘What the hell, Frank?!’
I gasp when a horse comes up alongside the carriage. ‘What on earth?’ I whisper as the Duke of Chester flanks us.
‘What in heaven’s name are you doing on Hampstead Heath,’ he asks, slowing his horse to keep with the speed of the carriage.
‘Is that Johnny?’ Clara asks, going to the window and sticking her head out. ‘Great,’ she sighs. ‘If the highwaymen don’t bludgeon us, the Duke will.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ I snap. ‘We have already established that our sister’s husband is not a murderer.’
‘Oh, Frank, please do not tell him I ran away. He will tell Eliza and Eliza will tell Mama and Mama will tell Papa.’
‘What else am I to say? We’re hardly here for a pleasant countryside jaunt, and my bloody shoulder is broken.’ I get out of the carriage as soon as it comes to a stop, hissing in pain as I do, and approach my brother-in-law, who looks as forbidding as he always does.
‘What are you doing, Frank?’ he asks, his jaw ticking in anger. He swings a long leg over his horse and stealthily dismounts.
‘I believe you already know, Your Grace.’ Let us not beat around the bush. I am sure Mama has gone to Eliza and wailed her worry, and, in turn, Eliza, the smart thing that she is, has figured out exactly where Clara has disappeared to and sent Johnny to track us down. I highly expect she tried to come herself, and I highly expect there were some stern words spoken between the newly married couple when Johnny refused to allow it.
Johnny looks to the coach where Clara is looking out the window, appearing as ashamed as she should. ‘Clara?’ he asks, obviously waiting for a show of remorse. I do not think he needs me to tell him that he will not get one. Her mouth is firmly shut. Until it isn’t.
‘Frank’s trying to entice the highwaymen,’ she blurts with urgency, jumping down from the carriage and swinging an arm out towards me. That’s it. I will kill her, I swear it. After everything I have just endured for her?
The Duke’s eyes widen as one would expect. ‘I cannot bel …’ He pauses, seeming to gather his patience. ‘Get back in that carriage and back to London before I … I …’ Another pause for breath. ‘I shall escort you home.’
‘She’s telling Banbury tales.’ I throw Clara a dark, warning look. ‘To distract us from her crimes.’
‘What is it with Melrose women?’ the Duke asks, his eyes turning onto my sister, his stance loosening.
‘You have a nerve.’ Clara stomps over to him, and her hands land on her hips. ‘Just because you are married to my sister, do not think you can speak to me in such a way.’ She scowls. ‘Your Grace.’