The Chaperon Bride. Nicola Cornick

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The Chaperon Bride - Nicola  Cornick


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workmen, meanwhile, were leaning on their spades, the carter’s mate was grinning, hands on hips, and Ellis Benson looked as though he thought he should intervene to support the tollkeeper, but really did not want to get involved. The carter unhooked the chain from across the road and urged the horse through.

      ‘Tell you what, Harry Castle, you’ve made yourselves no friends taking coin from that Ingram. Bloody thief, that man is.’

      Castle was sweating, the beads of perspiration running down his face.

      ‘I’m only trying to make an honest shilling from an honest day’s work, unlike you, Jem Marchant! What you got under that manure, then? Something you should be paying for, I’ll warrant!’

      ‘Why don’t you look then, nosy?’ The carter’s mate stuck his chest out aggressively. ‘Don’t like to get your hands dirty, do you?’ He spat out the straw he was chewing with deliberate insult in the direction of the builders. ‘Incomers!’ he said with disgust. ‘Ingram ’as to bring men in and pay them over the odds to do his dirty work for ’im.’

      A growl went through the ranks of the assembled workmen. Despite the hot sunlight the atmosphere seemed suddenly chill. The workmen were shuffling and looking as though they would like to use their spades on the carter and his mate, and only a sharp word from Benson held them back. The villagers were also angry, swaying like corn with the wind coming up. Annis realised that at any moment the whole situation could go up like a tinderbox.

      She backed towards the carriage, wishing now that she had not got down in the first place. The movement drew the attention of the carter’s burly mate.

      ‘Ain’t that Mr Lafoy’s carriage?’ He looked at Annis with sudden suspicion. ‘They’re all ’ere today, ain’t they? All Ingram’s vultures.’ He took a menacing step towards Annis.

      ‘Now just a minute,’ Castle said, the sweat dripping off his chin as he looked anxiously from Annis to the crowd, ‘this is Lady Wycherley from Starbeck, and no enemy of yourn. She may be a Lafoy, but she’s got nothing to do with Ingram.’

      It was enough to give the carter’s mate pause. He tugged his forelock a little bashfully. ‘Beg pardon, ma’am. Dare say you cannot help being Mr Lafoy’s cousin.’

      ‘Not really,’ Annis said. ‘It was something I was born with.’

      The carter tied his horse to a fence post and came bustling up. He thrust his face close to Annis’s own. ‘All the same, ma’am, you tell that Mr Lafoy that we don’t like turncoats up here in the valley. If he shows his face around here, he’ll be sorry—’

      Ellis Benson started forward, obliged to intervene at last. ‘How dare you threaten Lady Wycherley, man—’

      It was the spark that set light to the tinder. Within a second it seemed to Annis that the fists were flying as the villagers pelted Ingram’s workmen with stones and the carter and his mate set about Benson and Castle with gusto. Annis sidestepped the carter’s wildly swinging right fist and tried to gain the shelter of the carriage, but just as she reached it a stone hit the Lafoy crest on the bodywork beside her head and splintered into pieces. Annis felt a sharp sting along her cheekbone and put up a hand in astonishment. Her fingers came away with blood on them.

      There was a drumming of hooves on the road and the dust swirled up. Annis spun around. An arm went about her waist, scooping her off her feet, and the next moment she was on the saddlebow of a huge bay stallion, whose rider brought the dancing creature sharply under control with a single flick of the reins. The whole experience, so quick and so sudden, literally took her breath away; looking down from what seemed a great height, she realised that it had had a similar effect on the carter and his mate. Both had dropped their fists and were gaping up at her rescuer as though the hand of God had intervened.

      ‘What the devil is going on here?’ Adam Ashwick’s incisive tones cut across the fight and brought all the men there to their senses. They fell apart from each other, panting heavily, hanging their heads, dropping the stones and shovels that had served them as weapons. Castle put up his sleeve to staunch the blood running from a cut on his forehead. Benson, who seemed to have had the best of the fight owing to a promising amateur career in pugilism, straightened up and pushed the hair back from his forehead.

      ‘Lord Ashwick!’

      ‘Benson.’ Adam’s tone was menacing. ‘I do not believe that your employer pays you to come to fisticuffs on the king’s highway?’

      Benson’s glance turned to Annis. ‘I beg your pardon, Lord Ashwick. I was attempting to defend Lady Wycherley.’

      ‘Very commendable of you, Benson.’ There was amusement now in Adam Ashwick’s tone. ‘You may safely leave Lady Wycherley’s defence to me now.’

      Annis felt his breath stir her hair. She tried to turn to look at him, but he was holding her too tight and too close, with one arm still about her waist and the other holding the reins, and effectively trapping her in front of him. His chest was hard against her back and Annis could feel the beat of his heart. She kept very still.

      ‘Yes, my lord.’ Benson sketched a bow to Annis and turned away to marshal his workmen, and Adam reined in the chestnut stallion, which was tossing its head skittishly at the crowd. He raised his voice again.

      ‘Get back to work, all of you! Don’t you have better things to do than stand around here causing trouble?’

      ‘No, my lord!’ someone shouted. ‘This is as good as a play, and cheaper!’

      There was a rumble of laughter. The tension was dissipating now and the crowd started to chatter and melt away. Annis felt Adam’s arms relax a little about her, but he showed no signs of letting her go. He looked down at the hapless carter and his mate.

      ‘As for you, Marchant, and you, Pierce, I should haul you before the magistrates for breach of the peace!’

      The carter looked sheepish. ‘No harm done, m’lord. Apologies, my lady. We never meant to hurt you.’

      ‘Pay your toll and get going,’ Adam said abruptly. He turned his head and spoke in Annis’s ear.

      ‘And now, Lady Wycherley, what the deuce are you doing here?’

      Annis turned in his arms and found that his face was very close to hers. There was a frown between his brows and his gaze was very stern. At such close quarters Annis could see his features in perfect detail. His eyes, so cool and grey, were fringed by thick black lashes. There was a crease down one cheek that deepened when he smiled. His skin had a golden sheen and there was a trace of stubble darkening his jaw and chin. It felt odd to be so close to him. Odd in an entirely pleasurable way. Annis felt warm and a little light-headed. Her body softened almost imperceptibly against Adam’s and, as his arms tightened about her again, she saw a flash of desire mirrored in his eyes, hot, sudden, shocking.

      ‘What are you doing here?’ Adam repeated, very softly.

      Annis straightened up hastily.

      ‘I was paying my toll, my lord,’ she said acerbically. ‘As one does.’

      Adam’s gaze went from her flushed face to the carriage, and back again. ‘You are here alone?’

      Annis was starting to feel guilty as well as flustered. It made her more annoyed. ‘No. I am not alone. I have my coachman and groom.’

      ‘Lafoy’s coachman—and Lafoy’s coach.’

      Annis sighed sharply. ‘As you see, my lord. Would you let me down, if you please? Whilst I appreciate your intervention, I should like to continue to Starbeck now.’

      Adam shook his head. ‘Presently. I would like to speak with you first, if you please.’

      Annis opened her eyes wide. ‘Here?’

      ‘Why not?’ Adam gave her a crooked smile. ‘I find I rather like…our current situation.’

      Annis was not in


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