His Wicked Charm. Candace Camp
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makeshift weapons. Kyria studied the first man Con had dispatched. “Though I was looking forward to bashing that fellow in the head.”
“You can have a go at him now, if you’d like,” Con told her cheerfully.
“That hardly seems sporting.”
Con hugged each of his sisters as they gathered in the kitchen, putting away their makeshift weapons. The Morelands, Lilah had noticed over the course of the past few weeks, were very prone to embracing one another. It had startled her at first, but Lilah was becoming accustomed to it now, and she was unsurprised when the women went on to hug her, too.
Thisbe patted Con on the cheek. “I knew you would find us, even though our trail must have been cold.”
“We followed your bread crumbs.”
“That was Olivia’s idea,” Thisbe said.
“A very good one.” He embraced Olivia last, pulling the small woman up off her feet.
“I was afraid they would get blown away or trampled, but it was the best I could think of.”
“You seem to have managed well on your own.” Con cast a glance at the man who had fallen down the stairs. “I feel quite unnecessary.”
“Oh, you’ll be very useful,” Olivia tossed back. “We need to tie up these men.”
“Yes, starting with this one.” Con pointed to the man he had fought, who had let out a groan and was now shifting restlessly. Con unfastened his cravat and squatted down to turn the man over and tie his hands behind his back. “What about him?” Con pointed to the ruffian who had come tumbling down the stairs. “Did you kill him?”
“Oh, no, he’s breathing,” Thisbe offered. “Mother just cracked him in the head with the washbasin pitcher.”
“This is all of them?”
Thisbe explained, “No, there was another one who was here when we arrived, but he escaped out the window and down the drainpipe.”
“How is Meg?” the duchess asked. “We weren’t sure what happened to her.”
“She’s probably going to have a black eye, and she was unconscious for a while—she hit her head on the ground when the thug hit her. But she was able to tell us what happened.”
They spent the next few minutes finding things with which to tie the men, who were beginning to awaken by the time they finished.
“What shall we do with them?” Kyria asked, using a glass-fronted cabinet as a mirror to repin the disarranged strands of her hair.
“I suspect your husbands would like to have a chat with them,” Con said. “So we’d best load them into their van and take them back with us.” He frowned. “Thing is, we have two vehicles. We could leave these chaps here while I drive you ladies home. Then Rafe and Stephen and I can come back to collect them later.”
“Leave them here tied up all that time?” The duchess frowned. “That doesn’t seem safe. What if something happened to them?”
“Mother, these chaps just abducted you and held you prisoner.”
“Obviously, they are criminals, but the goal should be to reform, not just—”
“More important,” Olivia put in before the duchess could gain steam, “they might manage to escape if we leave them alone here together.”
“But if I take them back, you ladies will have to remain here,” Con pointed out.
“Con, really, do you think I cannot drive a wagon?” Emmeline asked. “You know I was a country squire’s daughter. I learned to drive all the wagons and carts on the farm.”
Lilah doubted that driving wagons was part of the education of most country squires’ daughters, but it was little surprise that the duchess had done so.
“You take the girls home in the carriage, and I’ll follow you in the wagon,” the duchess decreed.
“Very well, if you will agree to take someone with you, just in case,” Con countered, clearly accustomed to bargaining with his mother. “You have just been through an ordeal.”
Con’s mother gave him an indulgent smile. “Miss Holcutt can ride with me. She can take the reins if I grow too feeble, since she was not abducted.”
“Though riding around with Con doubtless qualifies as an ordeal,” Kyria stuck in with a grin at her younger brother.
“Thank you, I would be happy to,” Lilah told the duchess. It would be better not to spend the ride back to London with Con again. At least she wouldn’t be lying when she told Aunt Helena that she spent the evening with the duchess.
“There. All settled. Let’s get these fellows into the wagon and go home. I haven’t eaten since breakfast, and I’m beginning to feel a mite peckish.”
Con had bound the men’s hands behind their backs and hobbled their feet, so they were able to march the still-dazed men out and load them into the wagon with only a little struggle. The duchess and Lilah climbed up onto the driver’s seat, which was much higher but far less comfortable than the one on the carriage, and set off.
To Lilah’s amazement, the duchess seemed cheerful, even invigorated. “Con’s job is actually harder,” she told Lilah, handling the reins with expertise. “Carriage horses are more mettlesome and easily spooked than these work horses. Though the carriage is better sprung,” she added as they jounced over the rough dirt lane. “Would you like to learn? I could teach you when we get on a better road.”
Lilah blinked. “I hadn’t thought of it. But yes, I believe I would.”
Her gloves, of course, were the wrong sort for the task, and she wasn’t sure how she would explain the wear and smudges on them to her aunt, but Lilah thoroughly enjoyed the lesson. The duchess was a clear and patient teacher, if somewhat inclined to inattention, and the horses were as amiable and plodding as Emmeline had suggested, giving Lilah time to correct any mistake she made.
Her shoulders and arms began to ache after a while, and once again she found her stiff corset a nuisance, but she kept doggedly at it. The thought of Con’s reaction to her newly minted driving skills was enough to keep her going.
The duchess took back the reins when traffic grew thicker as they neared London. Lilah was astonished at how little time it had taken to drive the route, which had appeared so endless earlier.
A footman on the front stoop at Broughton House ran back inside as soon as he caught sight of them. By the time the duchess pulled up, welcoming relatives and servants had spilled out onto the street. They were swept inside in a hubbub of questions, embraces and laughter. After the initial greeting, most of the men went outside to deal with the kidnappers, while the women split up to go upstairs and change out of their grimy clothes.
Con turned to Lilah. “I told Jenkins to keep the carriage out front. I thought you would want to get home as soon as possible.”
“Oh. Of course. It is terribly late.”
Con was right. Aunt Helena was doubtless upset about Lilah’s spending the day here in such an unplanned, casual way; arriving home later in the evening would be worse. Nor was there any reason to remain. Lilah had done all she could. And yet…Lilah felt disappointed at the way Con was rushing her out. Perhaps he thought she had no place here, that she had pushed her way into what was purely family business—which, of course, she had.
A faint flush rose in Lilah’s cheeks. She had acted in an unaccustomedly inappropriate way. Awkwardly, she went on, “I shall take my leave. Please give my regards to your family. I’m very happy they are home safe.” She started toward the door, glancing over at Con in surprise when he stayed by her side. “There’s no need to escort me to the carriage.”
“There is if I intend to get in it, too.” He arched an eyebrow at her.