The Louise Allen Collection. Louise Allen
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How could he be so calm, so brave? ‘Lie still, you’ll make it bleed worse. Can you just raise your leg a little, I know it must hurt…’
Adam sat up fully. ‘Leave it.’ He got to his feet, pulling her up with him. Too amazed to resist, Decima stared at him.
‘Your leg—Adam, you must let me bandage it.’ But the blood had stopped completely now and the man facing her was standing squarely on both feet, not favouring either leg. The grey eyes watching her were unclouded by pain, or any sign of fear for Olivia’s fate.
‘You aren’t wounded at all!’ She stared at the jagged tear in his buckskins, the blood-soaked leather. ‘How did you do that?’ Her heart was still pounding with the aftermath of fear and frantic action, her arms ached from the effort of holding the plunging team and she felt sick with reaction.
Adam shook his right arm and a knife slid out from the sleeve into the palm of his hand. ‘Sausage casing filled with pig’s blood in my breeches pocket.’
Decima reacted without any thought. Her right hand went back of its own accord and she hit him, flat on the cheek. ‘You idiot! Henry’s armed, someone will get killed!’
Adam rocked back on his heels, but made no other move to avoid her blow. ‘Bates swapped Henry’s ammunition for blanks before we started. The only person with a loaded gun is me, and that’s here.’ He patted a coat pocket. ‘My two assistants have blanks in their pistols as well and by now I imagine they will have proved singularly inept kidnappers and will have abandoned the curricle and Olivia in it. Come on, I am sorry you were frightened, but it’s all in a good cause.’
‘Frightened? I was terrified. And Olivia—can you imagine how she is feeling?’ Decima gathered up her skirts and ran to catch up with him. ‘Adam, what do you think you are doing?’
He glanced down at her, a smile twisting his mouth. ‘Match-making. I am sure Olivia would consider ten minutes of terror a fair exchange for not having to marry me.’
‘But…’ Decima found she was having to run again. He strode on, leaving her staring after him, her mouth half open. ‘But unless you propose to die of your wound and stay dead, how is this charade going to help?’
‘I am relying on human nature and on your friend Henry’s abilities as a chivalrous hero to carry the day. Now, stop hectoring me for a moment, Decima, you may lecture all you like in a minute.’ The two highwaymen were riding out of the copse, masks gone to reveal the grinning faces of young men on a spree. Neither of them looked capable of anything more vicious than an inn brawl over a girl.
‘All went according to plan, my lord,’ one of them reported, touching his battered tricorne hat to Decima. ‘We let go of the curricle just where you said, and made sure the reins got tangled in a bush—it wasn’t going anywhere. The young lady’s all right, I’d say—shrieking fit to bust, though. Would Henry be the short blonde gentleman?’
‘Yes,’ Adam agreed.
‘He’s well in, then,’ the groom observed with a grin, remembered Decima’s presence, and broke off in confusion.
‘Good work. Off you go, and for goodness’ sake tidy yourselves up before you hit the turnpike or I’ll be bailing you out of the local clink on suspicion of being on the High Toby.’
They rode off in high spirits and Decima took full advantage of his permission to lecture. ‘How can you be sure they will hold their tongues? Is this going to be spread all over town? We will be a laughing stock and the scandal will ruin Olivia,’ she stormed as they entered the copse.
‘They are grooms of mine, they are completely trustworthy and they think they are helping me win a wager with Sir Henry.’
‘Of all the improbable stories! They will never fall for that.’
‘Decima, they are eighteen years old, ripe for a spree and certain that the nobility can be relied upon to carry on in a completely incalculable manner. This just proves it. Now hush, we are almost at the house and I don’t want Henry’s attention distracted from calming Olivia down.’
They were emerging where the edge of the thicket met the overgrown pleasure grounds of the house. Adam turned and began to lead Decima towards the back. There was a small rustic summerhouse and he pushed open the door. ‘Come in here and let me explain.’ Reluctantly Decima let herself be seated on one of the benches that ran around the inside of the little shelter.
Adam shut the door and leaned against it, his face serious in the shadowed room. ‘This is not a joke and not something I am doing lightly, whatever you may think. I should never have offered for Olivia. The circumstances made it impossible not to, and I cannot explain more than that—if she feels she can tell you about it, she will. Once we found ourselves in that position I could not withdraw. At first I thought she could, and might if she realised that I was quite the wrong husband for her. But I had no idea at first just what a degree of subjugation she is held in by her parents’ influence. Her mother in particular. Olivia could no more defy her mother than fly. And then I saw what was happening between her and Henry Freshford. At last I could see a way out.’
‘You saw? I couldn’t understand why you were so tolerant!’ Decima shook her head, still puzzling. ‘Henry loves her, but he is trying to do the honourable thing. Nothing has been said between them, I am sure of it.’
‘So am I,’ Adam retorted grimly. ‘And while I did everything to remind Olivia just how miserable she would be married to me, I did my best to throw her together with Freshford. Your helpful efforts to reconcile her to the match were most unwelcome, I have to say.’
‘But I—’
‘You acted out of friendship and the most honourable of motives, I know.’ He smiled at her and something inside Decima quivered into life. Hope. ‘It is one of the things I love about you.’
Love? Did Adam say love? Decima found her hands were twisting tightly in her skirts and she forced herself to relax them. He loved her as a friend, that was all. They had been talking about friendship.
‘I could see that nothing was going to undermine Freshford’s sense of honour or Olivia’s rigid obedience, other than a major crisis, so I engineered one. I could have gone to him, told him I knew of his feelings, and assured him of my support. But we would never have got Olivia to admit the truth and face up to her mama. And what she would see as certain disgrace.’ Adam grimaced. ‘It took me days to think of something sufficiently convincing, yet that would put none of you at risk.’
‘But has it worked?’
‘Let’s find out.’ Adam held out a hand and Decima took it, her fingers enveloped in his. She was still shaken, but her anger had given way to a feeling of deep apprehension. What if this elaborate ruse had not worked?
They crept up to the back door. Adam reached up and retrieved a key from the ledge above and gently opened it, leading Decima into a kitchen, clean, equipped, but cold and unused. Walking with catlike tread despite his boots, Adam began to move out of the kitchen, along a passage and through the heavy baize-lined door that separated the servants’ world from that of their masters.
They were in the front hall. All the doors were closed except one, standing ajar on the right-hand side of the front entrance. Adam led the way until they were standing outside. He kept her hand in his and Decima found herself clinging to him, as though bracing herself to hear bad news.
‘They have gone.’ It was Henry’s voice, strong and reassuring. ‘They will have no way of knowing who else is here, and one of them is wounded. They will be off, thinking we can summon the constables. It’s all right now, Olivia. I am here.’
There was the sound of a muffled sob, then feet moving on the boards and Henry’s voice again, less clear. ‘There, there, Olivia, you are quite safe with me.’
‘I know. You were wonderful.’ The adoration in Olivia’s voice was touching. Decima shifted, uncomfortable at eavesdropping. ‘So wonderful.