Page 63 of The Virgin Who Humbled Lord Haslemere
And then…pandemonium, as everyone scrambled from their vehicles at once.
“Don’t move, Georgiana.” Benedict swept her off to the side of the road, away from a battle that was already shaping up to be an ugly one. Kenilworth’s coachman scrambled down from the box, and the two footmen erupted from the carriage, shouting and cursing. “Promise me!”
Georgianadidn’tpromise, but they were already in the midst of the frenzy by then, and there was no time for Benedict to do anything but dart for the coach. A child’s terrified cries rose from inside, swelling above the commotion. “Freddy!”
“Mind the coachman’s pistol, Haslemere!”
Before Benedict could react to Brixton’s warning a sharp crack echoed in the night, and a pistol ball flew past his head, a mere fraction away from striking his temple.
“Benedict!”
The night tried to steal Georgiana’s scream. Benedict heard her, but when he turned back, she was no longer there. He whirled around, his heart rushing into his throat when he caught a glimpse of her dark red skirts rounding the side of Kenilworth’s carriage.
“Georgiana!” He started to go after her, but one of Kenilworth’s footmen charged at him and knocked him to the ground. He rolled and was up again in a flash, his fists clenched and a snarl on his lips, but Grigg, who was small and wiry, had leapt onto the man’s back and was pressing his forearm into his windpipe.
“Good man, Grigg.” Benedict wiped his eyes to clear the dust, then seized ahold of the footman. “Let him go. I’ve got him. Go after Miss Harley.”
Grigg dropped nimbly to the ground and darted around the side of the carriage while Benedict dragged the footman, who was still choking and coughing, to the side of the road and, with one powerful shove, heaved himinto the ditch.
Benedict whirled around again to find Brixton making quick and brutal work of the other footman. The man’s hand was pressed to his nose, blood spurting through his fingers and gushing down his chin. “Here, Brixton!”
Brixton turned, and Benedict jerked his head toward the ditch. “Over the side. Neither of them is climbing up from that holeanytime soon.”
A ferocious grin spread over Brixton’s face as he dragged the man through the dirt to the edge of the embankment and tossed him gleefully over the edge. “Yer smarter than ye look, Haslemere.”
“I’m just glad we’re on the same side,” Benedict muttered as he charged back toward the coach with Brixton on his heels. The only one of Kenilworth’s men who was unaccounted for was the coachman, but he was the one who had the pistol,and Georgiana…
Georgiana was nowhere to be seen.
“The lass?” Brixton shouted.“Where’s the—”
They caught sight of her at the same time, hurrying around the back of the coach, Freddy in her arms. Waiting for her on the other side, just out of her sight, was the coachman, his pistol drawn.
A sound tore from Benedict’s throat, a cry of warning, deep and raw and painful, and then he was running, his boots sliding over the loose dirt, his heart pounding, his gaze fixed on the muzzle of the pistol as it lifted, aimed…and then, incredibly he was there, seizing the man’s wrist and wrenching it into the air, a blast ripping through the night as Benedict slammed the man into the side of the coach.
Brixton was on them the next second. “Into Haslemere’s carriage,” he shouted to Georgiana as he snatched the pistol from the coachman’s hand. “Both of you. Hurry, lass.”
Georgiana hardly spared them a glance as she darted past them, but instead of doing as Brixton bid her, she shoved Freddy into Grigg’s arms, then turned and rushed back toward the coach.
“Georgiana!” Benedict roared. “Get back—”
“Some help, Haslemere?” Brixton was pressing the coachman’s face into the dirt, grunting as the man howled and cursed and thrashed to get free.
Benedict grabbed the man by the collar and hauled him to his feet. “Quiet, you bloody villain,” he snarled as he dragged him across the road, and without the slightest hesitation, tossed him into the ditch. To his shock, Brixton scrambled after the man, skidding and slipping down the side of the ditch, the coachman’s pistol still in his hand. “Brixton, what thedevilare you doing?”
“Never mind me. Fetch the lass, Haslemere.”
“Don’t shoot them,” Benedict warned before he turned and flew back to the coach. Georgiana was just emerging from the thick cloud of dust raised by the scuffle, her arm around Jane’s shoulders as she helped her toward his carriage. “Jane!”
Jane’s head jerked up. “Benedict!” She rushed toward him.
Benedict gathered her into his chest, his eyes closing. “Jane, thank God. You’re not hurt?”
“N-no, but you have to listen to me, Benedict.” Jane clutched at his coat with frantic fingers, struggling to catch her breath. “Youmustleave this alone! Promise me, Benedict—swear to me you won’t dig any further into the duke’s secrets.”
“I can’t do that, Jane. Iwon’t.” Benedict’s heart broke to see her in such distress, but Kenilworth had tried to kidnap her and Freddy, damn him. There was no going back from that. “Tell me what Kenilworth has done, Jane. Why are you so frightened of him?”
“You have no idea what he’s capable of, Benedict. He…he’ll make you pay, just like…” Jane trailed off, herface crumpling.
