Page 13 of Outrageous

He shook his head, as if waking from a daze. Eva could see she would be in for another scold the moment they were alone together.

“Come, make haste, James. Tie Lor—er—tie Captain Desjean’s hands.”

Eva couldn’t have said which of the two men looked more disgusted: the earl or her servant.

Well, she didn’t care. “Put him in the carriage once you’ve secured him. I shall talk to our rescuers.”

The two young men were together now, both guns trained on the earl as James tied his hands behind his back.

Eva slowed her walk and swayed her hips more. In her mind’s eye she thought of The Kitten, a woman so beautiful and elegant and sought-after, it made Eva’s teeth hurt. She willed herself to be The Kitten and lowered her lids, regarding the two gaping men from beneath her lashes.

“I cannot thank you enough for your bravery,” she gushed in a breathy voice that was not her own. She stopped to the side of them, not wishing to insert herself between the armed young men and the earl—who’d turned toward them so she could see his derisive smile. Eva donned a smile of her own, thrusting out her chest the way The Kitten did. The men’s eyes dropped to her bosom and their brows furrowed, making her recall her clothing.

“He dressed me this way to hide me,” she explained, fluttering her eyelashes since a heaving bosom was no good for seduction if it was covered by a coat. She clasped her hands together, hoping to appear harmless, and leaned closer. “My father shall reward you both richly when we deliver this villain to him.”

The two men looked at each other uncertainly. “Your father, my lady?”

“Why yes, that is where we are headed. He has a country house in—” She stuttered for a moment. Why would Visel have kidnapped her and now be taking her to her father’s house?

“Taking you to your father’s house, was I?” the earl taunted, fully facing them now.

“’Ere, you,” the smaller of the two postilions said, waving his pistol in an anxiety-provoking manner. “When we needs to ’ear a peep out o’ you, we’ll tell you.”

Eva smirked. “Yes, just so—no peeping until you are ordered to do so,” she said to Visel before turning to the postilion, relieved to leave behind the subject of country houses. “Thank you, kind sir. What is your name?”

“Jemmy, my lady.” He bowed and doffed his hat, forgetting there was a pistol in his hand and delivering a loud clunk to his forehead.

It was not easy to keep a straight face.

“I don’t think we can do that, my lady,” the other boy said, his expression much sharper than his compatriot’s. Right now he’d fixed his gaze on Visel and his features had taken on a speculative cast. “He might be a Frenchie spy, but our employer tells us not to get mixed up in shenanigans.” His intelligent gray gaze moved from Visel to Eva. “And this feels like shenanigans.” His eyes swept her person and it was not only—or even largely—with appreciation. “We’ll take you to the next town—there’s a magistrate not far away. You can wait at the inn while word is sent.”

“Bravo,” Visel said, laughing. “That is a capital idea.”

Eva shot him a narrow-eyed look and glared at James, who hastily turned the earl and assisted him into the carriage.

“Oh, I say, Ollie,” Jemmy said before Eva could protest. “Can’t we just drop ’im off and take her ladyship to her father?”

Ollie shook his head. “No, we’ll let the magistrate sort this out, Jem, or it might be our jobs.” Eva could see that was a compelling argument to the other boy, who had been three-quarters besotted and her slave before his companion had scuppered it.

As if she’d spoken out loud, Ollie looked at her again. This time there was naked suspicion in his gaze. “How come your man there didn’t get you out of this?” he asked, gesturing toward James, who’d just put Visel inside and turned around.

James gave her an I told you so look.

Eva had been wondering from the beginning of her lie why James had docilely played along, so she was prepared with another lie.

“Captain Desjean has my younger sister, too. He said he would hurt her if we did not do as he said.”

A hoot of laughter came from inside the carriage and Eva gritted her teeth.

Ollie’s eyes flickered back and forth and he shook his head slowly from side to side. “We’re bringing you to the magistrate—all three of you. This ain’t for the likes of us to decide.” He motioned toward the carriage. “You ride in there with them,” he told James, pointing with the gun. Eva opened her mouth, but Ollie shook his head. “Please, my lady. I shouldn’t want to tie the two of you up like the Frenchie. But there is just something about this whole thing that don’t smell right. If everything you say is true, the magistrate will see that you get to your father.”

Eva was impressed by Ollie’s fortitude in the face of aristocratic displeasure but couldn’t help wishing he was more like his friend.

“Very well,” she said. “I’m sure the magistrate will see the truth of the matter.”

Yes, and then she would be in the very deepest of trouble.

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