Page 21 of A Rogue to Ensnare

A sharp pang stabbed Miles’ chest and his stomach seemed to fall. “What happened?”

The boy was crying now, heavy tears streaking down his face as his nose reddened, and he sniffed loudly. “She was fighting two men. They tied her and covered her with a blanket and put her over a horse. One of them got up behind her and rode away.” The little boy pointed. “They went down the back-alley way.”

Miles quickly mounted his own horse and gathered the reins. “Remain here. When the driver returns, tell him what happened. Tell him Lord Miles has gone after her.”

Not waiting for a reply, he urged his horse to a gallop, rounding the building and heading down the narrow, garbage strewn street toward the part of town women like Siobhan should never know existed.

But where had they taken her? He should have asked more questions of the boy. What direction, exactly? What did the horse look like? What had she been wearing? What did they look like? If there were two men, did one of them walk while the other rode? Did they stay together? Were they separate?

He was a fool. He cursed himself, but didn’t want to circle back to ask. Instead, he hoped he’d just find her and get her back to safety.

Up and down different streets he raced, without seeing any sign of her. The entire time, he prayed nothing sinister had befallen the beautiful woman. Leaning forward, he searched each alleyway and building enclave for signs of her or the man or men who’d taken her.

He was becoming disheartened when a scream tore through the air. Please, God, let it be Siobhan. As much as he didn’t want her to need to scream, in reality it was the only way he’d find her.

His heart thumping against his breastbone, Miles whirled his horse in the direction the scream had come from and several moments later he finally caught sight of the other horse.

Atop a horse that was better suited for pulling a wagon, a man held a woman wrapped in a blanket against his body as they raced down a narrow street. The blanket had shifted, and her feet protruded from beneath it. He could see that she’d been tied at the ankles, and now was flopping like a fish in the man’s grasp, her toes thumping the horse’s shoulder. As he grew closer, he could see the other side of the blanket shifting and falling, and finally, he could see the top of her head and that beautiful, glossy black hair. A few people peered out the windows, but no one came out to help.

Mentally he prayed she’d not tumble from the horse; the fall could seriously cause harm, especially if the horse managed to kick her.

Once again she began screaming, the sound of it fueling his rage. He was still far behind, but his quick riding horse was closing the distance; the draft horse the man rode lumbered steadily but slowly and was no match for Miles’ sleek thoroughbred.

He appeared to be pushing his hand under the blanket and withdrew it with a yelp as if he’d been bitten. “Ow! Ye foul wench. Keep that gag in yer mouth and stop yer struggling.”

The screaming stopped. But so had the struggling. Was she all right? Heart in his throat, Miles dug his heels into his horse’s side and the sensitive animal responded with a burst of speed, quickly gaining on the horse better suited for plowing a field or pulling a turnip wagon.

He glared at the startled man. “Stop at once!”

The man was obviously surprised at his presence, his rounded eyes taking him in. Instead of stopping, the idiot shook his head. “Go away. This woman…she is…She is my unmanageable wife.”

The woman under the blanket gave an especially violent movement and it fell open, revealing Siobhan’s face and her wide eyes. Siobhan worked her jaw and the cloth between her lips fell away as she spit it out, reminding Miles so much of an angry cat, it was hard not to smile. Or maybe he felt that way because of the relief flooding his system. “I should bite you again.” She glared over her shoulder at the man. “Let me go!”

“I know the lady. She is not your wife!” Miles leaned over and attempted to grab the reins. The man fought to keep a hold on Siobhan while managing his quickly-slowing horse.

Despite the man’s frantically thumping his heels in the big animal’s sides, it ignored him and drew to a stop with a great sigh. Then it shook its huge head and yawned, flicking its ears and tail as if swishing away flies. Not meant for riding and not especially well-trained, the animal nickered to Miles’ horse and shuffled its giant hooves on the pavement, refusing to budge even when the man kicked his heels into its sides.

“Release her,” Miles instructed. “I will not ask again.”

Face twisted in anger, the man threw Siobhan to the ground. His horse, startled by the rapid movement and flying blanket edges leapt ahead in surprise, nearly unseating the man. The big animal moved away at a gallop instead of its previous shuddering trot and the man became partially unseated. He desperately clung to its mane, shouting, “Whoa, y’ daft beast!” The horse rounded the corner of a building, and the man flew into the other direction with a wail. But his fate did not concern Miles at the moment. What did concern him was Siobhan’s sudden and uncharacteristic silence.

He slid off his horse and hurried to her to find that the fall had knocked her unconscious. He felt for a pulse and found it, relief flooding to every part of his body. He made quick work of untying her hands and ankles, then lifted her in his arms, with her head resting on his shoulder. Her hair brushed his cheek and a faint scent of violets rose to his nostrils. He hadn’t even realized she smelled of violets; he hadn’t held her close before. Now he would never be able to smell violets again without thinking of Siobhan. If he hadn’t found her, he might have lost her.

Relief at having found her mixed with worry that she’d hit her head too hard. The fiery beauty was too quiet, and the serenity in her face was the kind only a complete lack of consciousness could bring.

Miles heard a carriage approaching and looked up to see it was the Blair family’s conveyance. He wasn’t sure how the man had found them and truly didn’t care; the only important thing was that he was here.

The driver pulled the horses to a stop and jumped from his seat to rush to them. “I collared that other fellow until he gave me an idea of where she was being taken. I’m glad you found her, my lord.” The man looked at Siobhan, and as he noted her stillness, the color drained from his face, leaving him pale.

It wasn’t enough of a reaction for Miles. He fought fury to maintain his composure—the man should never have left Siobhan alone; if he’d been in Miles’ employ, he would have terminated him immediately. As it was, he was too angry to trust what he’d say to the man. Instead, Miles motioned with his head to the horse. “Help me.”

The carriage would have been better but there was no way he was going to allow her out of his sight, or his arms. From now on, she was under his protection. God forbid the man return and manage to snatch her out of the carriage somehow. Even if it was unlikely, there was a risk.

It was cumbersome, but with the driver’s help, Miles managed to mount and hold her in his arms. After looking around, he finally gauged that they were much closer to his townhouse than her own.

When they arrived at his home, the entire staff came to life. The frantic and apologetic driver was quickly dispatched to notify Siobhan’s parents and a message was sent to the doctor.

Miles carried her to his bedroom as the guest room was not as comfortable. His housekeeper washed Siobhan’s face with a cool cloth. She’d yet to come to and it was worrisome.