Page 88 of An Alleged Rogue

Phoebe swung around. A man stood beside the tree, brandishing a thick branch that glowed at the tip with a smoldering burn. Her eyes darted to Oliver, and her mouth went dry. Had this stranger felled him with his makeshift weapon? She wrapped her hands around the handles of the buckets and faced him.

“On the contrary,” she said. The smoke was making her voice rasp, but at least it hid her fright. “I intend to take every one.”

He stepped toward her. “I think not.”

Even as her knees quaked, she stood her ground, straining to see him through the smoke and darkness. Shoulder-length hair, dark-colored coat, light-colored breeches.

“Who are you?”

“Lord Dunsbourne’s scourge.”

Freddie Payne. Phoebe took a shaky step back. Dear heaven, what was he doing here? He was supposed to be in London.

Voices—urgent, panicked—reached her through the smoke and brought her back to the nightmare around them.

“You did this! You set the tumps alight.”

Even in the poor light, she could see his teeth glint. “It was good of Dunsbourne to provide the fuel for his final downfall, was it not?”

Anger coursed through her veins, and she raised her head. “You are a vile human being, Mr. Payne. And nothing you can do will stop the people at Dunsbourne Manor from fighting this fire.”

“Oh, and how many people would that be? Three? Four? Is the baron so desperate for help that he is forced to rely on the daughter of his neighbor to lend a hand?” He laughed. The evil cackle sent shivers down Phoebe’s spine, and she turned and ran. The buckets clanged against each other as she swerved around the trees. His footsteps pounded behind her, but she kept her eyes on the fire, knowing that the closer she was to the flames, the closer she would be to other people. The trees began to thin. The smoke intensified, clogging her throat. Raising one arm, she covered the lower half of her face with her elbow—and missed a step. She stumbled. Behind her, Payne must have swung his branch club because it clipped her across the shoulder, and she fell to the ground.

Payne was at her side instantly. He reached for her arm, clamping his fingers around it like a vice.

“Get up,” he growled.

Gripping the handle of the only bucket still within reach, Phoebe swung it high and wide. It hit him across the cheek. He cursed, tightening his hold still more and shaking her until she felt that her teeth might fall out.

“Do that again, and I’ll leave you in the same state as the other bloke.” He yanked her toward the break in the trees. “It’s time for me to leave, and you’re going to ensure that I have safe passage.” He dropped the branch in his other hand and tore his cravat free of his neck. Then he stood with his face inches from hers, his pale-gray eyes shining with hatred. “If you try to escape or call out before I put this gag around your mouth, I will turn around and set light to the bushes around the manor. Understood?”

Phoebe fought back her tears. “Yes.”

In one movement, he released her arm and pulled the cloth across her mouth. She gagged and then began to cough. He paid no heed, cinching the fabric tight behind her head before ripping the kerchief off from around her neck. She cried out but the sound went no farther than the cravat in her mouth, and before she knew what he was about, her wrists were bound behind her.

Reclaiming her arm in one hand, he picked up his smoldering branch in the other. “This way, Miss Hadford.”

Chapter 28

“I say, Dunsbourne. What do you make of that?”

Adam forced his eyes open. After a solid twelve hours of hard labor in the cart shed, followed by an almost sleepless night in the Hadfords’ carriage, and a chase through the streets of London, exhaustion had finally caught up with him on the return journey. He did not know how long he had been asleep, but judging by the ache in his neck, it had been some time.

He shifted his position and turned his attention to Mr. Hadford. “I beg your pardon.”

“Look out of your right-side window.”

Adam complied. “It looks like a fire.”

“My thoughts exactly. Any idea what might be burning? It appears to be quite large.”

“To be honest, sir, I could not even tell you what county we are in at the moment.”

“Berkshire. Passed through High Brodmore not more than two minutes ago.”

Adam stiffened, all trace of sleep gone. Other than his years away at school, he had lived in this area his entire life. Whatever was ablaze would be familiar to him. He stared through the window, searching for landmarks in the dark. The light seemed to be coming from a hollow. He could just make out the shadowy form of the rolling hills on either side. Smoke made the view hazy, but the closer the carriage drew, the more his heart began to pound.

“Signal the driver to go faster.”