Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14

R afe, Will, and Caspian waited in the rain-soaked night not too far off from the road, their horses restless as they hid within a copse of trees.

“Are you certain we’ve never met before?”

Even a week later, Diana’s innocent question still haunted Rafe.

He had managed to convince Diana they had never met before the day she came to see Rosalind for tea, even though the lie was bitter on his lips. The way she’d looked at him, those brown eyes still searching for a hint of Tyburn that he was forced to conceal, made his heart clench with pain. Every instinct in him demanded he confess all of his truths to her.

He had never been overly bothered by telling lies, but lying to Diana, even to protect her, seemed to deepen the black stain it laid upon his soul. Yet it was a worthy burden to bear in order to protect her. Someday he would tell her the full truth, when he was done with these raids, when it was safe, but that was a distant, uncertain day.

“Molly promised the coach was coming this way tonight,” Caspian whispered as he adjusted his grip on the reins.

Molly, one of their trusted informants who worked in the taproom at the Wild Boar coaching inn, was more than happy to tell what she knew of the passengers who passed through the inn’s doorway, so long as Caspian took her upstairs and shared her bed. Caspian, far more reserved than Will, always came back down the stairs after such encounters with his face red from embarrassment but his eyes still half-lidded with satisfaction.

“One of these days, that poor wench will expect you to propose to her,” Will said with a chuckle.

Caspian kept his focus on the road ahead of them. “She won’t. I told her I cannot marry, ever. Besides, she thinks I’m some poor fellow from Yorkshire.” He added this last in a Yorkshire accent, which made Rafe and Will chuckle. Yet Rafe heard the pain in Caspian’s tone, which mirrored his own. They led lonely, dangerous lives. He was glad he could protect Diana from it, even though it meant risking his own to find a way to take care of her and Isla.

Unfortunately, the news from Molly hadn’t all been good. Molly had warned them that the guard for this coach had been doubled from two to four, so they most likely expected trouble. It made sense, given those imposters working in the same area. More robberies meant more efforts at security. “Is Molly sure about the number of guards?” Rafe asked.

“She’s never led us astray before,” said Caspian. “Most likely, Caddington is tired of having us steal his money.”

This should have worried Rafe. More guards meant they probably had orders to fight back. He should have been focused on Caddington, on the coach they would soon be robbing and how it would be far more dangerous this time. But all he could think about was Diana.

He had visited her every day during the last week, courting her in earnest. She’d had her doubts when he’d shown up with bouquets of flowers, asking her for long walks or rides in the country, but eventually she had agreed. The time they’d spent together had been satisfying in a way that bedding a woman never had been.

His brother had noticed a change in him and didn’t tease him whenever he mentioned he was going to see Diana. He would simply smile and nod. Rafe had stopped trying to earn his brother’s approval years ago, but now that he had it, he wasn’t sure how to react. All he knew was that he needed to be with Diana. Little else other than Isla mattered to him.

He ached to see Diana just as much when he rode away from the house as when he had first arrived. She had become his obsession, but in a quiet, deeper way than anything he’d ever been fascinated with in his life. He’d been able to bare his soul to her, to tell her nearly every secret, save the one that had him wearing his mask tonight.

Twice he’d taken Diana and Isla on picnics. Everything had felt so easy with the three of them, so right. It amazed him how much Isla was like Diana, how she’d turn her head at an angle, or the way she’d nibble on tarts or biscuits. He became overwhelmed with a sense of blissful contentment whenever he looked at these two ladies in his life.

Things were going so well that he was becoming frustrated.

He shouldn’t be allowing thoughts of her to distract him from the here and now. Now that he knew Caddington was delivering money to London, he would strike at the man in the only way that could hurt him—by emptying his pockets again and again. And if it furthered Rafe’s ability to support Isla and Diana, then it was all the better.

The sound of hooves and wheels could now be heard. “Here it comes,” Will hissed, calling Rafe’s attention back to the road.

Rafe and Caspian drew their pistols. They each had two more tucked under their cloaks because of Molly’s warning. They’d taken coaches with just as many men before, ones ready to fight to keep their purses. Will and Caspian were as well trained as Rafe in the art of swordplay as well as with pistols. They would be able to handle the additional men tonight, but it was important not to be overconfident.

The coach came around the bend of the road. Just as Rafe was ready to call the charge, a crack of gunfire interrupted him.

Impossible. They couldn’t already be spotted, could they?

Just then, three cloaked riders emerged from the woods on the opposite side of the road, closer to the coach than Rafe and his companions.

“Who the devil are they?” Will snarled as his horse reared up and stomped its hooves down in fury at being held back.

“Wait,” said Caspian. “You don’t think those are . . . ?”

“I’m afraid so,” Rafe growled. “It seems the men impersonating us are no longer content with taking our identities—now they are taking our targets as well.”

“The bloody cheek of them,” said Will. “Taking what’s rightfully ours to steal.”

Rafe watched the three imposters circle the coach. Their shouts were lost in the wind, but he knew what was happening. The night was not yet too dark, dusk having only passed an hour before, and rain clouds were only partly scattered across the sky.

Crack! Without warning, the four armed guards opened fire, smoke billowing out through the partially open coach doors, the flash of gunfire seen as white-hot bursts of light. After the imposters were caught off guard, the guards leapt out of the coach and pressed their advantage in the field of battle.

“The fools didn’t come armed like we did,” Rafe said as he realized what he was watching. He loosened his reins a bit as his horse danced with agitation.

“Pays to have a Molly on your side, eh?” Will said with a sly look to Caspian.

Rafe started to move forward, but Caspian grabbed his arm. “Rafe, you do not mean to help them? Surely...”

“I never like an unfair fight. It could easily have been us.” Rafe pulled free of Caspian’s hand and dug his heels into his horse’s flanks, charging out of their hiding spot and onto the road.

The scene ahead of him was chaos. Men were shouting and firing guns, lighting up the surrounding gloom with brief flashes. The rain had caused the coach’s wheels to sink deep into muddy ruts. Horses screamed and one of the three imposters fell from his saddle. Rafe halted his horse twenty yards away and lifted his pistol, aiming for one of the armed men from the coach, and fired with a thunderous crack.

The man went down, howling as he clutched his leg. Two others were focused on a second imposter who had come to the aid of the first.

“Get back!” Rafe took out his second pistol and fired at one of the guards. The imposter, who had crouched over his wounded comrade, whirled and lashed out with a slender blade, forcing one of the armed brutes back a step.

But he was not so easily deterred. The guard moved in and struck the thief across the face with a meaty fist, knocking the man out cold next to his companion. The guard now lunged forward, a wicked blade in his hand, intent on finishing the job.

Rafe removed a third pistol from his cloak and fired into the man’s back. The guard collapsed onto the muddy road. There was no time to ruminate on his sins. The thunder of hooves behind him told him Caspian and Will had joined the fray.

Their arrival gave Rafe a chance to see to the wounded thieves. Rafe first checked on the man who’d been shot. The one who’d been knocked unconscious was already starting to come around and groaned, touching his face. The imposters tensed as Rafe approached and slid off his horse, still wearing his mask.

“Ye’d best get him up and on his horse and be off or else ye’ll all be dead,” Rafe snapped in his Scottish brogue. “I’ll help ye.”

He grabbed the man who’d been shot and helped him mount his horse. Then he turned to the other man, who mounted his own horse. “Get out of here, now!” he snapped.

The man clutching his injured shoulder whistled sharply, the sound cutting across the road, and the third of the imposter thieves wheeled his horse around and headed straight for them. “Thank you...”

Rafe had the sudden urge to reassure the man he’d be all right, so long as he could get away from here, and prayed the man would.

“Cleanse that wound unless ye wish to die a lingering death. Go!” Rafe smacked his hand on the horse’s flank, sending the beast flying into the night. Then he spun and dove back into the fight. He flipped his hold on his last pistol to catch it by the handle and swung it at one of the men’s face. The man went down hard, and Rafe punched another man in the stomach, causing him to double over.

“Oxford! Grab the money box!” Rafe shouted to Will, who was closest to the open coach doors.

Will ducked inside the coach and retrieved a box about a foot and a half long. Caspian helped him carry it to the horses and secure it to the back of Will’s saddle.

The wounded guard spat at Rafe from where he knelt, clutching his injured leg. “You killed him!” He pointed a finger at the man lying face down in the mud. The man Rafe had shot in the back. “You’ll hang for this!”

“Someday. But not today,” Rafe said coldly. He felt little sympathy for any man who willingly worked for someone like Caddington. He returned to his horse and mounted up. He met Will and Caspian in the woods a safe distance away.

“Take the money to Lennox House. Hide it in the stables until we can sort all this out. Tell Rosalind anything you like about how I invited you to stay at the house.”

“What about you?” Caspian asked.

“I’m going after those fools. I need to warn them off. We got lucky. With Caddington setting traps like this, they’ll likely get killed next time. I won’t have that on my conscience.”

“Be careful,” Will said.

“I will.” Rafe then turned his horse westward.

It wasn’t long before he picked up the trail of the other three highwaymen. In their haste to flee and their need to see their wounded man home, they had ridden together in a straight line directly away from the coach. The rain would wash away their trail in a few hours, but Rafe had enough knowledge of the area to determine the route they were taking. Once he had them in sight, he kept his distance to avoid detection. Trailing them to a wooded area, he gave pause once he realized exactly where he was.

He was on land abutting Foxglove.

Hellfire. Diana had dangerous men living near her. What if those thieves came across her when she was riding alone? Rafe was all too aware that he and his companions were the exception to the rule when it came to highwaymen. She could be in danger if these men couldn’t be trusted.

The three riders left their horses in a small stable at the edge of the estate and seemed to disappear into the earth. Granted, the night was growing dark and the rain had thickened, but Rafe was convinced of what he saw. One of the men had pulled up the ground, and they had all vanished beneath. An underground hideout, perhaps? A clever idea, that.

He left his horse in the stable with the others, praying that nothing would happen to his mount while he investigated further.

He reached the spot where the men had disappeared and found a trapdoor. It was covered with mud and grass, but he was able to find the lip of the door with his fingers and lift it up. He peered into the hole, and with a careful test of his booted foot, he found the rungs of a ladder leading down into the dark.

He contemplated following the trio of men right away, but he decided it would be best to warn Diana first. If he came back in daylight, he would feel safer about trailing unknown men into an underground tunnel. Even though he had helped these men escape tonight, he still didn’t know or trust them, certainly not enough to approach them by himself in a dark passageway on a stormy night.

He set the trapdoor back into place and retrieved his horse from the small stable, then rode to Diana’s stables behind her manor house. They were dark and empty of any stable hands. He slipped his horse into an empty stall, knowing it was a risk if any of the stable hands checked the horses and found one that didn’t belong, but it was a risk he’d have to take.

He left the stable and headed for the trellis beneath Diana’s bedroom window. With care, he climbed up the ivy-covered wood latticework and eased the bay window open just as he’d done that first night he’d gone to see her as Tyburn. He silently dropped down into the room and glanced around. A rushlight had been newly lit, but there was no sign of Diana. Perhaps she hadn’t gone to bed and a thoughtful servant had lit the rushlight.

A commotion in the hall sent Rafe ducking behind the curtains that covered half the window. Blast! Had his arrival been witnessed after all? The bedchamber door opened and voices carried over to him.

“Sit her on the chair.” Rafe recognized the speaker as Diana’s butler, Mr. Peele. “What happened, Matthew?”

“We were ambushed,” a man who was presumably Matthew said in a shaky voice. “It was a trap. There were twice as many guards this time. It was as though they knew we were coming. We didn’t think... Lord, we didn’t think...”

Rafe’s heart stilled. Diana’s own servants had been the thieves. But why bring the wounded man to Diana’s room?

Then he remembered the butler had asked Matthew to sit her on the chair.

“Lift her arm into the light,” Peele instructed. “I need a better look at the wound.”

It couldn’t be.

“Ouch!” Diana’s voice jerked Rafe out of his stunned silence.

He flung the curtain back, revealing himself. But whatever effect his shocking reveal might have had upon the room’s occupants, it paled in comparison to the shock he felt right now.

Diana sat in a chair by the bed, wearing a black pair of trousers and a black shirt and waistcoat. Her hair was hidden beneath a blond wig that resembled his own hair. Her butler, wearing his dressing gown, and a young man who wore the same black clothing as Diana stared at Rafe, mouths agape.

Rafe saw the bloodied, torn sleeve on Diana’s left arm, exposing where she’d been shot. She’d been the one he’d helped onto the horse, the one he’d killed a man to save. The woman he loved more than his own life. And that realization struck him like a bullet. She stared at him with a stunned and pained expression that knocked the breath from his lungs.

“Do ye realize what ye’ve done?” he snarled at the woman whose very beating heart held the key to his own and charged toward her.

Diana blinked, rainwater still dripping into her eyes. Tyburn was here ? How was that even possible? Half an hour ago, he’d saved her life by throwing her onto the back of the very horse she’d stolen from him. Then he had resumed the fight against the armed men who had attacked when she and her footmen had stopped the coach. There was no way he could have gotten to her house so fast, no way he could have known she was one of the thieves who had been posing as him and his accomplices. So how was he here? The question thundered in her head almost as loud as her beating heart. That was swiftly followed by a wrench of pain in her heart. She’d thought she’d never see him again. They were but strangers in the night, and she’d fallen in love with Rafe Lennox, a good man, a perfect man, a man who gave her in the sunlight what Tyburn could only ever give her by moonlight.

Her insides fluttered with traitorous warmth at the sight of him, yet a deep sadness swiftly overtook her joy. Tonight must be the last time she would see him. There couldn’t be another night, not when she was in love with Rafe.

“Do ye realize what ye’ve done?” Tyburn roared as he charged across the room toward her.

Peele and Matthew threw themselves in front of her, fists raised.

“One more step, sir, and I’ll lay you flat,” Peele growled at Tyburn.

Diana tugged at Peele’s sleeve with her uninjured arm, but Peele ignored her, focused as he was on the intruder.

Tyburn stopped and his gaze went from Peele to Diana, a silent warning that she understood. She had better make her men move, or else he would.

“It’s all right, Peele, Matthew. Tyburn and I know each other.”

“Tyburn?” Matthew gasped. “Not the Tyburn?” His suspicious gaze turned to one of admiration. “You’re really him, aren’t you? The true highwayman.”

“I am.” Rafe brushed Peele and Matthew aside so he could bend over Diana. “What the bloody hell have ye gone and done, lass? I came to warn ye about dangerous thieves on yer lands and find ye’re one of them. Ye’re in over yer head more than ye realize.” He knelt on one knee and removed a long blade from his boot. Peele made a move toward him, but Rafe shot the man a look that stopped him cold.

“I willna hurt her.” Tyburn cut the stained shirt away and set the blade down so he could examine her wound. His knee brushed hers as he leaned in. The scent of rain still clung to him, reminding Diana of the night they’d first met. She suddenly didn’t care about her arm. She only cared that this would be the last time she’d ever see him, ever smell him, ever feel the magic of this man’s presence. His fingers explored her arm, and his gaze shifted from her wound to her face. She started to lean into him but caught herself.

“Thank Christ, lass. It only grazed ye.” He turned to Matthew. “Fetch hot water, brandy, and clean cloths we can cut into strips.”

Peele began to protest but then came to his senses and waved at Matthew. “Do what he says.”

Diana winced as Tyburn’s fingers carefully examined the skin around her wound. She took in the sight of his blue eyes as they studied her wound, and the way his lips looked so soft and kissable. It was a welcome distraction, and it even reminded her of how Rafe made her feel. It was a curse to long for two beautiful men who were so alike and yet so different.

“Ye canna send for a doctor. He’d ask too many questions. But I dinna think ye’ll need stitches, so long as ye keep the wound clean and well tended.” He spoke calmly, yet she saw the fear in the highwayman’s eyes. A fear for her, because he cared for her.

His gaze met hers as his lips thinned, and his anger returned. “What were ye thinking, lass? It wasna enough to rob me blind, ye had to go and rob the whole countryside as well? Ye could’ve been killed,” Tyburn hissed. “Did ye no ken what that would do to yer house, yer staff, to me ?” Her heart leapt traitorously at the thought that somehow she’d won a place in this mysterious man’s heart.

Diana lifted her chin, her pride stung. “We’ve been quite successful in our efforts, until tonight. This would have been our third robbery.”

“Oh, I ken. I read the papers. Imagine my surprise when I read about robberies that I didna even remember committing.”

“It seemed a safer way to go about things.” She removed her blond wig and sighed as she set it on the table beside her. “I don’t know how those men were ready for us, but they were.” Her arm ached with an almost numbing pain now, and her entire body was weary.

“Oh, ye dinna ken how they were waiting for ye? Well, perhaps I can shed some light on that. Put yerself in Caddington’s mind. He was used to a certain degree of loss before, but suddenly his coaches are being robbed twice as much. How would ye think he would respond?”

Diana blinked. She’d hoped to hide her identity by using Tyburn’s, but now she saw that as far as the public was concerned, Tyburn had simply doubled his efforts and become more of a menace.

“It was inevitable, I suppose,” said Tyburn. “Caddington kens his coaches are a target now, lass. He was ready for anything tonight.”

Diana felt like a fool for not realizing that Caddington would take precautions after so many losses, but her mind had been so full of distractions, delightful ones... involving Rafe Lennox. Then she looked to Tyburn and felt the heat of shame for being so glad at seeing him tonight, even when someone else held her heart.

In the last few days, she’d fallen hopelessly in love with Rafe. He’d opened himself to her, revealed every darkness inside him, and she hadn’t turned away, because he’d seen that same darkness inside her. They’d both offered themselves to each other without any conditions. That was love in its purest form. To know someone and have them know you, without secrets, and still want to stay.

That was why she could never be with Tyburn. He couldn’t know her the way Rafe did, and she could never truly know him. Yet his magnetic presence still stirred something inside her, and it felt like a betrayal to Rafe.

Diana was about to say something, though she wasn’t sure what, but the bedchamber door opened and Matthew returned. He gave the supplies to Peele and Tyburn, who worked together in silence to clean her wound.

The brandy poured over the open wound burned like the fires of hell, but Diana didn’t dare cry out. She clenched Tyburn’s arm, knowing she had to be hurting him. He had removed his gloves, and she was grateful for the warmth of his hand around hers as he gently took her fingers into his and let her squeeze there instead. Peele finished bandaging her arm a minute later.

“Here, drink this. ’Twill numb the pain.” Tyburn lifted the bottle to Diana’s lips. She took several long gulps, hissing at the burn at the back of her throat, but it worked quickly to make her feel less pain than she had minutes before.

“Is there anything else I can do?” Peele asked her. Diana saw the fatherly love for her in his eyes. Her own eyes filled with tears as she shook her head.

“You and Matthew should check on Luke. He was seeing to the horses. Then you all should go to bed.”

“Yes, Miss Fox.” Matthew gave Tyburn one more glance before leaving. Peele, however, stood his ground.

“You should not be left alone with this... gentleman,” her butler said. Tyburn chuckled at that.

“Tyburn and I have an understanding,” said Diana. “He will not do anything untoward, I can assure you.”

Peele stared at Tyburn. “Harm her and you will regret it. I don’t care who you are.”

The highwayman nodded in understanding. “If I harm her, I’ll put myself in my own grave.”

Only then did Peele reluctantly leave them alone. Once he was gone, Tyburn began to lecture her again.

“Have ye gone daft, Diana? Ye canna do this ever again.” He tossed his hat onto a chair, then muttered darkly as he paced the length of the room. “’Tis far too dangerous. Caddington desires to catch me, now more than ever.”

“If you plan to lecture me, you can leave,” Diana said wearily. “You might hunt coaches for sport for all I know, but for me, it is a question of survival.” She rose from the chair, but she wobbled as she stood. Between the brandy and the pain, she was still a little unsteady on her feet.

Tyburn caught her up in his arms and carried her to the bed. In an instant she was struck by the familiarity of being in his arms, the maleness of his scent. She wound her uninjured arm around his neck to hold on, just so she could touch him once more before she told him goodbye. Diana ducked her head beneath his chin, shutting her eyes to block out the tears before he saw them. He laid her down on the bed and removed her boots from her feet.

“Ye need out of these wet clothes,” he said.

“You always say that.” Diana tried for a smile, but it turned into a yawn. She was too tired to move and was perhaps a little drunk with all of the brandy she’d taken on an empty stomach.

With a grunt, Tyburn set about removing her clothing until she was naked as the day she’d been born. If she hadn’t been so damned tired and hurting, she might have cared, but at that moment, she didn’t. All she could think about was he was touching her again and it would be for the last time.

“Where do ye keep yer underpinnings?” he asked, looking around the room.

“Dresser... top drawer.” Diana closed her eyes, burying her face in her pillow.

“Ye can sleep in a minute, lass. Sit up for me now,” Tyburn commanded. Suddenly the soft, dry fabric of a clean chemise slid over her head. He tucked her arms through the sleeves and tugged it down her body.

“There now, ye can get beneath the covers.” He urged her to one side of the bed where he’d pulled back the coverlet, then lifted the blankets up to her chin as though she were a child.

An almost silent sob hiccupped from her lips.

His curse was instant, warm, and it drove another sob from her. “I’ll stay the night with ye, if ye want,” he whispered, easing down onto the bed beside her.

“ No! ”

The word was ripped from the very insides of her heart. When he heard it, he stilled completely, waiting for her to explain.

“You cannot stay.” The drowsiness threatened to cloud her mind. It urged her to lay her head down and sleep, but the flicker of emotion behind the mask made her determined to do the right thing.

“Why not?” Tyburn asked.

“I...” The brandy blurred her thoughts and stole her words, but the rightness of what she had to do stayed, even as it tore her heart. “I’ve fallen in love with someone. And I think I will marry him if he asks me.”

Silence, and then she felt the strong grip of Tyburn’s fingers around her hand.

“No! I told you, you cannot stay anymore. I couldn’t do that to him.”

The words cut her like shards of glass, but she didn’t dare take them back. She thought of Rafe, the way he’d whispered his dreams to her as they lay beneath a spreading sky, and she knew how vulnerable that beautiful man was, how he feared to say what he wanted from life, because somehow, life had taken so much from him, just as it had from her. She thought of the way he looked at her, as if she was the answer to every question he’d ever had in his heart, as though living one minute without her would destroy him.

“Who is he?” Tyburn rasped, and even as tired as she was, she heard the pain in his voice.

“He’s a gentleman... a good man. He is so wonderful, and yet he thinks he’s a scoundrel. He believes himself to be a wicked rake, but with me, he’s... just himself. There is only truth between us. Truth and desire. Somehow, I have fallen madly in love with him.”

She opened her eyes, seeing Tyburn’s masked profile as he stared at the rushlight by the bed. She almost took the words back that hurt this man, the man who’d first shown her pleasure and belonging, who’d saved her from a bullet, who’d killed for her. And she had repaid him with rejection. But her soul now belonged to Rafe. Being beside him in that storm, holding Isla safe between them... that had changed the very heart of her being.

Tyburn let out a soft breath. “Does he truly ken who ye are, lass? Does he make ye feel as I do?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “I didn’t think anyone but you could make me feel like this, but he does. He’s seen me, all of me, even at my worst.”

“So ye are enough for him,” Tyburn sighed. “But is he enough for ye?”

“He’s everything,” Diana confessed. “It all happened so fast, but I feel like my soul and his... we’ve come from the same place. We are the same, he and I.” It was something she’d never imagined she’d say about any man, that she could feel so wholly herself and yet a part of another like that, but she did. She and Rachel had often teased each other about mates of the soul when they’d been younger, finding that perfect gentleman. But she didn’t want or need a man who was perfect. Rafe was perfect in his imperfection. She wanted Rafe, wanted his misery, his heartache, his joy, his love, his passion. She wanted all of it, wanted all of him.

Tyburn turned to face her. “Will ye miss me, lass?” he asked.

She forced herself to sit up, resting her forehead against Tyburn’s shoulder as he tightened his hold on her hand and laced his fingers through hers.

“God forgive me, but I will. I will miss you, Tyburn.”

“There will never be another in my heart but ye, lass.” He lifted her face up and kissed her lips with all the heartache of a final goodbye.

Bliss and misery exploded in the wake of that long, slow melting of mouths in the rushlight. She tasted love in this stranger’s kiss, just as she had that first night they’d come together in that little hunting lodge. Tears coated her cheeks as they pulled apart, and she wiped at her eyes.

“Rest now. Ye need to heal.” He urged her back to the bed and tucked the blankets up around her again. She watched him through watery eyes as he opened the window. Outside, thunder rumbled, an echo of her soul quaking at this painful parting.

“Tyburn... Would you show me who you really are? Or at least tell me your true name?”

Rain pattered on the stones and ivy of the house, which was strangely soothing to her at this moment when her heart felt like it was breaking. Tyburn braced the window open and faced her, the rushlight’s glow barely illuminating his masked face.

“I am but a dream, lass. And dreams should never be named. It destroys the magic in them.”

And then, just as he had entered her life, her wicked highwayman vanished into the cold, rainy night.