Chapter 7

As her eyes fluttered open to the late afternoon sun streaming through her window, Leah sat up with a yawn. She generally wasn't in the habit of taking a nap, but with little else to do, the weariness had swept over her quite naturally.

She got to her feet and brushed out the wrinkles in her gown the best that she could. At this point, she was starting to despair that she might ever look truly presentable again. But then, it wasn't as if she had anyone that she needed to impress. If she did manage to make it to Birmingham to meet her brother, she would decide what to do then, but for the moment, she just had to make it through to the next day. While she didn't feel threatened by Harlan and his band of miscreants, neither was she allowing herself to let down her guard.

She headed for the desk to retrieve the letter she'd written to her brother, but hesitated when she saw that it was missing. With a frown, she checked around the floor to make sure it hadn't fallen, but when there was nothing, she set her hands on her hips. If it hadn't disappeared by accident, then the only explanation was that it was taken. On purpose.

Infuriated, she stalked over to the door and marched down the hallway, intent on finding Harlan and demanding an explanation. However, she stopped short when she spied a well-dressed, light-haired man sitting in the parlor with a book in his hands. He wore no mask, but instead, a pair of glasses were perched upon his face.

When he glanced up and spied her, he offered a casual smile and put a place card in his book before he set it aside. "Good day, Miss Lindquist."

She blinked, momentarily confused by his appearance. If there was anyone that she might have considered a dandy, it was this individual. "Who are you?"

He cleared his throat as he rose and offered a respectful bow. "Forgive me. My name is Lucas Appleton. I daresay you probably don't recognize me without my mask."

She blinked again. "How is it that you can discard your mask without the same care in safeguarding your identity?"

"I find it terribly cumbersome," he noted evenly, and she wasn't sure if he meant it in truth or jest. He waved a hand. "Won't you sit?"

She did, but not without glancing around first. "Where is Harlan?"

"He is preparing for a new exploit this evening."

"Is he?" She gritted her teeth. How convenient. "I was hoping to speak with him about a personal matter, but I suppose it shall have to wait."

Keeping his face a perfect mask of indifference, he asked, "Would you be referring to the letter you wrote to your brother?"

"Ah." She clasped her hands together in front of her. "I can see that he has confided in you. Pray tell, what did he say?"

"That he intended to see that it reached Mr. Lindquist in a timely fashion."

That surprised Leah. "He didn't threaten to throw it into the fire?"

"On the contrary," he returned. "He felt it was the right thing to do."

She laughed at that. "Coming from a thief, I suppose I ought to take that as a compliment and be grateful he has some honor left."

A slight frown grew between his brows. "Whatever you might think about Harlan, I can assure you that it is wrong."

"And how might I know anything about him since he keeps everything such a closely guarded secret?"

He tilted his head to the side. "Have you considered the possibility that he might not have a choice in the matter?"

She hesitated. Actually, that thought hadn't crossed her mind at all. She just assumed that Harlan was the leader of a bunch of mischief makers out to terrorize unsuspecting passengers. "Enlighten me, then."

He pushed his spectacles up his nose. "I would, but it is not my position to tell someone else's story. If Harlan wants to express the reasons behind his actions, then it shall be up to him to do so."

"What time is he due to return?" she demanded. "I should like to hear the truth from him, if he is capable of it."

"It is difficult to say. They have all gone out for the evening."

They. "I see," she returned tightly. "I suppose they mean to rob another coach." She waited for her companion to contradict her. When he didn't, she had a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. After today, when Harlan had showed her the camera obscura, and then been so candid with her about his attraction to her, she thought that they might have been gaining some common ground. But if he was still intent on carrying out these despicable exploits, then she had been fooling herself into believing he had any good left in his heart.

And here was this man, who appeared perfectly innocent, and yet, he was part of the same band of revelers. "Why didn't you join them?" She asked, trying to keep the bitterness out of her voice.

"I offered to remain behind."

Her lips twisted. "You mean to imply you had to ensure I didn't escape."

This time, he was the one who chuckled. "I should not presume to jump to any such conclusions. However, I am also not the sort who enjoys holding up coaches. I am a mathematical man, not one fit for that sort of physical work."

That description definitely didn't fit his occupation. "Then how is it you were recruited to join a group of highwaymen?"

"Because of my knowledge of statistics."

"And this is the only line of work you could find?" she asked in disbelief.

His focus was steady. "My wife knows that what I do is important."

She leaned forward. "You're married?"

"Yes. And we have a two-year old daughter."

Leah sat back in her chair, stunned. "Surely the other men aren't in similar circumstances?"

"We all have families, except for Harlan."

Somehow that didn't come as a surprise. And yet, any mention of Harlan and it caused the flutters in her stomach to start beating wildly.. "I suppose I should look around to find something for supper. Unless you've already eaten?"

"I have, and I was able to procure a plate for you from my wife as well, should you accept the offering."

Leah was touched by the kindness, even if she was still reeling from the fact these men took on such dangerous tasks, knowing the impact it would make on their families. "That was very kind of both of you," she murmured.

As they made their way into the kitchen, she offered him an olive branch, "I daresay it is nice to finally converse with someone who isn't wearing a mask. I admit that I used to find them quite dashing in novels, but it has not taken me long to tire of them."

He smiled. "I have the feeling you will not have to worry about them for much longer, Miss Lindquist. Harlan is quite taken with you, and unless you are determined to make your way to your brother's house, I believe he is content to let you remain here."

I can't let you go. Not yet. Not untilI can understand this overwhelming appeal for you." Harlan's words at the windmill replayed in her mind.

She wished she could tell Lucas that she was eager to be on her way, but she had never been able to lie to such an extent. If she was being honest with herself, she was curious where this attraction with Harlan might lead—but only if he could offer her something palatable in return.

She decided it was best to remain silent as he set a plate of food before her. It looked wonderfully delicious, and for the moment, she turned her focus to the meal.

By the timedusk had given way to nightfall, Harlan was on horseback beside the rest of his men. They had not taken out the unmarked carriage this evening since Lucas had remained at the cottage. That also left Matthew behind since he was in charge of driving the coach.

Waiting beside Hugh and Benjamin on horseback was a slightly odd experience. Harlan generally didn't like to go out without a full crew, but Hugh had mentioned that it was of the upmost urgency that they were on the roads this night. He'd overheard a conversation at the Old Prince of Orange that there was going to be a ‘person of interest' arriving from France. It sounded as though it could be the assassin they had been waiting for, so it was imperative that they strike now, rather than wait until Leah wasn't around.

Harlan wished that he might be able to trust her so that he wouldn't have to worry about her rushing out and foiling any chance they might have to capture any treasonous criminals. He wasn't certain he completely approved of Lucas's idea to forgo the mask, but he supposed it was a level of trust he was willing to engage in, even if Harlan wasn't yet prepared to do the same.

"They're coming!"

Harlan snapped to attention at the sound of the whispered warning from Hugh. Keeping to the shadows of the trees around them, they waited for the opportune moment to make their presence known. If they were fortunate, they would apprehend the guilty party before they had a chance to retaliate.

If not…

Harlan didn't like to think in those sorts of terms, because it could cause him to lose his focus. In apprehensive moments like these, he had to remind himself that he was an agent for the Crown on an important mission to save the reigning monarch. Nothing else should matter. Or rather, it didn't used to.

"Now!" He shouted the order once the carriage was abreast of them. Riding out in a swift, fluid motion, Hugh shot his pistol into the air as a warning, while Benjamin and Harlan trained their weapons on the driver and his companion, ensuring that they didn't do anything rash while Hugh was reloading.

"Stand and deliver!" Harlan yelled out loud enough that the occupants inside the public coach might be able to hear. Once he heard the cock of the pistol beside him, the indication that Hugh was prepared for defense, Harlan rode around to the side of the carriage. He trained his weapon on the door of the coach and instructed in a deep, firm tone. "Everyone out. Slowly, if you please."

The door creaked open and a thin man in glasses was the first to step to the ground. He was shaking, his palms lifted into the air, but the hatred in his gaze spoke what he dared not utter aloud. Harlan had to commend his courage, if it was just to a certain degree.

A sniffling, buxom woman was next. She held a handkerchief to her nose and moved to stand next to the first man. Likely her husband, if Harlan had to hazard a guess.

When the coach remained still, he asked the couple, "Is there anyone else inside?"

The woman nodded miserably and acted as though she might faint at any moment. It made the man's scowl even more pronounced. No doubt he wasn't looking forward to listening to his wife's dramatics for the rest of their journey. It was the part of the job that Harlan regretted, but again, he told himself that he was there for an important reason.

"Step down!" Harlan announced to the coach, but there was no further movement inside.

Benjamin moved his mount closer and whispered so only Harlan could hear, "Do you want me to take a look?"

"No. I'll go." Harlan handed his reins over as he dismounted. Keeping his pistol firmly in his grasp, he moved cautiously toward the interior of the coach. He had nearly made it to the door when there was a flash of light inside, followed by the popping retort of a pistol.

Harlan darted out of the line of fire, but he wasn't quick enough. A blaze of heat scoured the side of his head as he fell to the ground.

Disoriented, Harlan blinked, trying to make sense of the sudden chaos that ensued around him. Benjamin shouted his name while the buxom woman let out a piercing shriek. More gunshots were exchanged, but none appeared directed at him to finish the job. The sound of frightened horses bolting and carriage wheels cracking in motion were the last Harlan heard as he succumbed to his wounds and fell into darkness.

Leah decidedthat Lucas was just as delightful in conversation as Hugh had been, although in a different manner. He wasn't charming or flirtatious, but polite and direct. She could easily believe anything he might have to say, but that was his skill. No doubt, it was part of the strategy that made him a valuable asset to the rest of the highwaymen.

Once dinner was finished, they removed to the parlor where they sipped on their tea and chatted about neutral topics like the weather and the current politics happening in London.

"Do you like the new queen?" she asked.

"She is my queen whether I approve or not," he returned factually. "She is young, but she has long been under the impression that the Crown would become hers after the death of her elder uncles. She will be further adapted into the role as time progresses."

Leah couldn't deny the logic, even if it wasn't exactly what she had asked.

He held up the book he'd been perusing earlier. "Do you like to read?"

She nodded. "I do, but there is a sad lack of anything of interest here."

He bent down to a satchel and removed another book which he handed to her. "If you enjoy a bit of theatrics, you should try Mary Shelley. She recently published a new novel."

She accepted the offering. The title read, Falkner. "I actually read Lodore and liked it very much."

"Then you should appreciate this one as well." He opened his book. "Shall we pass the time?"

Leah decided that was a capital idea. However, as darkness slowly fell and the minutes ticked by with frustrating precision, she started to grow anxious. Something was making her restless, although she couldn't pinpoint exactly what was causing it. She knew it wasn't the man sitting calmly in the same room, as the silence between them had become quite comfortable. It was more like a feeling, another sense that warned her that danger was impending.

She wished Harlan hadn't chosen to go out this evening. Until then, she might have tried to imagine that Harlan wasn't the scandalous thief that he appeared. Hugh and Lucas had both told her that not everything was as it appeared, and yet, how could she know any different when Harlan kept that firm wedge between them?

The thundering sounds of horses approaching had Leah lowering her book in alarm. She glanced at Lucas, who set aside his book as well. But it was the slight frown between his brows that unnerved her the most. It was proof that this was not a common occurrence.

Lucas walked over to the door just as it opened. Leah heard Benjamin's gruff voice say, "He's been injured."

Her heart jumped into her throat because she didn't have to ask to know that the man he was referring to was Harlan. She immediately jumped to her feet and rushed to where Benjamin and Hugh were bringing in the limp form of their leader. She gasped, not so much because of the blood that had matted against the side of Harlan's head, although it was disconcerting. Thankfully, he still had a bit of color to his face.

His bare face.

She didn't realize how much of his virile profile had been hidden by that mask, but as they carried him into the bedchamber and laid him down on the bed, she saw that it had concealed quite a lot. He truly was quite handsome. Although his dark hair was in disarray and there was a nasty gash on the left side of his head, it was the strong structure of his face, combined with the full lips that she abruptly remembered kissing, that made the blood run hot in her veins. She felt guilty for daring to lust after him when he was injured, but it was the first time she could look upon him fully and appreciate the man behind the facade.

She forced herself to put aside her musings as she walked over and grasped Hugh's arm. She was grateful that they had also dispensed with their disguises as well. It made her feel more… connected to them all somehow, like she had finally earned their trust. But more than that, found her purpose for being there. She still wasn't certain of their motives, and she certainly didn't owe them any loyalty after she'd been taken hostage. And yet, she couldn't stand aside.

"What can I do?"

Hugh looked at her as if he was trying to decide if she was being sincere or not, but he must have made a quick choice, because he said, "Hot water and linens. And some brandy might work when I stitch up this wound. He might be out of it now, but he will be lucid enough when the pain returns."

Leah nodded and rushed into the kitchen to find what he needed. He hadn't asked for a needle or thread, but perhaps he already knew where that was.

Thankfully, it didn't take long for her to gather the items requested. The alcohol took the longest to find, because it was kept in a cabinet that turned out to be locked. Not knowing where the key was, she had to resort to opening it without one. Of course, that was the easiest hurdle for her to overcome.

With the bottle in one hand and a steaming bowl of water in the other, white linens draped over her arm, she entered the bedroom just as Harlan's hazel eyes flew open with a curse. "What the devil—?"

At first, she thought he was complaining about his wound, but when it became apparent that he was touching his face to find that his mask had disappeared, it was clear why he was really upset.

"I had to remove it unless you don't want this stitched properly," Hugh told him firmly.

Harlan's eyes narrowed on him. "But what if she—"

"I fear it's too late for that," she announced primly. "I'm already here." Immediately, Harlan's tirade ceased as she handed the requested items to Benjamin, who set them on the nearby side table.

"Get out," came the menacing growl from the bed.

She allowed her gaze to light on him for a moment before she spoke. "No." Dismissing him, she turned to Hugh and said, "What now?"

"I'm trying to thread this blasted needle," he grumbled.

She didn't waste any time but took the item from him. "Allow me. I am quite adept at needlepoint." She quickly made short work of the needle and tied a knot in the thread to keep it in place. She held it out to him expectantly.

Hugh glanced at the patient, and then asked slowly, "Do you have a weak stomach, Miss Lindquist?"

Harlan erupted. "She isn't going to bloody touch—!"

"I don't, actually." She glared at their patient once more. "But you will have to keep him still. I might have a steady hand, but there are limits to my expertise."

With a nod, Hugh thrust the bottle at Harlan and said, "This is happening whether you like it or not, so I suggest you lie there like a good boy and let Miss Lindquist do her job properly." He lifted a brow. "Or do you want another fine scar like the last one I gave you?"

Harlan's focus switched back and forth between them, and then he snatched the brandy from Hugh. Downing about half of the bottle in several large gulps, his eyes were starting to glaze over by the time he barked at her, "Do it."