Chapter 23

At least the hulking brute had allowed her the forward-facing seat. Kat despised riding backward in a coach or any sort of equipage. It upset her belly and made her feel as she did when she was in a crowded social event with too much noise and heat. Despite not riding backward, she still felt her agitation rising with each mile.

How far from London had they come? It had been light when they’d left, but now it was full dark. Her stomach groaned.

“We’ll be stopping for food shortly,” he said. His speech was surprisingly polished. Kat supposed she expected him to be an uneducated barbarian.

“I would also like to relieve myself.” She didn’t really need to, but if she could get away from him, perhaps she could, well, get away from him permanently.

He grunted in response. Not entirely polished.

His nonverbal reaction reminded her of Lucien’s growls. What a mess she’d walked into! All because she wanted to help him. She still did. And she didn’t regret doing what she’d done. For too long, she’d been focused on herself. Lucien had been upset for weeks. Instead of pressing him to confide in her, she’d yammered on and on about her research. She should have asked him about his problems, his worries. She should have been a better friend.

That made her think back to all the times she’d ignored her sisters and their woes—even if they did seem silly to Kat. Was a stained dress really a reason to cry for two days? It was to Abigail, and Kat should have given her comfort.

She silently admonished herself again. If she’d learned anything in recent days, it was that she needed to think of others beyond herself. Not that she didn’t, but she needed to do it more, and not after the fact of something important.

If she managed to get back to London, and she absolutely planned to, she’d make sure Lucien knew how much he meant to her, how important his concerns were to her, how much she loved him.

Loved him?

Kat sat up straight and blinked. She loved him? How could she know?

Because she just did. He made her want to do better, be better. He always made her feel important and that he cared for her. She’d found his concern over her reputation annoying, but in hindsight, it was incredibly endearing. Most gentlemen would have run far away from her—or taken complete advantage. He’d done neither.

Settling back against the squab, she fidgeted with the cloak Lady Pickering had wrapped around her before she’d left. What did it matter that she loved him? It wasn’t as if they would marry and live a lifetime of happiness with a brood of children.

He had the Phoenix Club, and by God, she’d make sure he kept it. And she had…her interests. Along with her desire to remain unwed so she could be precisely who she wanted to be.

The coach came to a stop, and she pulled aside the curtain on the window. They’d pulled into the yard of an inn.

“Time for supper,” Hudson said, opening the door and climbing down. “You’ll stay with me at all times, or you won’t get any food. Understand?”

“What about using the privy?”

“There’s one behind the inn. I’ll stand outside while you use it.”

So much for her plan to escape. There had to be another way, and she would find it.

They went into the inn, and she stood silently while Hudson asked for two plates of whatever they were serving. The innkeeper looked like a kindly sort, with gold wired spectacles and a cheerful smile.

“I’ve a place near the fire. Spring is nearly upon us, but it’s a cold night to be sure! Will you need a room?”

“No. Our destination isn’t much farther.”

Kat knew that wasn’t true. They were on their way to Winchester—or near it anyway—which was a two-day ride. They couldn’t run the horses that far without resting or changing them. So there had to be another stop along the way.

The innkeeper nodded in response, still smiling. “Take a seat, then, and I’ll have your dinner served momentarily. Would you care for ale or wine?”

“Ale,” Hudson said.

“Wine, please.” Kat didn’t really care, but just wanted to be contrary. She gave the innkeeper a worried look as if she could silently convey that she was here against her will. Perhaps she could write him a note. If only she had paper…

But she did! She had her small notebook and pencil, which she’d been carrying nearly everywhere since that day she’d gone to Jess’s and maneuvered Lucien into kissing her in Dougal’s study.

That had been so lovely… Remorse tainted the memory. She shouldn’t have lured him like that.

She followed Hudson to the table near the hearth and was surprised when he held her chair. “You seem well-mannered for a brigand.”

“I am not a brigand. And keep your voice down.” He glanced about, but there were only three other people in the common room. Granted, they were sitting rather nearby.

“I’m afraid I’ve a penchant for speaking in a loud tone.” She unclasped the cloak beneath her throat and folded it over the back of the chair to have her arms free to eat. “Some people find it annoying.”

“I noticed that in the coach.”

“Did you? How clever of you since we barely spoke.” She lowered her voice, but not too much. She had no problem with anyone overhearing what she said. In fact, it would be bloody helpful. “If you aren’t a brigand, what are you?”

“Please be quiet.” He tossed her a dark glower.

“Well, at least you said please.” Kat watched the other three patrons rise from their table. She looked longingly at them, but they didn’t even glance in her direction. Dammit!

The innkeeper brought their food and drink. Kat wanted to slip a note into his hand or perhaps his pocket, but how was she to write it if the brute was always watching her?

He reached across the table and picked up the knife that had been delivered with her stew and bread. “You won’t be needing this.”

“How am I to spread the butter on my bread?” she asked.

“You don’t need butter. Dip it in your stew.” He tore a piece of bread from his small loaf and dipped it into the thick meat broth.

“I’m allowed a spoon? What if I use it to carve out your heart?” She smacked her forehead. “Not possible since you don’t have one.”

He didn’t react at all, just picked up his ale and took a long drink. Too late, Kat realized she could have reached over and tipped it so that it poured down his chin and front. Then she could grab the tankard and bludgeon him over the head with it.

Goodness, she was thinking rather violent thoughts. But how else was she to get away?

Write the note.

If she could, what would happen next? The innkeeper would take on this huge brigand? Kat didn’t care what Hudson said. He was absolutely a brigand.

Kat put her hand into her pocket and touched the notebook, as if it would give her comfort. Then her fingers closed around the pencil. Wait. This was a weapon! She’d sharpened it earlier that day. If she could plunge it into his neck… God, that would be gruesome. Ah well, needs must.

A rush of anxiety swept over her. She felt shaky and uncertain. But she had to take advantage of this moment. If she waited until they were in the coach, it would be much more difficult with the darkness and the motion. Plus, what would she do trapped in there with a bleeding brigand?

Just the thought of that made her shiver.

Kat took a drink of wine to fortify her courage. Hudson was bent over his food, his attention completely on eating. The neck was a difficult target because of his cravat and shirt collar. But bent over like that, she could perhaps move behind him and stab him in the nape. She’d have to move quickly…

What if she killed him? Could she live with that?

The sweat dappling her body turned cold.

Why couldn’t she just stab him in the hand and flee to the kitchen? Surely the innkeeper wasn’t alone here. They could outnumber the brigand. It was the only chance she had.

Heart racing, she watched him eat. When he picked up his tankard again, she made her move. Swiping her hand across the table, she sank the pencil into the back of his hand.

He yowled with pain, dropping the tankard into his stew so that ale and food splashed on him and the table. Kat jumped up and raced toward where the innkeeper had gone after delivering their food.

But she didn’t make it. A hand gripped the back of her gown and pulled. She feared she’d soon be exposed as well as recaptured.

“Let go of her!”

A familiar voice thundered through the common room.

Hudson did indeed let Kat go, which sent her sprawling forward. She got her hands out in front of her and mitigated the damage as she struck the floor. Behind her, she heard a tussle.

Scrambling to roll over and get to her feet, Kat saw Lucien and Ruark wrestling the brigand. “Find something to bind him!” Lucien yelled.

Kat stared at them for a moment before springing into action. She didn’t have to go in search of the innkeeper, for he had entered the common room, his expression stricken. A woman and a young man stood behind him.

“I was kidnapped by that brigand,” she said in a rush, her voice high and sounding not at all like herself. “They need to bind him so he won’t escape. Do you have rope or…something?”

“I’ll fetch some,” the young man said before turning and hastening away.

The woman came forward and put her arm around Kat. “I’m so sorry, dear.”

The innkeeper shook his head, his face pale. “I had no idea. I should have helped you.”

“You’re helping now,” Kat managed. She was shaking, and while she appreciated the woman’s concern, she didn’t want to be touched. Stepping away from the innkeeper’s wife, she gave her a feeble smile. “May I have a blanket?”

“Yes, of course.” The woman hurried the same way the young man had gone.

Lucien and Ruark had successfully subdued Hudson. They hauled him back into his chair, which they’d pulled away from the table. And Lucien held a pistol toward the brigand. It was odd seeing him in that situation. He was the charming membership club owner and Society darling, not a violent man who would kill. Lady Pickering’s words came back to her. Had Lucien actually killed someone?

Ruark came to Kat and tried to hug her. She stiffened, and he immediately stepped back. “You must be terribly overwhelmed,” he said softly. “But are you all right?”

She nodded. “Yes, to both of those things,” she whispered, her mind clogging with everything that had happened. She could hardly believe what Lady Pickering had done.

The young man came back with some rope. Ruark went to bind Hudson’s hands and feet while Lucien kept the pistol trained on him. Once Hudson was secure, Lucien relaxed. He glanced toward Kat. “You’re safe now.”

“Did you kill someone?” she asked, fixated on what Lady Pickering had told her.

Lucien blinked. “Tonight? No. Ever? Yes. I was a soldier.”

“But that’s all? Lady Pickering said you killed someone.”

“She was trying to make it look as if I did, but no, I did not.”

Kat exhaled, feeling marginally better. “Good. I didn’t think you had, but watching you wield that pistol…I had to ask.”

“I understand.” Lucien moved toward her. “I’m so sorry you got involved with this.”

The woman returned with a blanket and gave it to Kat. She immediately wrapped it around her shoulders and shuddered as she squeezed herself smaller to generate heat and to calm herself. When she felt overwhelmed like this, both emotionally and physically, it was as if her entire body was silently screaming. “I’ll fetch some tea,” the woman offered before disappearing once more.

Lucien came to stand in front of Kat. He gently touched her face, his dark eyes weighty with concern. “I was so worried.”

“What are you doing?” she whispered, incredulous at his behavior. “My brother is right there.”

“I know you think you’re being quiet,” Ruark said, “but I can hear you. I know all about you and Lucien.”

Kat stared at Lucien. “You told him we had sex?”

Lucien’s eyes closed, and his nose scrunched up. Ruark stalked toward them. He grabbed Lucien’s shoulder, spun him around, and planted him a facer.

Gasping, Kat moved to catch Lucien—not that she could have stopped him from falling. Thankfully, he just stumbled backward a few steps.

She let go of Lucien and turned to glare at her brother. “What was that for?”

“You’re a pompous, hypocritical son of a bitch.” Ruark sneered at Lucien. “I suppose you left that part out when you were confessing your love for her to me.”

Lucien loved her?

Rubbing his cheek, Lucien narrowed his eyes at Ruark. “Well, thank you, for that’s precisely how I was hoping she would find out that I am in love with her. Remind me to come to you for all my matchmaking needs.”

Ruark glared at Lucien. “That’s rich too! You’ve meddled with practically everyone!”

“Not with you, because you and Cass kept it secret,” Lucien said tersely.

“As did you and Kat.” Ruark looked to her. “What were you thinking?”

“That Lucien was an excellent person with whom to conduct research on mating rituals. I’m happy to report I was quite right.”

“I deserved that punch,” Lucien said.

Ruark crossed his arms over his chest. “You sure as hell did. When is the wedding?”

Wedding? Kat froze. Why would they get married? Neither of them wanted to wed. She shivered again and drew the blanket tighter around her shoulders. But it didn’t help. The silent screaming was still there. As was a growing urge to flee into solitude.

“As soon as possible.” Lucien returned to Kat. He took her hand and brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back. “I do love you. And I would like to marry you.” He sank to one knee. “Will you do me the great honor of becoming my wife?”

This wasn’t the plan. She wasn’t ever going to get married. Or fall in love. Or get kidnapped. Or stab a brigand with a pencil. She glanced toward Hudson and saw the blood caked all over his hand.

She couldn’t do this right now. It was all too much. She couldn’t…think. Or feel. She felt the storm coming. She was going to lose her barely held control if she didn’t get away. She shook her head. “I…can’t. Did you know I stabbed him in the hand with my pencil?” Where had her pencil gone?

“Did you?” Ruark went to the table and held up the writing instrument. “This? Yes, it’s rather bloody. Well done, Kat.”

“I’m not surprised,” Lucien said, and she could hear the pride in his voice. “You are quite capable.”

“Until I’m not,” she snapped. She just wanted to be alone. She wanted to squeeze her fear and anxiety away. If she could. “Can I go back to London? Alone?”

Ruark frowned. “You shouldn’t be alone.”

Lucien stood and let go of her hand. “But she needs to be. This has been a harrowing experience. She needs time to manage it all, and she does that best on her own.” He looked into her eyes. “I’ll have the coachman drive you back in Lady Pickering’s coach. He didn’t realize you’d been kidnapped. He thought he was driving you to Hampshire for a respite. You’ll be safe with him. You can leave now. Is that acceptable?”

She nodded, so grateful that he understood. But also ashamed that she couldn’t contemplate marrying him. Not now anyway. “Yes. Thank you.”

Ruark moved toward her. “I’m sorry this happened, Kat. Everything will be all right.”

“I know.” But it didn’t feel that way right now. She desperately wanted to get out of there before she completely lost control. “Just take me to the coach, please.”

Lucien inclined his head toward Ruark. “Go ahead. I’ll need to secure another coach to transport Hudson.”

Kat walked to the door, and Ruark hurried to open it for her. She wanted to say something to assure them that she’d be fine, but she didn’t have the words or strength. She was completely spent.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Lucien called after her.

She wasn’t sure she’d feel better by then. She couldn’t guess when she’d feel better at all.