Wildfire Kiss (Sir Edward 1)

“Are they not?” Charles gave him a curious glance. “Why not? Your inclination to espionage and intrigue has always made you jump at the chance to solve—”

“This was not espionage,” snapped the duke.

“Why are you so irritated?” Sir Charles asked bluntly.

“Babs—I have left her in the lurch. She is in some sort of trouble … and I should have been there to see her though it.”

“Tell me, Nick, what do you mean by her?” Sir Charles asked gravely.

“What do I mean by her? I mean to lay my heart at her feet and hope fervently that she doesn’t stomp on it.” The duke laughed without mirth.

“Then you mean to propose …?” Sir Charles was astounded.

“I mean to find out what this secret engagement is to Ned … Don’t really like the fellow, but I can’t imagine how he can have induced her to accept his suit unless she was willing, and I have to wonder if I am mistaken in her.”

“Fool, she is without guile—though she is very naughty and unconventional. She doesn’t like Ned … and I have to think she is somehow being forced into this.”

“Well then, we have but a few miles left to us. Let’s make haste so that I can get to the bottom of this mess.”

Twenty-two

LADY BABS HURRIED down the avenue to the designated corner where she was supposed to meet Sir Edward. She had a bad feeling about this. Why this sudden change of heart?

A large, old-fashioned, and cumbersome coach came to a slow and then a full stop quite near where she was standing. She pulled her light blue velvet cloak tightly around her and adjusted her bonnet as she considered the vehicle.

A warning light was blinking in her head. A skittish sensation was tickling her spine. Something was not right. However, Sir Edward opened the door and waved for her to join him.

“What happened to your coach …?” she called as she approached.

“Something wrong with the spring … and it looks like rain, didn’t want to take out my open curricle.”

Babs hesitated. A sixth sense curled around her stomach and yanked at her brain. Don’t go with him, it told her. Run, Babs, run! a voice in her head demanded. Run, run now … run!

“I think, Sir Edward … you should meet me back at W

averly where we can talk … I don’t think I feel well enough for a ride today,” she said, starting to back away.

“No, I think we need privacy for this …” he said, getting out of the coach. He took a minute to pull the hood of his dark cloak well over his head and then reached out with a cloth and covered her face. He held her as she struggled and then went limp into his arms, and he smiled as he carried her and deposited her in his coach.

In all the excitement, he didn’t see Otto just climbing up and over the dune some distance away. He didn’t see Otto go stock still for only a moment. He didn’t hear Otto call out above the ocean waves and wind, “Stop, fiend! Stop …”

He ordered his coachman forward, and forward they went with Otto chasing on foot.

Otto continued to shout and chase until he could run no more. He bent over his knees in order to catch his breath.

Inside the coach, Babs had fallen into a black canyon. She knew as she fell deeper and deeper that she was in serious trouble, and all she could see was a pair of bright blue eyes. “Nick …” she said out loud to the chagrin of her captor.

And then blackness enveloped her.

***

Miss Bretton had not reacted quite as Sir Edward had expected. He had thought she would go to the stables, take out the Waverly carriage, and use their driver, who would take much longer than a lady on horseback.

And that was what she was, a lady on horseback, taking shortcuts through the fields on her way to Lewes. She was used to rugged terrain and had often learned how to use the lay of the land to her advantage. Having lived in the States, she was accustomed to land far more rugged than the sedate and established roads of England.

It was therefore only a quick and easy ride to the Lewes. She hopped down from her sidesaddle, brushing the dust off her spencer and sticking her crop into her tall riding boot while she looked around.

The inn seemed respectable enough. It was an old, Tudor-styled building with an oversized barn that looked even larger than the main building.