Chasing Eliza (Cavendish Mysteries 3)
Page 9
It was impossible to tell how long they rode through the night but eventually Eliza was aware that the noise of the busy town had quietened down until all she could hear was the pounding of the horse’s hooves and the soft snorts of his breathing as they charged through the night.
Despite her earlier attack, Eliza was grateful for Edward’s steady presence beside her and took advantage of their position to seek the comfort of his embrace. With her arms wrapped tightly around him, and her head buried in the hollow between his neck and shoulder she was very grateful he had chosen to follow her. She realised then just how foolhardy her escape had been, and how dire her situation could have become had he not chosen to follow and rescue her.
“You can come up now.” Edward whispered softly directly into her ear. He should be blazingly angry with her for attacking him but still struggled with concern for her safety as the sharp memory of the baying crowd rose to the forefront of his mind. If it wasn’t for Guinness’ sheer size making it impossible for anyone to reach him easily, or stop him, then he knew they probably wouldn’t have got out alive.
Leaning forward to give his mount a gentle pat of gratitude, Edward slowed him to a steady walk and taking advantage of leaning forward to ease Eliza out of his neck. Not that he minded her seeking the security of his arms, but the press of her lush curves against him was just too distracting and was having an adverse affect on his libido. He needed all of his concentration to make sure their pursuers didn’t catch up with them.
He cast a quick assessing look over his shoulder and mentally cursed at the sight of riders following them at a steady pace. He hated to push the horse through the night, over unfamiliar and uneven terrain but the dogged persistence of the men giving chase made it increasingly likely.
Glancing down at the woman in his arms, he wondered just how much trouble she was in.
“If you are Jemima, you need to tell me now.” Everything within him paused in anticipation of her answer. He knew that his brother-in-law’s feelings for the mysterious Jemima went much further than friend helping acquaintance. Knowing she was Jemima would go some way to helping him keep his hands off the tempting bundle of femininity who now sat so comfortably in his arms.
“I promise I am telling the truth. I’m Eliza.” Eliza replied firmly, open honesty in her gaze as she stared openly back at him confirmed that she was indeed who she claimed to be. He wasn’t sure he was relieved or not.
Silence settled around them for several long moments as Guinness picked his way through the moonlight. Edward was contemplating their location and was busy calculating how long it would take to the safety of Havistock when he felt the shiver Eliza couldn’t contain.
“Cold?”
Eliza nodded hesitantly. Although she was pressed up against Edward’s warmth, the chill from the cold night air had chased the meagre warmth away until she was wracked with shivers. “I’ll be fine.”
“You did leave the inn in rather a hurry.” He pointed out ruefully, touching the tender spot on the back of his head, a painful reminder of the evening’s activities.
Eliza winced and looked abashed. “I really am sorry.”
“Mmmnn.” He suspected she knew exactly what she was doing and had planned the entire thing. Although he was annoyed he now had a growing lump on his temple, he was glad she had not succumbed to Bernard’s demands and agreed to whore herself, even for him.
A quick, reassuring glance over his shoulder had him drawing Guinness to a halt. Briefly he untied his greatcoat from the back of the saddle and shook it out before draping the voluminous warmth around her shoulders.
Eliza was immediately swathed in thick, woollen warmth that made her sigh with pleasure. She eyed the cotton shirt Edward was wearing and knew he must be cold too. He was in the process of tying the strings when she placed her hand over his much colder ones before removing the cloak and rearranging it as best she could around both of them. Tugging the loose folds over her legs, the cloak cocooned them both in enveloping warmth.
“Thank you.” Edward murmured, inexplicably touched by her concern for him. It had been a long time before anyone had considered his wellbeing in such a way. The instinctive way she had sought to assure his comfort at the risk of her own said a lot about her, drew him to her in a way that disturbed him a little. She was becoming more of an enigma that teased his curiosity.
“There’s someone coming.” She whispered, clutching at the folds of his cloak in alarm.
Edward turned to glance over his shoulder, well aware of his chest pushing against the soft roundness of her as he did so. “Damn.” He muttered, spying the three riders heading towards them far quicker than they had been moments ago. “Hold on.”
Eliza immediately slid her arms around his waist and clung to his reassuring strength as he nudged the horse into a gallop.
The cold night whipped around them as they chased across the uneven fields. Once or twice Eliza gasped as Guinness stumbled, clearly struggling to maintain his momentum over the roughly ploughed fields.
“We can’t keep running over these fields, it’s only a matter of -.” The breath left his body as the horse fell to the ground beneath them with a jolt, throwing both Eliza and himself on the floor with a heavy thud.
“Eliza?” Edward shouted, dodging Guinness’ thrashing hooves as he struggled to regain his feet. Jumping to his feet, Edward clutched the startled horse’s reins and squatted down in front of Eliza.
“Edward!” Her ear-piercing squeal was met with the sound of thundering hooves as their pursuers drew to a halt.
Cursing fluidly, Edward roughly drew Eliza to her feet and shoved Guinness’ reins at her. “Hold those tightly and don’t let go.” His voice was clipped as he pushed the long lengths of leather into her cold fingers, and turned to stand directly in front of her wedging her firmly between Guinness’ heavy bulk and his own broad shoulders.
“Give ‘er to us.” A large brute of a man, with more than ample girth and scraggly beard nodded towards Eliza. The brogue in his voice was pure Cornish.
“What do you want with her?” Edward stared at each man in turn while drawing his pistol from its sheath and cocking it in readiness, although if he was honest he wasn’t sure he had enough shot to drop all of them should he need to. His other hand dropped to the reassuring solidity of the scabbard lodged into the belt of his breeches.
“She ain’t nothin’ to us, or to you so ‘and ‘er over.” The man was clearly t
he ringleader, or the only one able to talk Edward surmised, scanning the horizon quickly for any signs of their reinforcements. He shifted on his feet, tensed and poised for battle. He had been in this situation on more than one occasion and was not unfamiliar with hand-to-hand combat, but it had never been with the safety and security of a delectable female before. Still, there was no hesitation that he wouldn’t fight for her.
“You are going to have to get through me if you want her.” Edward’s voice was cold, hard steel as he lay down the challenge. He didn’t need to look behind him to know Eliza was there, he could feel her trembling fingers clutching his shirt fearfully. He wanted to be able to reassure her, but couldn’t break eye contact with the gang leader.