Prince of Ravenscar (Sherbrooke Brides 11)

“That’s all he says. Do you know, he was going to rape me?” For a moment, the awful fear nearly choked off Roxanne’s voice. She’d never been so afraid in her life.

She heard Devlin’s harsh fast breathing, saw him raise his fist. “No,” she said. “No, not yet. He didn’t succeed, Devlin.”

“Tell me,” Devlin said. He looked ready to commit murder.

Roxanne looked down at Manners, then drew a deep steadying breath. “He stood over me, his thumbs in his belt loops, and he was singing a sailor’s ditty, singing like he didn’t have a care in the world, and he was talking aloud to himself, going on and on about what a pretty little thing I was with all my sinful red harlot’s hair. He said he bet I craved a bonny gentleman, that I’d love what he was going to do to me. Then he was arguing with himself, saying things like who cared, nobody said anything about not having fun with me.” Roxanne realized she was nearly panting with anger and fear. She growled deep in her throat, and kicked Manners in the stomach. He moaned and cursed at her. She smiled. “He wondered if maybe he’d return me pregnant, ‘a brat in my belly,’ he so charmingly put it. Then he wondered if he would even be sending me back, and since he didn’t know what the gentleman had in mind for me, he’d best take his chance now.

“He saw I was awake, and he gave me a big smile. I remember he said, ‘Aye, ye gots yer brain back, that’s good. I likes to ’ear a woman moan for me while I sticks my manhood in ’er.’”

She could feel Devlin’s rage

pumping off him in black waves. She had to get a grip on herself. She’d won. Manners lay at her feet. Roxanne said, her voice stronger now, “When he dropped his britches, jerked up my nightgown, and came down over me, I really didn’t think, I simply reacted—I kicked up as hard as I could, just as my father taught me, and he screamed and cursed and fell back, holding his stomach. He fell, and he rolled around a bit, moaning and crying. I got loose, hit him on the head as hard as I could with that plowshare, and tied him up.” She stopped, smiled at all of them. “And waited for you. I knew you’d come, you see.”

It sounded so simple, so very easy, but how could she tell them she’d been so terrified she was whimpering even as she kicked him, that she nearly vomited when she finally had him tied up. And she’d hit him again on his head with the plowshare.

Devlin growled deep in his throat, fell to his knees, and grabbed Manners’s neck. “You puking little sod, say your prayers, because the Devil’s waiting for you.”

It took all three of them to pull Devlin off him.

Roxanne said to Manners, “I will make you a promise, sir. If you tell us who hired you, I won’t let his lordship kill you, nor will I let her chew off your cheek and steal your soul.”

“Wait a minute, it ain’t this fellow wot’s supposed to want ye, it’s this other one, this ’ere high-and-mighty prince wot’s got ’is ship back wit’ all ’is bloody goods jest fine an’ dandy. I ’eard that demmed bloody little gnat, Ira, got the fire out, quick as a flash and none o’ the goods was burnt. It weren’t fair, none of it were my fault.

“Ah, I sees now, this fellow wot wants to murder me is the prince’s little bullyboy. Don’t want to dirty up yer ’ands, do ye, yer princeship?” Manners spat, turned his head quickly so his spittle landed on rotted hay and not back on his own face.

Sophie crossed her arms over her chest. “What a moron you are, Mr. Manners. This high-and-mighty princeship here always does his own dirty work. As for his bullyboy, why, he might not be a prince, but he’s a lordship, and one of these years he’ll be a duke, only one step down from a prince. He really, really wants to kill you. Now, sir, if both Roxanne and I guarantee your miserable life, will you tell us who hired you?”

Manners looked mournful, saw it didn’t sway any of them, then looked philosophical. “Iffen I tells ye, I’m dead anyways, probably worse than ’avin’ the little girl chew off me cheek, though I can’t really imagine anythun’ bein’ worse than that. As fer drawing out me soul, I doesn’t know what that’d be like.”

Sophie was tapping her foot, her arms crossed over her chest. Tap, tap, tap. “Let’s take Mr. Manners back to Hardcross Manor. Let’s see what Richard has to say when he’s faced with this fool.”

“See ’ere, I ain’t no fool, I gots rotten luck, thass all. Wot’s’ardcross Manor?”

51

Roxanne liked Manners’s horse, a big brute of a gelding they found tied next to the barn, who whipped around his great head when Julian lifted Sophie behind Roxanne, and whinnied up at her. She patted his neck. “This proud fellow holds both of us easily, Sophie. I think I shall keep him. That sod doesn’t deserve him.”

“He probably stole him,” Sophie said.

“I think I shall call him Luther.”

“I can’t wait to see Richard’s face,” Sophie said, a good deal of satisfaction in her voice. “If you like, I will hold him while you punch him in the nose. Are you all right, Roxanne?”

Roxanne started to assure her niece she was fine, an automatic reflex of an adult to a child. But Sophie wasn’t a child. She was a grown woman. She deserved the truth. Roxanne stared straight ahead as she spoke. “I no longer want to cry and shake myself to death, and that’s a relief, but the terror, Sophie—it’s still clogging my throat, threatening to choke me. Truth is, I’ve never been so frightened in my life. Then to see all of you there—” Her voice broke, and she shook her head, steadying herself. “I was naming a bloody horse. Am I mad?”

“No, it took your mind away from what that horrible man put you through.” Sophie hugged herself tightly against Roxanne’s back. “You were so brave and so smart, you saved yourself. We weren’t in time, and I’m so sorry, but we tried. We had to hunt down Richard—he and Leah were having a picnic, if you can believe that—and it was only ten o’clock in the morning. Who wants a picnic at ten o’clock in the morning?”

“They wanted to be occupied with each other while Manners was holding Roxanne,” Devlin said, “so he could pretend innocence.”

Sophie drew in a deep breath. “Yes, that is why. Oh, Roxanne, I am so glad you’re my aunt, even though it means I have to put up with Leah. I hope she does marry Richard and the two of them can make each other miserable.”

Roxanne laughed. She was surprised there could be anything at this moment that could make her laugh, but then she realized that in her twenty-seven years there was usually something unexpected and quite absurd lurking around the next corner to rocket one’s spirits to the sky. She felt Sophie’s warm body pressed against her back, felt her arms tight around her waist, and was immensely grateful. For life and for Sophie. She looked over at Devlin, who was staring thoughtfully at her, as if he was considering a very knotty problem. Were you really so scared you forgot your hat? She grinned at him. “I shan’t fall over, I promise. Nor shall I faint. I should not want to dirty up your fine coat.”

“There is straw in your hair,” he said, and watched her hand automatically go to her tangled hair, then drop. He said, “Don’t worry about it. When we return to Ravenscar, I will tidy you up.”

“Do you like the name Luther?”

“Were I a horse, I would prance about with my tail flicking if I had that name.”