“Eliza.” Isabella turned to their eldest sister, her voice low. “One of us needs to climb out and make it to the driver’s seat to get the carriage out of here.”
“How close are the men? How many of them are there?” Eliza asked as she looked out the window.
Emily could see her sisters forming a plan. As usual, they were jumping to aid their family.
Shame washed through Emily. How could she allow them to put themselves in danger time and again while she stood on the sidelines? Because they’d always taken care of her, protecting her from harm. And yes, she appreciated their concern and love, but at twenty years of age, she was more than capable of assisting them. Now, more than ever, she wanted to find a way to prevent anything like what had happened after their mother died from reoccurring. She couldn’t always rely on her sisters to solve her problems, could she? She looked out her own window, trying to assess the danger. Trying to figure out a way to help.
Abigail peeked through one curtain. “I see two. Ten or fifteen paces away.”
“I see three,” Emily said. “Two further back and one right next to the door.”
Eliza nodded. “Ok, I’ll bash that one with my umbrella and then Isabella will climb into the driver’s seat and whisk you all to safety before the others can reach us.”
“But what if he grabs you?” Isabella asked.
Emily watched Eliza as cold fear flickered across her eldest sister’s face before she carefully masked it. That was Eliza. Brave, bold, and willing to sacrifice for her family.
“I can’t have you being the only hero,” Eliza said as the door rattled. Any moment now their attacker would have the carriage door open.
Isabella tightened her grip on the door. “Eliza. You’re not likely to climb back in if—”
“I’ll be fine.” Eliza grabbed the handle too. Then she whispered, “Get our sisters to safety and marry that duke. They need him and so do you.”
Emily grabbed the handle too, pushing Eliza’s hand away. Eliza could not sacrifice herself today, their sisters needed Eliza alive and well. Emily, with startling clarity, realized that she was completely dispensable. “Give me that umbrella.” Then she snatched the pole from Eliza’s hand. With a quick breath of air, she pushed the door open. “Now!” she yelled.
The door swung out and, with all three of their weights behind it, Emily felt the moment that the wooden panel hit the attacker.
He grunted, stumbling back, and Emily jumped out, hitting him with the umbrella. The force of it rattled through her body, but she didn’t stop as Isabella followed her out, scrambling to the front of the carriage and onto the seat. She saw other men rushing toward them, and her hands shook as she turned, wielding Eliza’s umbrella like a sword.
But the first man had recovered, and he grabbed her from behind, holding her in his beefy grip. A scream ripped from her lips.
Eliza had also climbed out and jumped on the man’s back, clawing at him and attempting to wrench Emily out of his grip. For her part, Emily tried to twist away but his hands were so strong she couldn’t escape.
Another man barreled toward Emily and for a moment, another scream built in her throat. What would the two men do to her and her sister? How had she ever thought she was strong enough for this?
But this new man yelled, “Go!” And then he swung his fist, hitting the attacker with a force that sent the man sprawling to the ground. The hit jarred through Emily even as Eliza jumped out of the way.
Isabella gasped from the bench. “You!”
In an instant, their hero pushed Eliza through the open door, and she fell to the carriage floor. “Go!” he yelled again and then grabbed up Emily around the waist, clutching her to his chest as he reached for the back of the carriage.
Distantly, she heard Aunt Mildred give a shriek as Abigail leaned out and slammed the carriage door shut again.
Emily could barely register a detail except that the moment her body tucked against his, his strong arm circling her waist, she felt…safe. She wrapped her arms about his neck and tucked her head against his shoulder, completely protected by his large strong frame.
And then another emotion skittered down her back. He was lean and strong, and she looked up into his square jaw and penetrating eyes…he was sinfully handsome.
Dark hair ruffled in the breeze as the carriage began to move. The wind, bitingly cold, plucked at her cheeks but he pulled her closer to his body.
“Isabella,” a voice rang out into the damp air. Uncle Malcolm. Emily would know the sound of that voice anywhere. “Come back here.”
She didn’t look back nor did she answer as the carriage picked up speed. She’d never look at or talk to that man again. Uncle Malcolm was dead to her.
Another shot rang out and the man protecting her gave a grunt. Had he just been shot? Her hands tightened on his shoulders as she looked up into his face. “Are you all right?” she gasped, feeling his muscles under her fingers.
“I’m fine,” he answered, and for the first time, he looked down at her. His eyes were a hazel green and fringed with dark lashes. He had strong cheekbones and a square jaw, with a full mouth that stole her breath. “I’d never let anything happen to you.”
Rain began to fall, cold and harsh, the January sky dark grey and ominous. But somehow as the carriage sped away, she’d never felt warmer or safer.