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The Viscount. Lyn Stone
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From the corner of her eye Lily watched two shadows detach themselves from doorways she and Guy had just passed. They were being followed.
“Easy,” Guy whispered. “Ride just ahead of me. Don’t look back.” She had hardly heard his words. Her pulse thundered in her ears. Her muscles had tensed, alerting the mare who began to dance sidewise, her head jerking the reins to the left.
Suddenly as that, two men dashed out of the darkness. One grabbed her mare’s bit with one hand, attempting to drag Lily from the saddle by her leg with the other. She screamed and the mare reared, breaking the brigand’s hold. Lily grasped the mare’s mane and held on.
The fellow struggled up from the cobblestones where he’d fallen, cursing foully as he flew at her. A huge shadow enveloped him from behind and Lily heard a distinct snap.
With a cry of terror, she dug her heels into the mare’s flanks, but with reins tangled, only succeeded in guiding her into a tight circle.
“Hold fast!” Guy ordered. “And ride!”
She loosened her grip and let the frightened mare have her way.
Lily glanced over her shoulder. Like a circus trick rider, Guy bounced once and swung onto the gelding that was already nearing a gallop. Behind them, two dark heaps lay unmoving on the cobbles, barely discernible in the blue-gray glow of the moon.
“Face ahead and turn right,” Guy shouted as he caught up to her.
They cut sharply down another side street that led into a small park with overhanging trees. There Guy drew up and she did the same.
“Are you hurt?” he asked politely.
“Who were those men?” she gasped, trying hard to steady her jerky breathing as she ran one hand through hair dampened with the sweat of fear.
“Old acquaintances out to settle a score, I expect. Not to worry.”
“Not to worry?” she snapped, piercing him with a look of anger. “They meant to…accost us!”
“And so they did,” he replied, reaching forward with one large hand to gentle the gelding with a pat, his voice as matter-of-fact as if he commented upon the fair weather. “But that’s the end of that.”
“You…you killed them?”
He sighed audibly and sat straighter, looking back the way they had come. “Yes, well, it’s time we rode on if you are not too shaken.”
Shaken? Two men lay dead in the street! She knew without asking he had broken her attacker’s neck with his bare hands. Had likely done that to the other man, as well. He had not even drawn that pistol he wore in his belt or warned them off.
Lily shivered, unable to speak of it. Instead she meekly followed as Guy took the lead and guided them to what appeared to be a main thoroughfare.
“This is Lambeth Street,” he informed her idly, as if they were merely out seeing the sights of London. He set a calm pace, seeming in no rush to get where they were going or to avoid anyone coming after them as a result of the dead robbers.
Whom had she married? Lily wondered.
She had to admit she might not have lived to wonder about it at all if he had not reacted to the attack so forcefully. Even now those two might be following, still bent upon mayhem if he had let them go with a warning. Another violent shiver racked her.
“Cold?” he asked, obviously having noticed.
Lily shook her head.
“Everything will sort itself out,” he told her gently. “You’ll see.”
Everything might have a bit too much help in the sorting, Lily thought with a mirthless laugh that sounded like a groan. For now, all she could do was hope she never need see this frightening side of the Devil Duquesne again.
Only now did she realize that his reputation was based in reality. The rumors were true.
For all his wit and good humor, the man apparently could kill without compunction, without any remorse whatsoever. Had he already gone as mad as his father, the earl?
And to think her marriage to Duquesne was a fact now, only to be undone by the death of one of the parties involved. Chills ran up her spine as she glanced at him.
The devil wore a smile.
Chapter Four
L ambeth Street forked onto St. George, which, in turn, connected to Kent Road. Once they reached it, Lily recognized landmarks. Meadowlands stretched to their left beyond the humble dwellings and mean business establishments strung along the roadway. They kept a steady pace.
“We’ll pause for a rest when we reach the crossing at the Darent and then again at Wrotham,” Guy told her.
He was dividing the journey into thirds, Lily noted. Ten miles at a stretch would not exhaust the horses if they paced them properly. Lily knew she would be more than ready to dismount for a while when the time came, unused as she was to riding astride and without the cushion of her petticoats.
Her worries about her new husband’s sanity had dimmed somewhat on further introspection. She supposed she should be glad he had the experience to deal with such threats instead of bemoaning the fact that he was capable.
Hadn’t she deliberately hit Brinks on his head more than once to save herself? Would she not have killed him—given the means and strength—if he had rallied too soon and threatened her? In the heat of the moment, in fear of her life, she might have done so, Lily admitted. Who was she to pass judgment on Duquesne?
If she were wise, Lily knew she should put all thought of the incident behind her and not dwell on it. There were too many problems ahead.
“You have a good seat,” he commented.
“So have you,” she replied, then broached a topic they had not yet discussed fully. “Should anyone ask, when did we meet? And where did we marry?”
“Tell the truth. We met on the green of Edgefield town when you were a lass in short skirts. And recently we became reacquainted.”
“I warn you, Beau tends to be rather outspoken, even with his elders. He could give everything away.”
“Ah, I cannot imagine a child of yours being forward, Lily. Who taught him such things? I wonder.”
She heard the laughter in his voice and it should have reassured her. He is not mad, she told herself firmly. Here he was, teasing her about her son, behaving in a perfectly normal way.
“I suspect it runs in Beau’s blood. You knew my father.”
“Not well, save for attending an occasional service of his when I was young, and of course that day when he pressed me to haul you both to Dr. Ephriam’s. But those references do make your point sufficiently. You must miss him terribly.”
She smiled to herself. “Oh, yes, I do. I only wish he could have known my son. Beau is very like him.”
“Ah, secure in his opinions and not averse to sharing them?” He chuckled. “Better a bit headstrong than a milksop who cowers in corners, eh? Will he resent your bringing home a husband?”
Lily sighed. “We shall see. There is no anticipating how Beau will react. You’ll have to win him over.” She realized how demanding that had sounded. “If you wish to bother with it.”
“Why wouldn’t I bother? He’s your son, Lily. It’s important that we get on well. I look forward to the challenge.”
If nothing else, he must realize that Beau was her heart, the one person left in this world she would die for if need be. The wise thing for her to do would be to foster Guy’s affection for herself and her son so that he would stand a bulwark between them and any threat to their well-being. God only knew she wanted them both on his good side.
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