Joanna Maitland – His Forbidden Liaison (страница 3)
Jack pushed the arm a little higher. That did the trick. The assailant dropped his hold on the woman and tried to use his free arm to fight Jack off.
‘Save yourself!’Jack ordered in French. He needed her out of the way, so that he could ensure this man was truly disabled.
She ducked under their flailing arms and scrambled back into the bedchamber. But she did not bar the door. What on earth was the matter with her? Jack could not protect her and deal with the intruder at the same time.
The man was shorter than Jack, but much heavier. He was trying to use his free arm to fight. But Jack was behind him and he still had the man’s arm locked against his back. He pushed it even higher. A loud gasp of pain. The villain must yield now, surely?
Jack tried to push the man face-first into the wall, but he continued to struggle. And then he kicked over the lantern. Everything went dark.
Jack swore. Fighting this man in the dark was no easy task, especially as he seemed to be able to ignore the pain of the armoire. He tried to trip Jack’s feet from under him, but Jack was wise to that. He had wrestled too often with his brothers. Then suddenly the man used his free hand as leverage to propel his weight backwards into Jack’s body. Taken by surprise, Jack staggered, letting go of the armoire. Now he had lost his advantage, and he could see nothing. He heard, though. There was a low growl and a filthy curse. ‘I’ll have ’ee now,’ the voice said.
At that moment, a light flared. The woman appeared in the open doorway, holding a tiny candle high with her left hand.
Jack saw the scene like a
Jack took a defensive stance, waiting. In the flickering light, his assailant’s advantage was lessened, but he still had that knife.
The man risked a quick glance over his shoulder towards the light. He saw the woman, the light and the candlestick, and for a moment, his attention wavered. Now was Jack’s chance. He launched himself at the man, determined to wrest the knife from his grasp. He grabbed the man’s wrist with one hand, and his neck with the other, trying to half-throttle him to make him drop the knife.
It took only a second. The man groaned and collapsed in a heap on the floor. The knife clattered against the wall and was still.
Jack gasped in relief. ‘Thank God!’He had never known any man to succumb so quickly. He threw himself to his knees and pinioned both the man’s arms behind his back.
The woman’s bare feet edged a step nearer. Out of the corner of his eye, Jack registered that they were small and fine-boned. He looked up. Even in the half-light, she was very pretty, with a mass of fair curly hair and delicate features. Jack found himself trying to judge the colour of her eyes. Madness! This was no time for such idiocy.
The woman had put the candlestick on the floor and was undoing the belt of her wrapper. ‘Perhaps you would tie him up?’ She offered it to Jack.
He took it, suddenly conscious of the fact that she now had to hold her wrapper closed with her free hand. What glories was she concealing underneath? He remained stock still for a moment, his mind full of lustful imaginings.
‘Sir?’
Her slightly testy tone brought him back to earth with a jolt. She had every reason to be cross. His behaviour was inexcusable. He hurriedly used the belt to tie the assailant’s arms behind his back, making sure the knot was good and tight. The man would have severely bruised wrists, to add to his damaged shoulder, which was little enough by way of punishment for such a dastardly attack.
Jack had himself back under control by the time he stood up, though he was increasingly conscious of his half-naked state. It was no way to appear in front of a lady. And this fair-haired girl was definitely a lady.
‘It is generally best, ma’am,’ he said seriously, ‘to keep your bedchamber door locked when travelling.’The implication was clear. She had put herself in danger, and unnecessarily.
‘And I would do so, sir, but it is a little difficult at present.’ She picked up the candlestick, took a step backwards into the room and gestured at the floor. There was another body lying there.
‘You did that, ma’am?’ he said in wonderment. She had taken on two assailants, at least one of them armed, and she with only a candlestick? This lady was an Amazon.
She nodded, weighing her candlestick in her hand. ‘I hit him very hard. I hope I have not killed him.’ There was a slight tremor in her voice. ‘But I was alone, and afraid.’
Jack knelt by the second man and checked for a pulse. It was there, and surprisingly strong, considering what had been done to him. Jack rose to his feet. ‘Have no fear, ma’am, he is alive.’
She smiled then, for the first time. Even in the relative gloom, he could see that it lit up her face and her eyes. But he still could not make out their colour.
‘Do you have something else we can use to tie this one up? I have nothing, I’m afraid.’ He gestured towards his makeshift attire.
She gave a low laugh. ‘I should prefer if you did not remove your sheet for that purpose, sir.’ She turned back into her chamber.
Jack took a step after her to find that the room was piled with packages. He watched as the woman ripped one open and took out some material. It shimmered as it caught the faint light from the candle. There was a ripping noise, loud in the sudden silence.
‘Here.’ She offered him the piece she had torn off. ‘It’s silk. Stronger than the best rope. It will certainly hold him.’
Jack took the delicate fabric and began to twist it. Yes, it was strong, but it also felt wonderful against his skin, slippery, soft, sensuous. It was the sort of fabric that should embrace a beautiful woman, not tie up a ruffian. But it was all they had, and he used it. Then he hauled the body over the threshold and dumped it in the corridor.
‘Thank you, sir.’She was making to shut the door on him.
He held up a hand. ‘A moment, ma’am. Would you be so good as to tell me what happened? I cannot understand why you would have opened your door to such villains.’
She frowned, possibly a little crossly. ‘It would require a complete ninny, sir, to do such a thing without cause. Those men were trying to break into my room, to steal my goods, I imagine.’ She gestured to the piles of parcels. ‘I had a choice. To lie in my bed and wait to be robbed, even murdered. Or to confront them on my terms.’ She raised the candlestick. ‘Would you have had me do otherwise?’
Jack was not absolutely sure, but he thought her eyes might have flashed with anger as she spoke. His Amazon was certainly challenging him. He had been wrong about her, and he would have to apologise. ‘Your reactions were admirable, ma’am, and very courageous. If I have seemed to suggest anything else, I apologise.’
She softened a little then. Jack could see it in the slight relaxation of her shoulders. And she lowered the candlestick, too.
He peered past her into the room. ‘You have no maid, ma’am?’
She shook her head. ‘A manservant only. He sleeps in the carriage.’
‘It might be safer to have him sleep outside your door.’
She seemed to consider that for a moment. ‘You may be right, sir. I will remember your advice. And now, if I may impose on you a little more, I should be most grateful if you would arrange for these two would-be thieves to be taken to the authorities.’
He could not leave them as they were. Since only their hands were tied, there was a danger they might escape. ‘Might I have two more pieces of your silk, ma’am? I think their legs need to be bound while I go for the constable.’ He knelt once more by the two unconscious bodies.
At that moment, the knife man groaned. ‘I should have hit him harder,’she said, before turning away to fetch more silk.
Jack sat back on his heels. So much for his choke-hold. He owed his deliverance from the knife, not to his own quick wits and fighting skills, but to a brave French woman and a brass candlestick.
Ben dropped his valise, groaned and put a hand to his head. Even the weak spring sunshine must be too strong for him, for he was trying to shade his eyes.
‘Don’t expect any sympathy from me, Ben,’ Jack said. ‘In this part of the world, the wine is remarkably strong and pure hangover juice. It’s nothing like the fine champagnes we were served in Vienna.’
Ben groaned again. ‘I’ll know better next time.’
‘And perhaps, next time, you’ll be awake enough to help. If that French woman hadn’t been so handy with her candlestick, I could have been sliced up like a prime ham.’ He smiled softly to himself at the memory of his Amazon. A pity they’d had to leave the inn so early. He would have welcomed a chance to see her again, if only to ask after her well-being. And finally to see the colour of her eyes! ‘That ruffian certainly meant business,’ he added, forcing himself to put the fair French woman from his thoughts.