lady in one piece."
The Duke grinned, the scar on his cheek whitening as he said deliberately, "So brave, my small foe, with your giants behind you. I've yet to see you prove your worth. You do a lot of fine talking, but I'll wager you're no more than a bluffing puppy giving himself airs." Lucien laughed scornfully, adding softly, "You swine, you're not fit to lick the boots of a guttersnipe."
Bonnie Charlie's violet eyes blazed with anger at the Duke's sneering contempt, and losing control at his baiting, lifted a hand and struck the Duke full across the face.
Lord Wrainton gave a gasp of astonishment and remained deadly still. Lucien grinned malevolently. "Not much strength for a renowned and supposedly vicious highwayman, but as much as I'd expected from a braggart."
"Get back in the coach if you value your mongrel skin," Bonnie Charlie ordered hoarsely, his gloved hand shaking as he leveled his pistol even with Lucien's heart.
"My pleasure. I begin to grow chilled," Lucien acquiesced in a condescending tone and followed the Marquis into the coach.
Bonnie Charlie backed up to his horse and agilely mounted, and for just a second glanced away from the coach as he grasped the reins. In that instant the Duke withdrew a pistol from his coat and fired it at the giant guarding his coachmen from the back of his horse. John grunted in pain and momentarily dropped his guard, but before the astonished coachmen could react Will had fired a shot into the ground before them, halting any movement they might have made, and Bonnie Charlie had fired his pistol into the door of the coach causing the Contessa to scream in alarm and Lucien to draw back for protection.
Signaling to Will and John, Bonnie Charlie urged his mount through the prisoners, scattering them in alarm, and disappeared into the trees, Will and John doing likewise, but in different directions.
The footmen ran to their weapons, but by the time they'd reached them and turned to aim, the highwaymen had disappeared into the darkness of the forest.
Lucien stared grimly after them, his lips thinned in anger, then climbed from the coach to confront his coachmen who were standing sheepishly in the road.
"Well, how did this happen? I had assumed you were all armed for the likes of these highwaymen?" Lucien demanded, a dangerous glint in his eyes.
"Was a tree, Your Grace, fallen across the road and causin' us to stop. In this weather we never thought 'twas highwaymen. And then from nowheres these giants appears and aims them pistols at us before we could even draw ours. Would've laid us low if we had," the head coachman explained ruefully, seeking confirmation from the other abashed faces around him. "Got to move the damned tree besides," he added, looking balefully at the fallen tree across the road that had caused all their trouble and was now still blocking their way.
"I trust this will never happen again? I only allow one mistake of this nature while you're in my service, so don't disappoint me again," the Duke replied coldly. "Now get this cleared as quick as you can," he directed. "We've been delayed long enough as it is." Turning, he walked back to the carriage, his broad back looking uncompromising and stern to the chastened servants.
"Well, don't just stand there gawking. Get to it. You're not in a funeral procession yet," the head coachman yelled, giving the closest boy a cuff on the ear that sent him scurrying.
"We shall be on our way presently," the Duke informed Lord Wrainton, who was leaning weakly against the soft cushions of the seat. "Are you quite all right, Contessa?"
"Si," she replied faintly, her fingers nervously clasping and unclasping her pearls.
Lucien settled himself in the coach and stared silently out of the window. The scar on his cheek still throbbed with anger.
"Why the hell did you do it?" Lord Wrainton finally found the courage to ask the Duke's aloof profile.
Lucien glanced over at him coldly. "Do what?" he asked haughtily.
"Risk
David G. Hartwell and Kathryn Cramer