Chapter Forty-Five

Surely, this could not be happening to her! The cold, heartless blade poised to slash through the narrow thread of Flora’s life…it was the stuff of nightmares, not reality.

But the steel felt real enough to her, as did the hard, muscular arm which pressed her against a man’s bare chest, forcing her to inhale the stench of his sweat. Her senses were stretched to their utmost—every sound, every sight magnified, every sinew stiff and alert, her veins pulsating with energy. An energy that could save her life if Barnabas let down his guard for just a moment.

Her eyes met Lawrence’s, and in them she saw the fear, the horror, and the fury that she should be feeling. Only, she couldn’t allow herself to feel anything. Emotion clouded judgment. She needed a clear head if she was going to get out of this with her skin intact.

He did, too. Their time together had been too brief. She wanted more. Much more.

She remained deadly still, her eyes never leaving Lawrence’s. The world slowed, then stopped. She could see his mind working frantically, judging distances, timing, weighing attack against negotiation.

Suddenly, there was the sound of light footsteps scampering up the stairs, followed by the violent eruption into the room of a snarling Charley. The dog leaped for Barnabas’ knife hand and sank his teeth into it. Sally screeched and pulled the bedclothes up to her chin.

The distraction was all Flora needed. Wrenching one arm free, she jabbed her captor in the ribs with her elbow as hard as she could, broke his hold, and fell into the room and Lawrence’s waiting arms.

“Call your damn dog off,” Barnabas grated out, “or I’ll carve him up like a ham at the butcher’s.”

Charley growled and dug in with his back paws, pulling Barnabas to his knees. The knife hit the floor.

“His teeth will be through the bone before he lets you do that,” was Lawrence’s reply. “Flora, there’s a knife in my boot. Take it.” He motioned her to stand behind him, and she pulled out the knife, holding it in both hands, ready to defend herself.

“Keep an eye on Sally,” he ordered. “Don’t be afraid to use that knife on her. She’s been harboring a fugitive, so she’s a felon, too.”

“You cowardly bastard!” shrieked Sally, leaping up from the bed and rushing at him.

Lawrence might be quick and capable but letting him battle on two fronts was too risky. Flora threw herself at the other woman and sent her flying to the floor, then sat on her.

Sally’s astonishment was palpable, but she was too winded to speak.

Not giving her time to recover, Flora helped herself to a generous handful of hair and yanked on it. “Much as I hate to hurt a fellow creature,” she said, “I’m prepared to make an exception under the circumstances. Move a muscle, and I’ll pull it right out.”

“Call off your dog!” Barnabas shouted again. “Come fight me like a man! Or don’t you have the stomach for it?”

“On the contrary,” Lawrence replied calmly. “It would be my pleasure.”

“Lawrence, no!” Flora called, terrified he’d be cut to ribbons.

“It’s all right,” he told her. “I need to finish this.”

Sally jerked beneath her, so Flora pressed the cold blade of the knife against her cheek. There was no further movement. Not even when Jud and Mrs. Carboys burst into the room. The schoolmistress took in the sight of the naked Sally and half-dressed Barnabas, threw a hand over Jud’s eyes, and backed out of the room, sputtering.

“Charley, down,” Lawrence ordered. “This is my fight now.” He shifted his knife deftly from one hand to the other, then back again.

Flora felt sick. What if he was hurt, or even killed, right in front of her? She loved him more than life itself. But being saddled with Sally, she couldn’t lift a finger to help him. She chewed on the inside of her cheek and prayed.

The dog let go and came to sit nose to cheek by Sally, his tail twitching, his ears folded back, and his teeth still bared. The woman practically stopped breathing. Sally had given up any hope of escape.

Barnabas brandished his knife and leveled it at Lawrence.

Flora was chilled to her very soul. She prayed harder.

Both men bent their knees, brought their arms in close to their bodies, and circled slowly. Barnabas’s knife swooped out, then back again, missing Lawrence’s neck by inches. He took another swipe, but Lawrence dodged nimbly out of the way, then took the opportunity to jab him under the armpit.

Barnabas gave a yowl of pain, and his expression darkened. “You even fight like a coward,” he spat out.

Lawrence looked cool and detached, taking no chances, giving nothing away. “On the contrary. I fight like a winner.”

Mercy, that was tempting Fate! But Flora could say nothing, do nothing. The slightest distraction could be fatal for him.

There was more circling, and some feints from Lawrence which Barnabas ignored. Then Lawrence leaped in with impressive speed and brought his knife slashing across his adversary’s bare chest. Blood beaded along the cut. Not deep, but a distraction. A sign, she hoped, that Lawrence had the upper hand.

Once again darting out of reach as Barnabas surged forward, and then parrying a blow with his forearm, Lawrence said, “If you yield, I won’t kill you.”

“I’ll die anyway, if I yield,” Barnabas snarled back. “But I’ll take you down with me when they put me on trial. I know more about you, Dr. Campaign, than you’d want anybody else to know.”

“A pity, then,” replied Lawrence levelly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, “that I’ve already received a full pardon.”

“You traitor! You’ve traded in your fellows for thirty pieces of silver? Or was it just to impress that Jezebel with you, that oh-so-innocent-looking trollop?”

Lawrence paled. “Don’t you dare talk about her like that. You’re not fit to breathe the same air.”

He mustn’t get angry! He had to keep control, or Barnabas would triumph.

Sally started to lift her head. Not taking her eyes off the fight, Flora pressed the blade of the knife harder against her cheek, then whispered in what she hoped was an implacable tone, “Move again, and I’ll cut off your ear.”

Ah, well. It rather looked as if she and Sally were not going to be partners in the millinery shop, after all.

Barnabas made another slash at Lawrence but overreached himself. As his arms flailed wide in an effort to regain his balance, Lawrence somersaulted past him, leaped to his feet, and seized him from behind, pressing his dagger against his foe’s neck.

“I should slit your gizzard right now for threatening and insulting my woman,” he said. “But I’ll let her decide your fate. Flora?”

She struggled to concentrate, terrified the battle was not yet done, every nerve stretched to breaking point lest the peddler find some way to escape Lawrence’s grasp.

All at once came the heavy tramp of feet on the stairs, and Corporal Triggs burst in, followed by three other redcoats and an out-of-breath Jud Creasey.

“Flora?” Lawrence still held her gaze, his eyes burning. “What shall I do with this miserable excuse for a human being?”

“Send him to the assizes, to answer for his crimes,” she managed to say. Murder was not an option, as much as she now hated the man who’d threatened her life.

Would Lawrence really have killed Barnabas for her? A man whose heart was set on curing people, not taking lives?

She didn’t get a chance to ponder the question. In a blur of movement, Lawrence thrust Barnabas into the clutches of two soldiers.

A third stomped over to point his rifle at Sally. “What’s the woman done?”

“Harbored a fugitive,” Lawrence said as he lifted Flora off Sally and into his embrace.

“You are so brave, my angel,” he whispered in her ear, his voice cracking with emotion. “I’d do anything for you. I’d give you the earth if it were mine to give. At the very least, I’ll give up my wandering life, and find another way to provide for you, if you’ll only promise to marry me.”

She could barely speak past the lump in her throat. “Of course, I’ll marry you! A life without you in it would not be worth living.”

Sally, now swathed in a sheet and in the grip of Corporal Triggs, said in a voice dripping with vitriol, “He’ll never be true to you. He’ll break your heart. I’ll watch him do it and applaud.”

“They won’t be able to hear you. The colonies are a long way away. Assuming the magistrate don’t choose to hang you,” Triggs said gruffly. “Thank you, Dr. Campaign, for capturing this piece of scum and his trull. Though we weren’t far behind you, having decided to try our luck in East Town.”

The two were hustled from the room, leaving Flora with just Lawrence and Charley.

“Well,” he said, spinning her to face him. “I suppose we’d better start making plans.”

Were they really going to be married? She could hardly believe it.

“Lucinda will be horrified,” she said with a smile.

“She may choose to disown you altogether,” Lawrence said somberly.

“One can only hope,” Flora said, her smile growing larger.

“The Daniells will be appalled,” he said, and grinned.

She chuckled. “Which means they’ll stop visiting and I’ll finally have my house to myself again,” she said happily.

“Correction. You will be required to share it, at least for the time being. With me.”

Joy flooded through her entire body. All the pieces were falling into place. She didn’t care a jot what anyone said about her choice of husband. She had no regrets. Well, perhaps just one…she wished she’d realized sooner he was the only man for her.

He cocked his head. “Are your servants at home?”

A thread of need spiraled through her. “They won’t be home until much later.”

“So, your cottage is empty.” There was a very wicked twinkle in his eye.

Anticipation flickered to life in her belly. There was nothing like the threat of imminent death to sharpen one’s appetite for life. And the greatest pleasures it had to offer.

“I’m quite tired after the morning’s excitement,” he announced, his innocent expression belied by his devilish smile. “My wagon’s in too much turmoil for use. May I rest my head on your pillow for a little while? Charley will happily settle down on the hearthrug. I’ll get him a hambone, to reward him for his bravery today.”

She warmed to the smile of the man she loved, desire blossoming. “Of course, you may,” she said. “Whenever you wish.”

“Are you quite certain you’re prepared to exchange a spying sister and nosy neighbor for the burden of a demanding husband?”

She twined her arms around his neck. “That all depends on what he’s demanding,” she whispered.

“You are incorrigible,” he murmured.

Joy charged through her like a wildfire. Was it really possible to be so happy? “What do you demand of me, Lawrence?” she asked softly, brushing her lips lightly across his.

He returned the kiss gently, teasingly. In a voice so low she could hardly hear, he said, “I demand your heart.”

She pulled back and saw his eyes were dark, uncertainty boiling in their depths.

“Oh, Lawrence,” she said, holding him as tightly as she could. “Never doubt it. I’m yours, heart, body, and soul.” She choked back a sob. “I weep for joy that you want me, too.”

“This is the last time I’ll ever let you weep,” he vowed.

He kissed away the tears of happiness coursing down her face, then pressed her body against his, until there was not a chink of space between them, until they felt like the same being.

And Flora knew her heart had finally found its sanctuary.