Chapter Eight

‘Riders!’ Seth pointed.

Zach drew rein inside the woods. Beyond lay open countryside, where he sighted two horsemen. ‘They’re travelling in the same direction we must ride.’

‘Then we’ll wait here until they’re clear out of sight.’

‘There’s no time.’ Zach looked at the woman asleep in his arms. She’d succumbed to fatigue. He checked the sun’s position against dark clouds overhead. ‘We’ve less than two hours of daylight. We must reach the coast by nightfall.’

Seth looked doubtful. ‘We can’t pass them without being seen. They could be in search of the woman.’

Zach shifted in the saddle. He nodded gravely. ‘I’ll take that risk.’

‘Surely you’re not thinking of exposing us!’

‘Only me. There’s no other way. We don’t know how long they’ll stay in this part of the country. We’ll swap horses and you’ll continue on with the woman. My mount is capable of bearing the weight of two people. Your horse can outrun anything.’

He nodded towards the riders. ‘I’ll act as a decoy and ride in the opposite direction. I want them to give chase.’ He grinned, welcoming the challenge. ‘I’ll make it worth their while.’

‘This is more than a game of cat and mouse, Captain. You’ll be risking your life. Two against one.’

Zach threw Seth a sidelong glance. ‘I’ve faced worse.’

‘But –’

‘When you deem it safe to leave the woods, do so. You know where to meet me.’

‘I won’t –’

‘That’s an order, Lieutenant! If I’m not there by dusk …’

Seth cast a nervous glance at the woman. ‘You’d better be.’

‘Press on as quickly as you can. See that you get there safely and give thought to her comfort.’

Seth grunted his obedience.

During the exchange of horses, the woman stirred, becoming fully awake in Seth’s arms. She seemed to register a stranger at her back and struggled to be free of him. Seth clamped his hand over her mouth when she looked set to voice her protest.

Zach laid a hand on her arm. ‘You need not fear my man. He’ll continue on and keep you safe. I have an errand to run.’

At this, she sounded a muffled squeal and tried to pry the hand from her mouth.

Zach squeezed her arm. ‘I’ll join you soon. Seth will protect you.’

‘That I will, my lady. Now be still so that I might put the blanket about you.’

She resisted and squirmed against him. Flustered, he tried a different approach. ‘Night draws close. Don’t force me to abandon you amid these woods.’

She stiffened. When her shoulders slumped in defeat, the lieutenant removed his hand from her mouth. Zach gave him a conspiratorial smile and handed him the blanket to conceal and wrap her in.

Zach put on his silk mask. His gaze returned to the lady. The more he examined her features, and the colour of her hair, the more he felt inclined to know her. There seemed a thread of familiarity about her eyes and their colour. Something about her expressions and the way her mouth moved when she spoke resonated with someone in his past. But who?

He swung up into the saddle and left the protection of the woods. When he reached the top of the rise, he pulled hard on the reins, causing his mount to rear up. It whinnied, attracting the attention of the two men. They looked to each other and then back at Zach.

Presenting himself as a lone masked rider, he was not wrong in his assumption that they would pursue him.

He waited until they’d gained enough ground to think they would catch him.

Zach took one fleeting glimpse at the woods where he’d left his lieutenant and the lady, before pressing the roan into a thundering gallop.

He urged his mount up a wooded hill. Intermittently, he risked a glance over his shoulder to monitor his pursuers’ progress. They seemed competent in horsemanship, leaning low in the saddle to avoid branches, and negotiating moss-covered timbers and shrubs. Misplaced hooves could prove lethal to both rider and horse.

He took note of his surrounds. A breeze had kicked up: branches swayed and leaves fell. Raindrops spattered through the leafy canopy. The light shower gradually increased to a steady downpour. The fresh scent of earth, water, foliage and horse sweat hung in the air.

Starting down the other side of the hill, he saw the valley, green and lush. At the point from where he left the woods, he spied his saving grace. He hoped the roan had enough left in him to jump as well as it ran.

They entered a field with ancient stone-walled enclosures. Zach murmured to his mount, giving the horse its head. It raced across the field at full gallop, its hooves sent clumps of soil and grass flying in its wake.

Zach leaned low in the saddle. The roan leaped into the air, clearing the height of the enclosing wall. Hind hooves clipped the rough-edged stones. He turned the horse in an arc before coming to a halt.

The two riders approached the wall. One horse stopped suddenly, refusing to jump. Its rider clung to the horse’s neck, spared from being thrown forwards. A sudden clap of thunder spooked the horse. It reared up. The man somersaulted backwards to the ground, his head hitting the damp earth with a violent thud.

The second rider cleared the wall. He turned to check on his companion who lifted his head, waved his partner on, then fell back, and lay motionless.

Zach wiped the rain from his brow. He shrugged out of his saturated long coat, transferring its cumbersome weight from his back to the horse’s rump. He leaped from his mount and braced himself for a confrontation.

Wet hair trailed past his collar. The drenched shirt and breeches clung to his powerful body. With his hand resting on the hilt of his sword, and an unyielding set to his mouth, Zach stared down the rider who galloped towards him brandishing a pistol.

He identified his opponent in an instant. It didn’t matter that they’d once been the closest of friends.

Today, they faced off as enemies.

The rider pulled the horse up with a jerk. The animal snorted, nostrils flaring.

‘Where is she?’ he demanded.

Zach inclined his head a fraction, grateful for the mask concealing his identity. ‘Marquess.’

The Marquess of Shafford dismounted. ‘As sure as this pistol is pointed at your heart, I will shoot if you don’t answer me now.’

Zach held his silence. Coal black eyes laid down a challenge.

Shafford cocked the pistol. ‘This is your last chance!’

Zach let no hint of fear show on his face. Not a muscle flinched when the marquess aimed at his shoulder, and pulled the trigger.

Nothing.

Zach contained his relief. ‘Water negates the use of gunpowder.’

‘Damn you!’ Shafford tossed the pistol to the ground just as more thunder sent the horses bolting into the relentless rain. His hand unsheathed the sword at his waist.

Zach did likewise, adopting a defensive stance.

The marquess began to remove his coat, then stopped as if thinking better of it.

Zach lowered his sword. ‘Please, take your time. Take it off. I wish to fight a man at his best, not if he is anyway disadvantaged. Hardly makes it fair, wouldn’t you agree?’

‘You try my patience, highwayman.’ Shafford threw his coat to the ground. ‘What are your demands? Money?’

‘That’s between myself and His Grace.’

Shafford advanced. ‘Tell me where she is!’

Zach stepped out of his way. ‘Though your intentions are honourable, I have no quarrel with you nor your man over there.’

‘Answer me now, or my sword will deliver what the pistol had threatened.’

Zach inclined his head as an invitation. ‘As you wish.’

They circled each other, testing the unevenness of the soaked ground underfoot. Each assessed the other’s worth, using timing and distance to measure his skill with a blade.

Shafford stepped forth, his sword moving to strike Zach on the outside of his right thigh. Zach deflected the razor-sharp blade with a swift parry.

‘You fight with an economy of movement, Marquess, yet you waste your time and energy on me. Your man has not recovered from his fall and is more deserving of your attention.’

No sooner had he spoken the words, than Shafford’s blade cut through the air. Zach danced to one side, his arm only just evading the cut. His own sword whipped forth, slicing off several buttons from his opponent’s waistcoat. They fell, lost in the long grass at his feet.

Shafford’s eyes narrowed as if picking up on a rare and exceptional skill.

Sensing this, Zach teetered between self-preservation and loyalty to his one-time friend. ‘Perhaps, Marquess, you’ve met your match. I suggest we dismiss this senseless duel and discuss –’

‘Your swordsmanship!’ Shafford touched his waistcoat where the buttons had once been. ‘You possess a lethal, accurate hand, highwayman. Why didn’t you slash open my chest, rather than ensure my tailor remains in my employ?’

‘As I said, my quarrel is not with you.’

‘Indeed it is! You may be a worthy opponent, but you are also a damnable liar. One to whom I shall grant no quarter. If you have harmed her in any way, you’ll know what it is to die a slow and agonising death.’

Zach raised a brow. ‘You are quick to judge a man.’

Shafford raised his chin and looked down his nose. ‘You are what you are. A man without scruples. A man with no honour is no man at all.’

‘Perhaps you should seek that man among your peers.’

Shafford lunged forwards. Zach parried with a lightning-fast bind, taking control of the other’s blade and flicking the sword from his hand. As it shot through the air, Zach caught it.

In the blink of an eye, the marquess found not one, but two swords pointed at him. He threw his arms out wide. ‘Do your worst, highwayman! Or do you only possess courage enough to intimidate women?’

Zach deftly swivelled the captured sword in his hand and offered the hilt to its rightful owner. ‘Your taunts are wasted on me. I’ve no reason to fight you.’

Shafford snatched it back. ‘No reason? Kidnapping my sister is no reason for me to fight for her honour? Her life?’

Sister? Zach staggered back a step and lost his footing in the sodden earth.

A grave mistake.

The marquess thrust forwards, piercing Zach’s right shoulder with the tip of his sword. White-hot pain seared flesh. Reflexively, Zach dropped the sword. His left hand clamped down on his shoulder. Blood oozed from the wound, seeping between his fingers. Diluted by rain, it ran in scarlet streaks down his white linen shirt. He bent to retrieve the weapon and froze at the touch of cold steel at his throat.

‘Leave it!’

The pressure of the blade forced Zach to slowly stand, and straighten. Triumph glittered in Shafford’s eyes.

‘How clumsy of you, highwayman. Perhaps I have bested my match.’

Zach held his tongue.

The marquess scowled, his lips pressed together in a thin line. ‘What have you done with Eloise?’

Eloise. He’d been blind to the obvious. Sail the stars! Why hadn’t he seen it before? Like pulling threads from cloth, he plucked memories from his brain. A vivid image of her parents overshadowed a dim picture of Eloise, the child. She’d inherited her mother’s green eyes and rich chestnut hair. From her father, a nature so stubborn it could drive a man to madness.

He recognised too, for the first time, a resemblance to the marquess – her brother – fierce protector. Loyal friend. How loyal would he prove to be now if Zach were to remove his mask?

As if reading his thoughts, the marquess touched the tip of his sword to Zach’s temple. ‘I suggest you cooperate, highwayman.’

The sharp tip moved towards the outer edge of Zach’s eye, cutting a fine line in the silk mask and the flesh beneath it. Blood stained his cheek.

Shafford stared down at Zach coldly. ‘The alternative will be the loss of an eye. Or both.’

Zach risked a glance at the skies. The rain had eased. He had no time to challenge the marquess in a battle of wits. ‘You can either carve me up piece by piece, here and now, or withdraw your sword whereupon we shall discuss the matter like the gentlemen we are.’

‘You? A gentleman?’ Shafford roared with laughter. ‘I doubt a lowly felon such as yourself even understands the meaning of the word. Remove your mask or my sword shall do it for you. I want to see the face of a lying coward.’

Zach fought to ignore the blinding pain in his shoulder, and the sting at his temple. ‘I’ve given my accomplice an order to kill your sister should I not return to him. Would you have me deliver her alive? Or dead? The choice is yours.’ He tried to remain composed, hoping the marquess wouldn’t see through his bluff.

Shafford’s eyes widened with panic. His hand, holding the sword, twitched.

Zach took full advantage of Shafford’s faltering concentration. With speed, his left forearm blocked and pushed away the sword at his face. At the same time, he mustered all his strength to lunge forwards and drive his fist into Shafford’s cheek, knocking him to the ground, unconscious.

Zach staggered as excruciating pain burned his shoulder. Ignoring the blood leaching from his shoulder wound, he moved quickly towards Shafford’s companion and examined his injuries. Satisfied the man would live to see another day, and that Shafford would rouse soon enough, Zach dressed his own wound as best he could, and fled.

Weary, Zach crested the clifftop along the western coastline. He gazed out over the Atlantic Ocean.

Cormorants stood upright on rocky perches, holding their wings out to dry after a day’s diving. Seagulls cried overhead. Below, along the crystal clear water’s edge, a group of oystercatchers used their long red bills to hunt for shellfish.

Blustery wind lifted the hair from Zach’s shoulders. It swept beneath his unbuttoned coat. He breathed deeply the invigorating life force. Surprising how a dose of briny air could revive one’s spirits.

The wind’s blast on his wet clothes chilled his skin, warmed only by the thought of seeing Eloise. Eyes closed, he took another deep breath and held it. He exhaled long and slow.

He surveyed the body of water between his ship and the shoreline, studying the outgoing tide and currents. Darkness would soon descend.

Though his wound throbbed, he’d bandaged it well enough to stem the bleeding. He had faith the ship’s doctor would remedy any risk of infection setting in. He scratched the dried blood from his temple. What was another scar on an already marked body?

The roan trod a careful path down the steep descent towards the beach. As one, horse and rider shared a sense of freedom and raced at a gallop along the sand. Hooves splashed waves lapping the shore. Zach turned the roan towards the cave’s mouth.

Above the sound of sea and surf, he heard the relief-filled shout of his lieutenant, who ran from the cave to greet him.

‘Captain! Thank God.’

The roan, startled, reared up. Zach gained swift control, easing it to a standstill. ‘What’s wrong, man?’

Seth threw a glance towards the cave. ‘Let’s just say I’m happy to hand her over to you.’

Eloise stood ramrod straight at the cave’s entrance, one palm laid flat against the rock wall, her other resting on her hip. Light from a fire inside the cave served to outline her form. She stood proud, ever defiant, the wind whipping at her chestnut hair and the folds of her skirt.

Zach dismounted. ‘So you’d rather swallow a dagger than deal with a genteel lady?’

‘Genteel? If she were carved from wood she’d make a formidable figurehead at the prow of a ship. She’d ward off evil and mythical sea creatures.’

Zach laughed. ‘I doubt your opinion would flatter Lady Eloise.’

‘Who?’ No sooner had Seth asked the question, he stepped closer, eyes focused on his captain’s temple. ‘I don’t need to guess how you got that. Who were those men?’

‘One, I didn’t know. The other …’ Zach’s gaze slid to Eloise.

‘The other?’ urged Seth.

‘Her brother. The marquess.’

‘Shafford?’

‘Yes.’

Seth’s mouth fell open.

‘Captain?’ shouted Eloise. ‘Where are you? I would speak with you. Now!’

The men exchanged a harrowed look.

‘She’s your prisoner,’ said Seth.

‘That she is.’ Zach handed over his horse’s reins. ‘This fine animal deserves a rub down, food and water.’

‘I’ll see to it.’

Zach’s boots crunched over pebbles and sand. He stopped at arm’s length from Eloise, glad to see she still wore the bandage to protect her eyes.

‘Captain, you have much explaining to do! You abduct me, keep me locked up Lord knows where, and then drag me on horseback across the countryside. Now you have me closeted away in a coastal cave. Where, exactly, are we? I beseech you, of what possible value am I to you, which requires you to haul me this far?’

The strain of her ordeal could be heard in her voice. It showed in the frown lines on her forehead and the tightness of her mouth. He took her arm. ‘Let’s take shelter inside the cave.’

She shrugged out of his hold, refusing to budge. ‘Here is just as good as any place to be having this conversation.’

‘You’re right. A beach cave is no place to bring a lady.’

She stood as if ready to fight for her life, her only weapon being words. Her breasts rose and fell upon a shuddering breath. ‘I’ll have you know my family holds favour with the Duke of Arlington. Deliver me home safely and I’ll forget this whole tiresome incident. Either that or, when you’re finally caught, the duke will ensure you pay with your life.’

I already have. ‘Holding favour with the king wouldn’t change my reasons for abducting you.’

‘You are yet to tell me those reasons.’

‘I … can’t.’ Zach’s lips pressed together. Pain and sorrow struck at the centre of his heart. His eyes shut tight against the memories of that tragic day. He closed his mind to the haunting high-pitched screams of a young child calling for her mother and father. Not one day had passed during the last ten years when he hadn’t suffered undeserved guilt over the gut-wrenching events of that catastrophic morning. And here, in this moment, that young girl stood before him as a woman who deserved to know the truth behind the death of her parents.

His eyes flashed open. His gaze fixed on her face. Now that he knew her name, he felt unworthy of speaking it.

‘This is intolerable!’ She stormed away from him, hands clawing their way along the cave wall.

‘Eloise!’

She jerked to a standstill and turned around. ‘How did you learn my name?’ The look on her face said he had no right knowing it. ‘Your man said you’d followed two riders. Who were they?’

Zach heard hope in her voice. ‘I recognised only one. Your brother.’

‘Julian! You saw Julian?’ She stepped away from the wall, arms outstretched. ‘Where’s my brother?’

Zach reached for her and pulled her close. Her fists pummelled his chest. They slid to his shoulders, fingers digging into his skin. Into his wound. He groaned.

‘What’s wrong?’ She sounded genuinely concerned.

Seth appeared from the shadows and rushed to his captain’s side. ‘You’re wounded!’

‘Slightly.’

Seth tugged away at the coat to expose a bloodied makeshift bandage. ‘Will it need stitches?’

Zach shook his head. ‘It can wait.’

‘What happened?’ cried Eloise. ‘Julian! Is he also hurt? What did you do to my brother?’

Zach held her upper arms firm. ‘No harm has befallen your brother.’

She slumped against him, weak with relief.

‘It is I,’ he added, ‘who came off second best. Your brother is swift with a sword.’

‘The skiff is ready,’ said Seth. ‘I’ll signal the ship to let them know we’re on our way. Doc needs to attend you immediately.’ He hurried off.

‘Ship?’ shrieked Eloise. ‘You never mentioned a ship!’

‘And yet you address me as Captain.’

‘But this’ – she spread her hands wide – ‘is not exactly a naval dockyard.’

‘Correct.’

‘Then …’ She hesitated, as if processing the information. ‘What is the purpose of your ship? What sort of dealings do you conduct without the protection of the law?’ A look of loathing transformed her expression. ‘Smuggling?’

Zach threw his head back and laughed, a sweet diversion from his painful shoulder. ‘You’ve an overactive imagination. You accuse me of being a horse thief, and now, the captain of a smuggling vessel? Give me more credit than that.’

‘You deserve credit for nothing!’

Zach vehemently rejected her remark. ‘If it helps ease your mind, then consider this. We stand at one of many isolated landing places well known to the smuggling brethren. My crew and I do not concern ourselves with the alcohol that lays weighted to the ocean beds. Nor do we disturb the contraband hidden deep inside these coastal caves.’

‘I’m not so sure, given your intimate knowledge of such goings on.’

‘My contacts know me not for smuggling, but for keeping their covert operations a secret.’

‘Oh? I’m sure you’re paid handsomely for your silence. No doubt with the money earned from their illegal imports.’

‘Not at all. In fact, we simply work together in keeping each other’s comings and goings a secret from the law.’

‘Then if you are not a horse thief, or a smuggler, what do you concern yourself with?’

Zach gave her a subtle shake. ‘You, Eloise. Among other matters.’ He’d been direct, honest. ‘In spite of what you might think, I’ve your best interests at heart.’

Her laughter bounced off the cave’s walls. Zach thought it music to his ears. A tune he could easily grow accustomed to. His lieutenant’s timely reappearance put everything into perspective.

Nothing and no one would deny Zach his revenge. It was time to leave.

Now.

He scooped Eloise up in his arms and strode to the water’s edge.

Her laughter broke off on a squeal. ‘What are you doing?’

He set his teeth against the shooting pain in his shoulder. ‘Taking you to the Justice.’

‘The what?’

‘My ship.’