Chapter 4 #2
“Order your passengers out.”
The man sank to his seat. “No!”
“I say…” Lance waved his replica of a fine pistol. “Tell them to come out.”
The man turned and yelled towards the cab.
In the window, Lance saw Emma’s face. At first she was bewildered, then frightened. But now, as the coachman left his perch and jumped down to open the door, she met Lance’s gaze and her fear went to shock, then to recognition.
She took the coachman’s hand, climbed down and approached Lance. “Why do this?”
He met her and let his horse dance around her. “You know why.”
“No. I am at a loss.”
“How many in the carriage?” He knew she’d be concerned about gossip of this, but in Crawley he’d seen the other passenger. The woman was young, pretty—and already tipsy when she joined Emma and Diana in the coach.
“Only three,” shouted Diana from the window. “My cousin, me and Miss Frobisher, Mister Highwayman, sir. And …um…sir? Miss Frobisher is very frightened.” But by the grin spreading across Diana’s glowing features, Lance could tell the girl enjoying this tremendously.
“Tell Miss Frobisher, she need fear no one.” He walked his horse nearer Emma. “Certainly not me,” he crooned as he slid to his feet, removed his mask and took Emma in his arms to put his lips to hers.
Willing, pliant in his embrace, she allowed him his kiss. Long and soft, intrusive at the end, but quickly satisfying, his capture of her mouth was just as he had hoped.
“Why?” she asked him, dazed, as he pulled away.
“Because you need surprise and laughter.”
Her arms, tight around his neck, she sank her fingers into the wealth of his silky hair at his nape. “Why could you not wait and do this properly?”
“In a ballroom? Or church?”
He took her lips once more, a leisurely claim of reassurance. “I’ll do that too. And soon. But I wanted you to remember and value what had happened that day.”
“Oh, I do recall every moment.”
“That I kissed you?”
“Thoroughly.”
“That I told you I loved you?”
“Unforgettably.”
“And that if I ever had the means, I would return for you and carry you away to happiness….and marriage.”
“Oh, yes, such a declaration a woman never forgets.”
“I renew it all now, my darling.”
It was then Lance felt the barrel of a rifle in the small of his back.
“Ye’ll take yer hands off the lady.” The coachman was at the ready to do Lance in.
Emma nodded at Lance that he should obey. “Best to do it.”
“Aye.” He put up both hands in surrender and faced his captor. “Sir, I know you think I—”
“Yer Captain Moonlight. Aye! Fer certain. But no more. Ye cannot have her money or the other ladies’. And ye’ll not be abusing them with kisses.”
“Sir, I am not ab—”
“Well, it looks like it to me. Give me your pistol.”
Lance handed over the imitation weapon he’d crafted the day before just for this occasion. “Take it. Note its craftsmanship, sir. It’s fine grain.”
The coachman, who’d taken Lance’s wooden toy with one hand, stared at it as if it were a crawling creature. “What is that?” He cried and fingered it round and round in his hand.
“It’s—”
The man scrunched up his nose. “It’s wood? Ye…ye attacked us with this?”
“Yes, it worked. You thought—”
Emma came around to stand between them. “Lower your rifle, sir. This gentleman is no Captain Moonlight. He’s…he’s a friend who came to make a point with me.”
“And frighten us out of our trousers?!” Word was that one highwayman had robbed a fellow only of his breeches.
“Yes, well, there is that,” she admitted with a snicker.
“But as the lady says,” Lance began.
But the coachman cut him off. “I should tie ye up and take ye to the nearest magistrate.”
“I know, but I really meant no—”
“There’s Bow Street Runners after ye, too. Did ye know?”
“No.” Lance went still. “That is news.”
“Right you are! Got to catch ye. Stop ye.”
“But, sir,” Emma said, thoughtfully pointing a finger at the coachman, “this man is harmless. He carries a dud and wanted no money or valuables. On the contrary, this so-called Captain Moonlight highwayman rides with one other man.”
“That’s correct,” Lance added. “I am alone.”
“Ba! And you?” The coachman inched closer to Lance. “What’s yer purpose? Kissing all the ladies in the land?”
“Only one,” Lance said with a smile at Em. “Only this one.”
“Oh, pull-eese!” Came a lady’s cry from inside the carriage.
Lance and Em glanced over. The coachman took a step to look toward the carriage.
Miss Frobisher, red in the face, and brandishing a shiny silver flask, stood before the carriage, weaving.
“Talk, talk, talk. Enough, I say. Can we get on? Eh? He didn’t shoot us.
Thank you, sir.” She gave a graceless little bow.
“He didn’t shoot her. Ha! But he did take your breath away, didn’t he, duckie?
Takes mine, I tell you. Captain Whateveryourname is, you can come kiss me any time.
Now!” She burped. “You, sir, you tuck your rifle away. You, Mister Dashing, take back your big wooden thing. Kiss your lady once more goodbye. I heard your proposal, so you’ll find her later.
And I wish to get to Brighton before my bladder bursts. Never did like a bourdaloue.”
And at that, she hoisted herself up—rather gingerly—into the cab.
In the window, Diana stared at the three on the ground and chuckled.
The coachman cursed roundly, threw up his hands and strode away, muttering he was going to the Runners, he was!
Emma stared at Lance for a shocked minute.
He gave a laugh, then bussed her on the cheek. “I say adieu.”
“And to you, Captain Weatherman or whatever you call yourself—”
“Weather of Cork and Pork.”
“Oh, stop! You incorrigible man! At least this time there is no Lady Shackleford, but we don’t know about Miss Frobisher.”
“She’d be no tattletale,” Lance reassured her. “She won’t remember a thing!” He tipped his hat and escorted her to the carriage. “To Brighton, miss. Where I have plans for us.”
“No more of this, I do hope.” She flicked the edge of his black scarf.
“None. All above board, quick and neat.”
“You are very determined.”
“I have had ten years to do nothing but hope one day our challenges might drift away. Then, suddenly, they disappeared, and I had a few months to plan to make you mine.”
The mellow adoration in her eyes nearly sent him to his knees. “I am so glad you’re back.”
“And this time I’m not going anywhere without you.” He took up her gloved hand and kissed the back.
“Brighton, sir.” She had to tease him. “Before our coachman changes his mind and arrests you for attempted robbery and indecently assaulting a lady.”
“Get inside now. You focus too much on the negative.”
“I’ve had practice.”
“A bad habit I will rid you of.”
She cupped his cheek and murmured. “I await the correction with anticipation.”
He indicated she must get in and sit down, then he closed the door. “Watch me.”