Chapter Thirteen
Present Day
Nobi was huddled in the trees waiting as rain splattered down.
Great. Rain. Just what she needed on top of everything else.
Hopefully the pouring held off for a while.
Though even if it did, her tracks were likely being washed away.
Not that it mattered, she was sure the riders weren’t coming.
Something had happened to the driver, she was sure of it.
She only hoped he was all right. If everything had gone according to his plan, the riders would have caught up to her by now.
Surely. She wasn’t that fast on a horse.
Sure. Sure. Sure. Everything was sure and fine.
And even still, she was keeping pace with a fairly slow-moving carriage that had stopped for a period of time already.
How nice it would be if she could secure someone to help her…but she had a semblance of a plan at least.
Now she just needed to wait as long as it took to see which direction the carriage was going to go.
If they took the road to the right, they were going to Chris’s estate.
If they headed to his estate, she wouldn’t need to follow them so much.
She could ride ahead—get ahead—of the ruffians.
She could even try to set some kind of trap with the help of Chris’s servants.
What kind of trap, she had no idea. She wasn’t like her sister, Mimi, always fabricating scenarios in her mind.
Though…truth be told, those were a different kind of scenario.
A kind of scenario that had no place in her mind right now while she waited for the carriage to turn right.
Oh right…about that.
If they didn’t turn right, she wasn’t sure what her plans were going to be.
Just stay in the trees and try to be their unseen shadow.
Follow them. Do her best to get Chris away from them at some point.
Ride off together in the sunset. Well…no, not the sunset.
Again…not a Mimi fantasy here. Chris was her friend.
It would be more of a ride off together smiling, happy that he was safe kind of ride.
The only way either of those plans would come to fruition was if she didn’t get caught. How did spies do it? The thrill of getting caught was much less thrilling and much more chilling in her mind. She was not the adventurer. Yet here she was. She could do this. She had to do this.
Just then, she looked down at her dress. Pale pink. Of course. That wasn’t conspicuous at all.
As she was mulling over what to do about that bright fact, the carriage with Chris came rolling by. Thank God it turned down the road on the right.
She could trail alongside them in the trees, pass them at some point, and warn the servants. Lay a trap. If she could come up with a plan, Chris would be safe. Her friend would be free.
That’s all that mattered. Her friend. They had made promises after all. But she pushed those memories away for now.
She had to think about Chris and saving him, though how she was going to accomplish that feat seemed utterly unattainable.
She couldn’t even pride herself on her sharpshooting skills in the moment.
If push came to shove, she had no clue if she could live up to the task.
Of late, her accuracy had been atrocious.
There was no other word for it, and there was no denying it.
Her mind hadn’t been able to focus in the same way it had always been able to do in the past. That’s why she had ventured out to do target practice earlier this morning.
She might not have tried to squeeze in that small session before her trip home if her shot wasn’t off.
So…maybe it had all happened—was all happening—for a reason.
Maybe her shot needed to be off so she would insist on target practice for herself.
That led her to overhearing the ruffians which in turn was the trigger for her to go after Chris in the first place.
Perhaps it was meant to be. She would find him and save him. Somehow.
At least she had her pistol…she only hoped she wouldn’t have to use it. Through her pocket, she rubbed her fingers along the embellishments, subconsciously yearning for its soothing effect. The memories it brought back were a balm.
After the carriage plodded out of sight, her hands ran down her dress again.
It was a nice one, but, sadly it wouldn’t be for long.
She knew what she had to do. And even though she wasn’t a proud member of the haut ton, by any stretch of the imagination, a cringe overtook her as she considered what she was about to do.
Dismounting, she patted the black horse. “Good thing you’re already dark, hmm boy?” What would she do without the companionship of this horse? She was fortunate to have such a steadfast comrade for this mission.
And now it was time to get serious about her task. The horse was probably going to think she had lost her mind, but sometimes desperate times called for dirty measures.
So then, to her dismay, she plopped herself down in the mud (begrudgingly thanking the rain), and started to cover herself.
It was…she had to admit…the first time she had ever done something like this.
But if their carriage caught sight of her pale pink skirts through the trees, they would be onto her.
Was it overboard? Unnecessary? It might be. But she wasn’t willing to take the chance. She was, however, grateful for her dark hair that didn’t need a new coat of color. At least there was that…
It was taking too long to use her hands to cover her skirts, so she succumbed to the task and lay down in the mud. Cringing. Rolling. Finally, she sat up and started brushing off the excessive chunks.
This was all for Chris. Her friend. If she let herself think about the situation she felt as though she might just lay down in the mud and wait for someone else to step in.
But she couldn’t do that. No one was going to come.
And even if they were, Chris was too…special…
to her. There was something about their relationship that mattered too much to the universe.
Too much to her. And she knew he felt the same way.
They had made promises to each other, regardless of what happened in life.
And those promises had resonated with her down to her bones.
This is what a good friend would do. They would do everything in their power to save their friend. She was his only hope.
But this hope felt like a millstone around her neck. What she wouldn’t give to just be having tea with her sisters this afternoon.
The horse puffed out some air and let out a soft whinny. A shudder went through her. “I know, boy. But this will all be over soon enough. We’ll get ourselves through this. I just know it.”
When he stamped the ground, she was about to speak a few more words of encouragement, but a strange prickling sensation crawled up her spine. And it was not the good kind. Things couldn’t get any worse than they already were, could they?
She was rolling around in the mud, with only a fast pistol and an unnamed horse as companions, on a mission to save her man friend from an abduction that she had no clue how to accomplish. What more did the universe need to throw at her? Wasn’t she being tested enough? Wasn’t this adventure enough?
But apparently things could get worse. Apparently she could be tested with an even more directly terrifying obstacle to overcome. Apparently, fate didn’t dole things out fairly or in small quantities. This was her greatest challenge yet.
“Looks like you might be in a spot of trouble?” A deep, rumbling voice caught her attention. She looked up at a giant of a man. Sandy hair, light eyes, and a crooked smile. But was that a crooked friendly or crooked criminal smile?
Oh God, she could be in really big trouble right now. But not the kind of trouble the giant was referring to, the kind of trouble a giant could bring. She had no way of knowing whether she could trust him or not.
Sitting in the mud probably made him look taller than he was.
Perspective was everything. But now was not the time for metaphysical grumblings, and now was certainly not the time to impulsively trust a stranger.
Soaking wet and covered in mud gave her a new appreciation for anonymity.
The man didn’t know her. Couldn’t really decipher too much about her either.
She could be whoever she wanted to be. She could say whatever she wanted to say.
She could do whatever she wanted to do. The freedom was unnerving. But not more so than his presence.
“I’m fine,” she mustered with as much dignity as a woman caught rolling around the mud could manage.
He raised an eyebrow. “It doesn’t quite look that way to the average passerby. Wouldn’t you admit?”
“I’m not concerned with the average passerby.” She waved her arm in the air, flinging a few droplets of mud in the still dripping rain. She wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed that no mud spots landed on him. At least it meant he wasn’t too close to her. “Be on your way, sir.”
“It’s not in my nature to pass a damsel in distress.”
Her voice firm, she retorted, “I’m not in distress.”
When he took a step closer, her nerves tensed. This man could help or hurt her, but again, she wasn’t willing to take any risks when it came to her friend’s safety. She needed this man to leave and she needed to be on her way so she could get to Chris.
“I can help—”
She reached into her pocket through the hole that led to the garter around her thigh.
Finding a good grip on her pistol, she brought it out, leveling it at him.
Never in her life had she aimed a gun at a man before.
Too anxious to take note of whether her arms were shaking or not, she schooled her features and said with all her authority, “I said, be on your way. Now.”
His hands rose to the sides of his face in the universally recognized gesture of innocence.
He was waving a white flag. And so he should.
She was the one with the gun. God, she hadn’t even considered what she would do if he had one.
Inwardly, she shuddered at the thought. But she didn’t let that show.
She had to be strong. She had to dig deep.
She had to be the warrior she knew Boudicca to be.
She had to be the reassurance she knew Joan to be.
She had to channel the intensity she knew Mimi to have.
She was a part of her sisters, always had been.
When they forged their ridiculous duke dare, they had all been together.
It didn’t seem so silly now, that they had each committed to the dare, especially now that each one had snagged a duke.
It had all been for her, Nobi. It would be her turn soon.
Enough. Hopefully she could take the leap.
If she wanted to do so after all of this was said and done.
It might just be another risk she wasn’t willing to take. She wasn’t sure she had it in her.
Then again, her sisters hadn’t done it alone.
When Boudicca needed them to turn a blind eye, they did.
When she needed them to help her make a hasty getaway, they were there.
No questions. When Joan had needed a couple of pushes to see the truth about how she felt, the sisters showed up.
When Mimi needed a listening ear and then words of encouragement, she counted on her sisters.
Whenever the three needed her, she was there for them. And right now, they were here with her. Holding her gun steady, she glared at him, waiting for him to relent and leave. Nothing was going to deter her from her mission.
With a huff, he dropped his hands and turned to go. His parting words were an almost petulant grumble, “I was just trying to be a friend.”
“I don’t need any more friends,” she breathed out slowly. “Go.”
He turned and mounted his horse, giving her a slow salute.
Self-doubt spiraled in her mind. He was probably a safe bet…but really, she just couldn’t take the chance. There was no chance she was willing to take on Chris’s safety.
Standing up, she watched him ride off. Then, almost unbidden, she muttered to herself, “I have enough friends.” And that word, that precious word almost had a tinge of bitterness laced through it.
To most that word was treasured. It was a compliment.
Sometimes it was a secret, but it was always appreciated.
People bragged about having this word. People sought out this word.
People strived to be this word. And up until recently (perhaps even right now), Nobi always cherished that one little word.
It was something you wanted to have. In fact, most people wanted a lot more than one of them.
But right now, she was only thinking of one in particular that she had, and the word just didn’t quite do justice to Chris.
That one little word.
Friend.