Chapter 14
Fading Light
Hart’s fists were clenched, fury surging through his veins like acid as he kept his gaze on the man holding Toby hostage, watching the interplay between him and the woman.
Poor Toby looked insubstantial in the villain’s hold, his face so pale his eyes stood out, wide and dark with terror. When Hart got his hands on those bastards, he’d make them wish they’d never been born.
Yet for the moment, they held all the cards. The knife at the lad’s throat ensured their compliance more than any gunshot. A pistol was only as accurate as the person pointing it, but it would take less than the space between one heartbeat and the next for them to slit Toby’s throat.
The cart arrived, and Hart realised the driver must be the second of the thugs who had attacked him in the stables, the one Angel had shot, judging by the sling on his arm and the awkward way he moved.
Well, that evened the playing field somewhat.
The woman climbed into the back of the cart and threw some tools onto the ground, a couple of shovels and a pickaxe by the looks of it. She climbed out, carrying two lanterns, set them down side-by-side. Then the men lifted Toby and put him in the cart.
Hart fought to keep himself still, the urge to run and grab Toby hard to resist. The small sound of distress Angel made struck his heart, and the desire to murder someone with his bare hands only grew.
Whoever the woman was, she was clearly running the show.
The way she moved, the way the light caught the rather gaudy silk flowers on her bonnet, struck a memory.
With a curse, Hart realised he had seen her before—dammit—in Cranbrook.
She had been watching Toby and had been following them all this time.
The woman’s eyes met his, perhaps sensing his dawning recognition. She grinned at him, looking pleased with herself.
“Right, dearies. We’ll be off now, but don’t you fret.
We’ll take good care of the laddie. You come and find Stan here—he’s the fellow with the knife—when you’ve got Black Jack’s loot, and don’t go thinking of trying to cheat me, or I’ll take it out on this young fella. Do we understand each other?”
“But I don’t know where it is!” Angel’s voice, taut with fear, rang out across the heath.
Hart suspected that wasn’t true, but he wasn’t about to contradict her—not that he expected her words to make a jot of difference.
“Then I reckon you’d best get busy. I’m not a patient sort of woman, Miss Everdene,” she spat.
Hart shot a glance at Angel. He’d suspected Baxter wasn’t her real name, but he wondered how she felt at him hearing the truth.
Angel said nothing, just held the woman’s gaze. The wicked creature just grinned wider, enjoying her power over them.
“I might decide to while the time away by marring his sweet face, marking him up a bit. Or perhaps I’ll break a finger or two.”
Toby whimpered.
“You touch a hair on that boy’s head and you’ll regret it,” Hart growled, so furious now he could hardly see straight. “Toby, lad, don’t be frightened. We’ll get you back safe. I swear it.”
“Oh, ain’t he a big, heroic fellow?” the woman crooned, admiration in her voice. “I can see why you kept him about, Angel, my pet. A fine bedwarmer he must be. Still, I can’t stay and chat. It’ll be dark soon, and you’ll be wanting to get busy. I’ll see you soon, though, eh?”
With that, she laughed and climbed up beside the fellow with the sling. The other man hauled his bulk into the cart and sat beside Toby.
Helpless to do anything else, they watched them take Toby away.
“Oh, miss!” Milly ran towards them, tears streaming down her face. “Oh, what shall we do?”
Hart glanced at Angel, who was white-faced, though her eyes blazed with the light of retribution. The hair on the back of Hart’s neck stood on end at that look.
“We’ll get Toby back,” she said, her voice icy as she stalked back to the gig.
“B-But what about the treasure?” Milly asked, stumbling after her.
Angel shook her head, whatever it was she’d decided to do fixed in her mind.
“Those devils will not keep Toby for a moment longer than I can help it. Did you see the look in his eyes? He was terrified, poor boy. Besides, we’d do best to strike hard and fast, they’ll not be expecting it.
They’ll think we’re too cowed and that we’ll just do as we’re told like good boys and girls. Well, to hell with that.”
“Angel?”
She turned on him, eyes flashing fire. “Don’t try to stop me,” she warned, with such ferocity his heart gave an erratic thud. Good Lord, but she was magnificent.
“I wasn’t about to,” he said frankly. “I just wanted to know what the plan was.”
For a moment she just stared at him, and then she ran to him, throwing her arms about him and hugging him tightly. She didn’t say another word but let him go and strode back across the heath to the gig.
“Who is she, Angel?” he asked, keeping pace with her.
She glanced up at him and swallowed. “I don’t know, but she knows my grandfather, or about him, anyway. He was always careful, so very careful, but a man with such a reputation can’t vanish entirely. People have long memories, they talk.”
“Your grandfather was Black Jack?” he guessed, wondering why the name seemed familiar.
Angel stopped in her tracks and let out a ragged breath. Turning to face him, she put up her chin. “Leo, you’d best know the truth. My grandfather was Black Jack Baxter.”
Hart stared at her in confusion for a moment until the penny dropped. Good Lord!
“The pirate?” he said, eyes wide with astonishment as recalled the tales about one of the most notorious pirates who had ever lived. He’d loved hearing stories about the man as a lad, enthralled by his boldness and ferocity.
She nodded, wrapping her arms about herself.
“Yes. He died recently, but… but he told me he had buried the last of his treasure with Jenny. It’s my inheritance.
He challenged me to find it and made me promise no one would have it but me.
But I think someone else knew about the treasure and realised he would pass the secret on to me. ”
Hart whistled under his breath. “Now I see why you were so eager to get shot of me,” he said with a wry smile.
Angel shook her head, walking on once more. “It doesn’t matter now. Nothing matters except that we get Toby back.”
Hart reached out and grasped her arm, hauling her around to look at him.
“We’ll get him back, and we’ll teach those blackguards not to mess with us again.
But then we’ll come and get your treasure, Angel, and you will have it and keep it.
You don’t need to fear me. I’d never take anything from you. I just want to help. That’s all.”
She returned a wan smile and nodded. “Yes. I think I realised that earlier today. I’m… I’m sorry it took me so long.”
Hart shook his head. “There’s no need. Now, tell me. What’s your plan for getting Toby back?”
Angel regarded him, her expression determined as Milly caught up to them. The woman’s face was tear-streaked and pale with worry. “We know Stan is going to be at The Bull, which means they must be keeping Toby close by. They can’t keep him somewhere respectable; it would raise too many questions.”
“That’s true,” Hart agreed, admiring her instincts. “They headed east, and there are plenty of farms scattered about the heath. I reckon they’ll find a barn, something that feels like it’s fallen out of use. Unless they’ve got someone they know in on the plan.”
“It’ll be dark soon,” Milly observed, hugging the shawl about her shoulders tighter.
Angel nodded. “Which must mean they know where they are going and it’s not far.
” She regarded the ground, which was sodden and muddy after so much wet weather.
“I can see the tracks. It will be slow going, but if you ride ahead, we can follow. If we go quietly and carefully, we can take them by surprise.”
Hart nodded. “I reckon we’ve got less than an hour before we lose the light. We’d best get a move on, though we need to keep out of their sight too. We’ll take the gig as far as we can, but it’s too conspicuous. We’ll have to hide it and my mount and go on foot once we’re close enough.”
Hart watched as Angel walked over to the tools the villains had thrown down and picked up a shovel, hefting it between her hands. “I’ve got my pistol and a dagger, but these should prove suitable weapons too,” she said, handing one to Hart.
He grinned at her as she moved to the back of the gig and rummaged through her bag.
“I like the way you think.”
She pulled a bundle from the bag and unwrapped her pistol and a wicked-looking dagger.
She caught his gaze and smiled grimly as she tucked the knife into her boot and held onto the pistol.
“They belonged to Black Jack,” she said, moving around to climb into the gig.
She paused as he gave her his hand to step up.
“And yes, he taught me how to use them.”
Hart could only stare at her, wanting more than anything to know all that there was to know about this astonishing creature, this delicate lady who had no compunction about tracking down villains, or shooting a man.
But there was no time for that now. Toby needed them, and they could not let the boy down.
Quickly, Hart stowed the tools and lamps in the back of the gig.
There was too much chance of being seen if they lit the lamps, so they must make the best use of what remained of the daylight.
Mounting his horse, Hart rode ahead of them, following the cart tracks, as Angel and Milly trailed him in the gig.
The pony shied and danced in the traces as Angel’s hands tightened on the reins. Forcing herself to relax her grip, she murmured soothingly to the beast, who calmed and trotted on.