Three

Darington swayed in silence as the coach slogged through the slush of the cold January day, wondering how long he was obligated to remain in England before he could return to his ship and a warmer climate.

“We are engaged at Mrs. Howell’s tonight.” Lord Wynbrook smiled at the occupants of his town coach. Darington had met Wynbrook years ago at university and he was one of the few people Darington considered a friend.

“So soon after your sister’s wedding?” asked Kate, Dare’s twin sister. “It was only just yesterday.” Dare agreed that two social engagements in the span of two days was entirely too many.

“Shocking as it may be, there is not a mourning period after a wedding that must be observed before one can show oneself again in public,” replied Wynbrook with a muted expression and laughing eyes. With his chestnut hair, green eyes, and impeccable tailoring, he was a stark contrast to the somber color palette preferred by Dare and his sister.

“Ought to be,” muttered Kate, staring out the window as the coach continued to push toward London. She was decidedly unadorned in a plain wool coat and serviceable bonnet. Her straight, brown hair was pulled back into a plain bun, but there was nothing she could do to hide her striking silver eyes.

“Should be a fresh crop of ladies for you to meet.” Wynbrook gave Darington a wink. Nothing could fill Dare with greater dread.

Darington had been in the London area for two months. During this time, he had repaid all the original investors in his “shipping” enterprise, become acquainted with London society, and asked two ladies to marry him.

Neither one had accepted.

“Perhaps you can pass along my regrets,” replied Darington. He would have much rather spent the evening with a book. Or the paper. Or staring at the blank walls.

“Ah, but you would leave the ladies devastated not to catch a glimpse of the Pirate Earl,” laughed Wynbrook.

The Pirate Earl.

When Darington had returned to London with a small fortune, it did not take long for the rumor to spread that he had acquired his newfound wealth through pirating. He had attempted to explain the difference between a pirate and a privateer, but the name Pirate Earl stuck, only increasing his discomfort in society.

London society ran on mysterious, obscure guidelines, for which there was no written rule book. While he was sure in his interactions with his fellow man, attempting conversation with a lady left him completely at sea. Invariably, he found himself staring, confused, at petite, sweet-smelling, muslin-clad creatures who giggled and batted their eyelashes and made him break out in a cold sweat.

If it wasn’t for the fact that he was required to marry and produce a legitimate heir, he would have returned to Gibraltar months ago. Unfortunately, since permanent bachelorhood would bring an end to the line of the earls of Darington, he was obliged to look for a bride. Though he was beginning to feel he had done what he could in the matter and a tactical retreat would be permissible.

After a morning of swaying back and forth in a carriage, they stopped at a nondescript posting house for food and a change of horses. Following a reviving meal with far too many other travelers for comfort, Dare wandered out into the cold, crisp air. A light dusting of snow covered the ground and thick, gray clouds threatened more of the same. He breathed deep of the refreshing cold air, his breath showing in the frosty air. He noted boot prints in the snow and guessed his sister had also gone outside to avoid the crowded common room.

Kate was generally of a reserved disposition, but she had become almost hostile toward Lord Wynbrook. Despite her outward irritation, she put herself often in his company. They verbally sparred in public and kissed in the library when they thought no one was looking. Apparently, Dare was supposed to pretend not to notice.

A muffled shout caught his attention and instantly his senses sharpened. Noises of a struggle came from the other side of the posting house. He strode quickly on long legs and broke out into a sprint when he heard a scream. He knew the voice.

It was his sister.

He rounded the posting house in time to see four men shove Kate into a coach and take off down the frozen road.

“Kate!”

Dare ran to the stables, grabbed the reins of a horse from a surprised stable lad, and took off after the coach. He raced down the road, bits of ice and frozen earth flying as his mount’s hooves struck the road.

Who were those men? Why had they abducted Kate? Were they hurting her? He kicked his mount to run faster. Kate was his only family. Nothing could happen to her. Nothing.

* * *

“Put on your best frock for dinner. Eustace will be joining us.” Regina did not look at Emma as she pronounced the words that filled Emma with dread.

“So soon?” Cold dread ran down Emma’s spine.

“Yes. Tomorrow is your birthday. He wanted to be here for it.”

“I see,” murmured Emma, keeping her voice low to prevent Regina from hearing her panic. Emma had been busy over the past fortnight arranging her escape but had not expected Eustace to return for a few more days. He must also have been busy arranging her demise. She should have realized he would wish for her to be committed before she could assume control of her estate.

Regina had grown quiet over the past few weeks. Emma had hoped when Eustace left, her stepmother would warn her or do something to help her, but Regina had remained silent.

“I had best get ready.” Emma turned to leave, her mind spinning. She was not yet ready, but she would have to leave before Eustace arrived.

“You should have married Eustace when you had the chance,” Regina called out to her.

“No, I should not,” said Emma firmly, turning slowly to face her stepmother. She had second-guessed most of her decisions lately, especially her scheme to leave home and travel halfway across the world to marry a man she had never met. But she had never, not even once, considered marrying Eustace.

“No, I suppose you are not well suited,” Regina admitted softly with something akin to true sorrow in her eyes. “Emma…”

“Yes?” Emma waited for her stepmother, hoping to hear a word of warning or at least kindness from the only mother she had ever known.

Regina’s face hardened again and she looked back at the window. “Do not run off to the village today. You know Eustace does not like to wait for his dinner.”

With any luck, Eustace would be waiting a very long time. “Goodbye, Regina,” whispered Emma as she left the room. She had much to do.

* * *

Darington swallowed down emotion and forced himself to return to the cold detachment that was essential in a crisis. He kicked his mount again, speeding down the road in the direction of the coach. He moved the reins to his left hand and pulled out the pistol he always kept in his greatcoat pocket. He knew he was outnumbered and his chances were slim, but this was his only chance to save his sister.

The road curved through the forest, snow and ice glistening off of the stark branches. Dare leaned forward and urged his mount faster. Rounding the bend, the coach suddenly came into view. He veered off the road and through the trees, branches slicing past him. He emerged back on the road next to the coach, the chaos within visible through the frosted window. Inside, his sister, bound and gagged, was fighting four men. One of them grabbed her by the hair and raised a massive fist to strike her in the face.

Reacting by instinct, Dare kicked in the window and jumped into the coach, knocking the large man away from Kate. The three other men in the coach reached for their pistols. Dare shot one, gunpowder and smoke filling the carriage.

One of the men returned fire. The shot missed, but his ears rang. Dare dropped his own weapon, grabbing at the loaded pistol of the third man, holding it away and punching the man in the nose with his right.

Kate yanked down her gag. “Robert, watch out—”

The large man who had attacked Kate crawled up from where he fell, grabbing the pistol from the shot man. The shot sliced into Dare’s side, exploding his senses with white-hot pain. His legs buckled and he collapsed to the floor.

“No!” screamed Kate.

“Lie still or I’ll kill you!” threatened one of the abductors, throwing her to the floor of the coach beside him.

He had failed. His vision narrowed, and Dare knew he did not have long before he lost consciousness. He lay on the floor of the coach, his hands at his side where the bullet had torn through. It burned like hell. He let his body move and sway with the jerky motion of the coach, feigning unconsciousness, all the while fighting off the seductive pull to just slip away. Somehow, he had to get Kate out of there. He couldn’t die until the job was finished.

He glanced at the door of the coach and then his sister. Kate was lying with her back to it. He had a plan. He moved slightly to get into position. Every movement, every breath, was misery. White pinpricks danced before his eyes. He didn’t have long.

He caught Kate’s attention, glancing up at the door latch, then back at her, willing her to understand. Her scowl deepened and her lips tightened, but she gave a nod. Slowly, he positioned his feet so they were lying flat against her stomach. He held her gaze, trying to impart his apologies. He was going to hurt her in the process of trying to save her life.

It was Kate’s turn now. With a sudden movement, she reached up with her bound hands for the side door latch, opening it. At the same time, Darington kicked her hard against the now-unlatched door. She flew out the opening and disappeared from view. Robert’s heart broke, seeing her fall from the coach. He had succeeded in getting her out of the coach; he only hoped she had found a soft place to land.

“What the devil?” yelled one of the abductors.

“Stop the carriage!”

“Get her!”

Several men attempted to run after her, but Darington jumped up, ignoring the screaming pain, and slammed a fist into the soft midsection of one of the abductors. He grabbed at another one, wrapping his arms around the man’s head, wrestling him to the floor and blocking the path to the door with a tangled mass of bodies. Every breath was agony and gray haze narrowed his vision.

One man, managed to escape the coach.

Kate, run!

His sight faded to black and he knew nothing.