“But—”

Knight was gone before Louisa could utter another word. He slipped out of the door with surprising stealth for a man of his size. Pressing her head against the side of the carriage like Knight had, she could view the two men in front of the vehicle, presumably making their demands. Her mouth dried, and she had to force herself to swallow.

Where was Knight? Oh Lord, they were all going to end up dead. She could not see him at all. He must have slipped around the carriage somehow.

None of the highwaymen were on horseback and the carriage was manned by two footmen and a driver, so they outnumbered their attackers, but these men carried weapons. One had a pistol while the others had blades.

The driver possessed a gun surely? And Knight had his pistol. Cornwall was known for its dangerous roads thanks to its barren stretches of land, and with plenty of places to hide from any kind of retaliation, holding up travelers was an effortless way to make profit.

They would be sorely disappointed with her lack of riches, however. And disappointed highwaymen were dangerous.

One of the men lifted the pistol up to the driver. A squeak escaped her, and she pressed a hand to her mouth. She leaned farther forward to get a better view and spied Knight coming up from the side, his pistol drawn and pointed at the gunman. Louisa allowed herself a slow, shaky breath. Knight had likely dealt with many a crook. He would have no trouble handling these men.

A hand thrust through the window and a cry escaped her as she darted back, grubby fingers almost snatching a fistful of hair.  She scrabbled back on the chair when the door flew open and a face thrust in the door. His gapped smile mocked her, and he lifted a sizeable knife, motioning with it.

“This way, if you will, my lady.”

She glanced around the confines of the cabin. There was no escape, and she could not tell what was happening outside any longer. She slid herself off the seat, gaze set on the blade that the man taunted her with.

Moving slowly, she climbed out of the carriage, hands raised. She forced her body to stiffen in an attempt to cover how her limbs shook. The man grabbed her, constraining her against his body with an arm banded about her waist. The knife glinted menacingly by her face.

“Step back,” the man holding her ordered Knight.

Knight’s gaze met hers, and she frowned. She saw no defeat in his eyes, no frustration. Coolly, he took a pace back and lowered the pistol he had pointed at the other man. Louisa quickly took in the situation, pushing herself to calmly calculate what was happening—just like she would were it a fight at the inn or some other fracas. The man with the pistol kept it centered on the driver. The two footmen had their hands raised and were near the second man who watched them.

And the third man had his blade dancing close to her cheek. She drew in a shuddery breath. One wrong move and he could slice her with ease. If she could only figure out how to get away from that knife. If she threw herself down to the floor, that might do it, but it was a risk.

She met Knight’s gaze again, and he gave her an almost imperceptible nod. She scowled. Surely he could not understand what she was thinking? She implored him with her gaze to give her another sign of some sort but he’d turned his attention back to the lead man.

“All you need to do is give us yer coin, and we’ll leave yer be.” The gunman jerked his gun at the driver. “Tell yer driver to get down and we can get this over with.”

Knight nodded. “Johnson, will you come down, if you please?” Knight glanced back at Louisa and mouthed something.

She realized, as she threw herself hard to the ground, it was now.

A shot rang out. She lifted her head to see the man who’d been holding her clutching his arm as he staggered back. Blood seeped from between his fingers and he dropped onto his rear, his face ashen. The blade fell from his grip and clattered onto a rock. Louisa scrabbled forward to grab it and peered around at Knight while she clutched the handle of the weapon in both hands in an attempt to stop it shaking.

Before the gunman let off a shot, Knight raced forward and used his brute strength to drive the man to the ground. He was weaponless within moments and knocked senseless with two punches. The third man dove forward, his weapon thrust out.

“Knight,” she cried out in warning, but too late. As Knight swung around, the blade tore through his clothes. Knight’s face contorted, and he swung a fist at the man, propelling it into his gut. The man collapsed and gasped and flailed like a fish out of water. Knight finished him off with a quick kick to the head and his eyes rolled back.

It happened so quickly, Louisa hardly had time to process it. She remained crouched on the ground, her grip on the blade handle so tight that her fingers started to tingle. Knight strode over, a hand held out, but her arms were stiff and her legs felt like liquid.

“You are safe now,” Knight said.

It was all she needed to hear, somehow. She let the knife drop from her aching fingers and took his hand. The warm, callused touch eased through her body, enabling her to come to her feet and draw in the first full breath she’d inhaled since the men had set upon them.

She peered back at the man cradling his arm. “You nearly killed him.” Not far to the left and the man would be dead.

“I missed,” Knight muttered.

Louisa met his gaze. No wry amusement crinkled his eyes. His jaw was set, his dark eyes hard as stone. Sometimes she thought there was more to Knight than a ruthless henchman, but times like this proved her wrong.

“You did well,” he told her. Knight motioned to the driver. “Let’s get moving.”

All three men were out of commission. The one who held her captive remained kneeling on the floor, his hand clamped over his arm. With the others senseless, it was clear they were no longer a threat.

“But your back.” Even from where she was, she could see blood staining his clothing.

Knight shook his head. “It’s a scratch.”

She snatched his arm and forced him to twist away so she could view the torn layers. The knife must have been sharp as it had sliced through his jacket and shirt. She peeled apart the fabric and grimaced.

“It is not deep but it needs cleaning.”

Knight shook his head again. “That can wait. I have no intention of remaining here any longer. We have no idea if they have any accomplices. These sorts travel in large groups.”

“And here I thought all the stories were of lone highwaymen.”

“Any lone highwayman is a fool and would be dead the instant he held up a vehicle.” Knight snorted. “Not much of a story.”

She eyed the cut again and quickly untied the fischu from around her neck. “Stay still,” she ordered and pressed the fabric through the slice in his clothes and against the cut. He hissed.

“That will stem the bleeding if you just rest on it.” She lifted his hand and pressed it over his lower back to keep it in place.

He did as he was ordered, even if he did look disgruntled doing it. “Now we really must move on.”

Nodding, Louisa accepted Knight’s help in climbing into the carriage and set her gaze on the interior.

Arms wrapped about herself, she focused on her heavily thudding heart while the carriage moved forward once more. Each long breath she took slowed the beat until she could almost feel all her limbs again and hear everything over the sound of her own pulse. She shook her head to herself.

“I am sorry you had to be involved in that situation.”

She realized Knight had been watching her. “I was not shaking my head at that. More at myself.” She motioned out of the window. “I deal with men like that all the time—well, similar to that. Men who think they can do what they wish in my inn. But today...”

“Today you were not in your inn,” he pointed out.

She sighed. “I suppose you are right. It’s different when you are in your own territory. Not that you seemed to have a problem.”

“I am used to fighting in enemy territory.”

He drew out the pistol case from beneath the seat and loaded the weapon with gunpowder and shot, performing the movements with practiced ease, despite the uneven ground that made the carriage rock.

Louisa swallowed. “You expect more highwaymen?” 

He shrugged. “We are in a fine carriage. It is bound to attract attention.” His gaze darted briefly over her. “There is no need to be scared. I will keep you safe.”

The words were said with scarce emotion or passion but she believed him. He’d already proved he would at the inn and now on the road. She did not much like the idea of having to be protected but she had little choice at present.

“The driver says there’s a traveler’s inn at Taunton. We should reach there by nightfall and then we’ll only be about a day’s travel from Bristol.”

And then she would be on her own. She clamped her arms back around her waist. The sooner this sorry situation was sorted, the better. Only a day away from home and they had been set upon by highwaymen, and Knight had been injured. She already missed the bustle of her inn and the reassurance of routine. With any luck, she’d prove this man an imposter and be on her way home in no time.