Miss Hastings' Excellent London Adventure (Brazen Brides Book 4)(59)

 

Then he saw her head twist around as if she were trying to glimpse at their followers. Thank God.

 

He was bombarded with murderous thoughts at how inhumanly she had been treated. Her arms and legs were bare—in this bitter cold. As he drew nearer he saw that her slim hands were tied behind her back. If the fiend had bound her hands, why in the hell did he not allow her sit the horse? She could hardly have gotten away.

 

And why in the hell hadn't the cur had enough compassion to at least offer her a blanket?

 

Adam longed to turn the tables on the vicious man. Would he like to be stripped almost bare and forced to ride through a frigid night with the blood rushing to his head?

 

That they were able to catch up with the vile man brought joy on several levels—first and most critical, Emma was alive. And the man must not have defiled her innocence.

 

When they got close enough, William yelled out for the man to stop.

 

Without even turning back to look at them, the abductor merely dug his heels into his poor beast's flanks. He had no intentions of either stopping or of giving her up.

 

William was not deterred. Once more he yelled for the man to stop. This time he added, "If you don't stop, you'll be killed."

 

Adam was startled. As complete as his own hatred was toward this man who had so abused his wife, he did not want him killed. They needed him. Adam was almost certain Ashburnham had ordered Emma's abduction, and they needed proof of that man's depravity.

 

William was likely trying to scare the man. Adam must defer to William in this situation. William had vast experience dealing with unscrupulous men. Ashburnham was the only unscrupulous man Adam had ever met face to face.

 

William's actions were so quick, Adam had no time to react. William's hand slid to the sheath in his boot and in one fluid move hurled a silvery knife toward the man's shoulder.

 

Adam exhaled. William only meant to disable the man—not kill him.

 

The man cursed. William's plan must have worked because the man started to release Emma.

 

Adam raced to the side where her head dangled. He meant to catch her before she was slung to the ground.

 

Then a peculiar thing happened. The horse stopped.

 

The man who’d terrorized Adam’s wife slumped and fell to the ground.

 

"Emma," Adam said, "I'm here. Allow me to get you." He dismounted and lifted her away. When he saw the blood on her dress, he panicked.

 

Then he realized it was her abductor's blood.

 

He needed to get her warm. He needed to cut the rope from her wrists. But at this moment what he needed most was to take her little body in his arms and hold her.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 18

 

 

 

 

The temperatures neared freezing and the night's darkness had not fully lifted, but for a brief moment Emma felt as if she were in a sunny field of summer wildflowers. That's how being held in Adam's arms made her feel. That and so much more. Elation. Relief. Security. And overwhelming love.

 

She could almost forget her wretched discomfort.

 

She need not worry for herself, not when Adam was there. He was so supremely good at taking care of her.

 

He stood her up and stepped back, his gaze utterly solemn when their eyes met. Without saying a word, he removed his own huge coat and placed it over her shoulders. It came past her bare feet and dragged on the ground.

 

"I can't take your coat," she protested. She felt badly, too, that because of her, his coat was dirtied.

 

"You will." He helped her put it on and began to fasten it.

 

"But you'll freeze."

 

"You're the one who's exposed," he said gruffly. "Your teeth are chattering, and your skin's icy."

 

The coat felt so good. She was far too cold to argue.

 

He lifted her into his arms and attempted to tuck the coat around her chilled feet. "I wish I could offer you a warm fire."

 

"I do, too."

 

Though the coat helped—as did being so close to him—it would take far more than that before she could completely thaw. Now that she was less uncomfortable, she thought to see what was going on with that odious man with the eye patch.

 

She turned her head. At first all she saw was Nick towering over the other two men. William was on one knee, and her abductor was lying on the ground.

 

"My God, I think he's dead," William said. "I only meant to slow him, make him give Emma up. My knife struck his shoulder. That shouldn't be a mortal wound."

 

Nick shook his head slowly. "Unless he's a bleeder."

 

Huge amounts of blood oozed from the fallen man and pooled on the ground.

 

Throughout the nearly unbearable hours in the man's captivity, Emma had (most uncharitably) thought of how much she hated him, how much she wished something terrible would befall him. But she took no consolation now that something terrible had taken his life.