The Vanishing Thief(36)

I started to dash down the sidewalk, but strong arms grabbed me around the middle, wrapping my cloak tightly around me. I kicked out and hit my pursuer by driving the back of my head into his nose. He let go and I ran. Behind me, I heard grunts and thuds, wood against metal, wood against bone.

I glanced back to see the duke thrash one figure with his cane. As my other attacker rose from the ground, he was pummeled down again. I’d have to pass the fight to return to the safety of Lady Westover’s. Too dangerous. I rushed away from the fracas.

Horses whinnied and coach wheels creaked, but no footsteps pursued me. I slowed my pace to a brisk walk, staying as far from the street as I could as I approached the corner. Looking over my shoulder, I saw two figures prone on the ground behind me and a large carriage with four horses nearly at my side.

“Miss Fenchurch.”

I picked up speed. So did the horses, pulling past me.

The duke’s familiar baritone came from the coach. “Wait, Miss Fenchurch. I’m trying to rescue you.”

“I don’t appear to need rescuing.” I held up my skirt to step over a gap in the sidewalk, planning to hurry away from both my attackers and the duke’s coach. Despite the duke’s dispatch of the two thugs, I feared he was involved in the attack. His appearance was too fortuitous.

“Very well, then.” The Duke of Blackford tapped on the roof of his high, ancient carriage and it began to pull away from me.

I looked back at the figures who were on their feet and limping in my direction. “Wait,” I called after the coach.

Immediately the horses were reined in again.

I rushed to the side of the carriage as the two men started in my direction. “Could you drive me to a safer location?”

“Of course.” The door bearing the ducal crest opened and I was faced with a daunting set of narrow steps lowered to allow me to climb the great height to enter the coach.

“My goodness. How do you climb in and out of this vehicle?”

“By using the steps. Of course, I wear trousers and am taller than you. I have it, John,” he called to his footman, who had made a move to climb down and assist me.

Shaking my head at his literalness, I bunched up my skirts so I could reach one foot up to the bottom step. With satin fabric in one hand and the other gripping the handrail, I hauled myself upward.

When I reached the third step, the duke grabbed me by the waist. Since I was looking over my shoulder to see where my attackers were, I was startled to feel his hands inside my cloak and the smooth wool of his coat sleeves on my bare arms. My evening shoe slipped and my hand slid on the grip. The duke pulled me upward, off balance, into his carriage.

He barked a command and the carriage sprang into motion. I tumbled onto one of the seats. The duke had to grab a strap hanging from the carriage roof to keep from landing in my lap. Once he regained his balance, he pulled up the steps with one motion and shut the door. I tugged my ripped skirt around me modestly and looked out the window. My attackers were no longer in sight.

The duke sat down across from me and crossed his legs. “Do you have a lot of enemies, Miss Fenchurch?”

I doubted those men could have been hired by my parents’ killer. He wouldn’t know I’d seen him lately. I rose slightly to adjust my cloak and settled onto the leather seat. It was as hard as a board. “No. This rarely happens unless I’m disguised as a harlot.”

His eyes widened.

My comment wasn’t true; I didn’t dress like a harlot. But any man with the effrontery to ask if a lady is a virgin shouldn’t be shocked by what she tells him. I gave him a hard look. “So which member of your club has kidnapped Nicholas Drake and wants to stop me from finding him?”

He threw his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “It wasn’t me. I rescued you.”

“Which could have been a clever way of throwing suspicion away from Your Grace.”

“I’m not that clever. But I will save the idea for the next time I’m in a sticky business negotiation, if you don’t mind. Rescuing a foreign competitor would make me appear less threatening.” In the light of a passing street lamp, I saw him smile.

“So why did you come back here?”

“I saw those two men loitering when we left. I wanted to see what they were after.”

“Me.”

“As it turns out. Where can I take you?”

“Somewhere where I can engage a hansom cab.”

He made a tsking noise. “What’s your address? You can pretend this is a hansom.”

“I’d rather you not know.”

“Still believe I could have set you up for injury?” He shook his head. “Not my style, I’m afraid. I use pounds and pence to inflict my injuries. And my combatants don’t get up again.”