The Captain's Kidnapped Beauty. Mary Nichols
he was not the only one out early. A lady on a magnificent bay mare was galloping across the grass. She had a wonderful seat, at one with the horse, and was evidently enjoying the ride. He pulled up to watch her, wondering how long she could keep going before the animal decided he had had enough and threw her?
It was not the animal that forced her to pull up, but a horse and tumbril which suddenly appeared out of the trees as she was passing. Alex held his breath, expecting the worst, but she showed herself to be in full control of her mount. She pulled him up with a flurry of hooves and turned angrily on the man who had been driving the vehicle and who had jumped to the ground and taken hold of her bridle. She raised her crop and brought it down sharply on the man’s hand, but he did not let go. And then another ruffian appeared and came round to the other side of her and attempted to edge her and her mount towards the cart, making the mare shy. Alex decided it behoved him to intervene.
He was riding without a sword, but he always carried a pistol in a holster on his saddle and he drew it as he approached at a gallop. He dare not fire for fear of hitting her, but the arrival of a man brandishing a gun was enough for the two men; they scrambled into the cart and urged it into a gallop. It was when he turned to go back to the rider that he realised the lady was Miss Gilpin.
He dismounted and ran to where the pale-faced lady still sat on her horse, which was standing perfectly still now.
He reached out to her and she slid from the mare and into his arms. He held her while she regained her breath, which was coming in great gasps. ‘You are safe now,’ he murmured. He could feel her heart beating hard against his chest, making him realise just how frightened she had been. She wasn’t so mannish, after all. Her closeness, the way her body seemed to fit so snuggly into his, the scent of violets on her hair, was enough to send his senses reeling. It was years since he had held a woman like that and she was stirring passions in him which he had forgotten existed.
‘Thank you,’ she said when her breathing steadied and she drew away from him to look up at him. ‘I do not know what I would have done if you had not been on hand.’
He looked down into her face, uplifted to his. Her lips were slightly parted and he was inexplicably tempted to kiss her, but thrust the temptation from him. ‘I am glad that I was,’ he said, trying to control his ragged breath enough to answer her. ‘What did they want?’
‘I don’t know.’ She was calmer now, but still pale, still in his arms. Until she moved, he would not put her from him. ‘I have nothing on me worth taking, except my horse, of course. Do you suppose that was what they wanted? Amber is a valuable beast.’
‘Perhaps,’ he agreed, careful not to wonder aloud why they would bring a cart to steal a horse from someone still riding it, when it would have been easier to take it without a rider on its back. He felt sure it was the rider they were after. ‘It was foolish of you to ride out alone. Have you no escort?’
‘No. If any of the grooms come with me, they are so fearful for me, they stop me having a good gallop. Besides, at this time of day they are busy with all the other horses. I have never come to any harm.’
‘Until now,’ he said repressively.
‘I am not hurt.’
‘You might very well have been if I had not come along. I have no doubt you could command a fair sum in ransom …’
‘Ransom! Good heavens! Is that what you think?’
‘It is a possibility—more than a possibility, I should think.’ He paused, unwilling to frighten her more than she had been already, though she appeared to have recovered her poise remarkably quickly. ‘Do you feel able to ride home?’
‘Yes.’ She stepped away from him. ‘If you would be kind enough to help me mount.’
He fetched her horse and offered his cupped hands to lift her into the saddle and put her foot in the stirrup, and then mounted Pegasus, who had been patiently cropping the dry grass. ‘Let us go, then.’
‘Captain Carstairs,’ she said, gathering up her reins. ‘I would be obliged if you did not tell my father of this incident.’
They rode side by side at a gentle walk. ‘Naturally I shall say nothing if you do not wish it, but you ought to tell him about those men yourself so that he can take suitable precautions in future. I will not always be on hand to rescue you.’
‘No, I do not expect you to be. But if I tell Papa, he will have people guarding me all the time. He might even refuse to allow me to go to the works.’
‘And that is important to you?’
‘Very important, Captain. It is my life’s work.’
‘Oh, surely not. You must have other interests.’
‘Of course I do. The orphans, for one, and I enjoy gardening and reading.’
‘What do you like to read?’
‘Everything. Scientific books, books about manufacturing and new ideas …’
‘No novels? No poetry?’
She smiled. ‘Those, too. I do not think of myself as a blue stocking, Captain.’
‘Nevertheless, I want you to promise me you will not go out without an escort again.’
She looked sharply at him. ‘Why should I make promises to you, Captain Carstairs? I really cannot think why you expect me to do so.’
‘I know it is no business of mine what you do, but I should be sorry to think of you being abducted by the likes of those two. They would not treat you gently, you may be sure.’
‘How do you know so much about it?’
‘I have twice lately been engaged on kidnap cases for the Society. Desperate men do not hesitate to put an end to their victim’s life if their demands are not met, and even sometimes if they are, if they think she can identify them. I should hate that to happen to you.’
‘What was the outcome of your investigations, Captain?’ she asked. ‘Did you restore the victims to their families?’
He smiled, realising she was evading making the promise he asked for. ‘One was returned safely to her parents without the ransom being paid because the kidnappers were foiled. The other had not been abducted, but had run away to Gretna Green with a lover. I had the devil’s job to persuade her to go back home. The couple had been together for two or three days, so her father felt obliged to allow the marriage to go ahead.’
‘A happy ending, then.’
‘Who’s to know? Her father had his reasons for refusing his consent in the first place and perhaps he was right. Only time will tell.’
‘Are you always so cynical?’
‘Not cynical, Miss Gilpin, simply a realist.’
‘Then you do not think love lasts?’
‘I am sure genuine love does, but recognising it when it comes, that is the hard part.’
‘Oh, then you are a cynic.’
He was tired of her quizzing him, especially as she was getting very close to the bone, and decided to turn the tables. ‘Have you ever been in love, Miss Gilpin?’
‘Now that is a very personal question, but as you have been so kind as to rescue me and shown concern for my safety, I will answer you. No, I have never been in love, but I am sure I will recognise it when it comes.’
‘But you must have had many suitors.’
‘Money-grabbers, Captain, silly young fops who think my fortune will allow them to live in comfort without doing a hand’s turn to earn it. I shall not marry one of them. Papa has had to work hard to build up the business and I would not have all that wasted on a ne’er-do-well. Gilpin’s is far too important for that.’
He was silenced by this. Her father’s business meant more