The Fearless Miss Dinah by Laura Rollins
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Dinah sat in one of Charlotte’s carriages with her maid across from her. The dear woman had been willing to allow Dinah to borrow it for the trip back home. She’d even helped Dinah convince her father that she didn’t need an escort. She was a married woman now, traveling a short distance, with a driver, a footman, and her maid. Dinah didn’t need to ruin her father’s trip to the country over this.
More still, she appreciated the time to think and steel her resolve.
There was no saying what Henry’s response might be when she arrived. He might very well be even more cold toward her—if such were even possible. But if he was, then so be it. She would stay around, and she would remain open to the possibility of a better future with him. Eventually, he would realize she wasn’t going anywhere and that loving her in return was safe. If it took a year, so be it. If it took five years, she’d still be around. If it took until the day before she died, she wasn’t ever going to back down.
If Henry thought he could freeze her out of this relationship, he was sorely mistaken.
There was a cry of men and horses outside, and the carriage lurched to a stop. Her abigail screamed. Dinah’s hand shot out, and she braced herself against the opposite bench, barely able to prevent herself from toppling over completely. As the carriage settled, she sat up straight and righted her dress, her bonnet she’d discarded on the seat beside herself hours ago.
Dinah exchanged a questioning glance with her abigail. What on earth was going on outside? Had someone darted across the road? Images of a man or woman, lying across the dirt, hit by the horses of her own carriage, flitted across her mind. Or worse, what if it were a child?
Dinah placed her hand against the door and lifted the latch. But before she could open it completely, it flung open, and a man stood on the other side.
It took her mind a half-second to realize it wasn’t either the driver or the footman standing there.
It took her mind even less time than that to recognize his red hair and icy blue eyes.
He was a smuggler. One of the men who’d been there the night she’d saved Adele. The one she’d labeled Blue-Eyes, his eyes so shockingly close to white.
Dinah grabbed the maid by her wrist and pulled them both back, lunging for the door on the opposite side of the carriage. She shoved it open and leapt from the carriage. Large, hairy arms encircled her from behind.
Dinah screamed and stomped on the man’s foot. He hollered but held her all the tighter. Twisting and squirming, Dinah struggled to break free but to no avail. In the effort, she spotted no fewer than three other men, all with guns raised and pointed at her driver and footman. Her abigail was still sitting just inside the carriage, her eyes wide and frightened. They were outnumbered, surrounded, and on a deserted stretch of road.
“Come now, Lady Stanton,” Blue-Eyes said, circling around the carriage.
He knew her name. How had he learned her name?
“You left in such a hurry the other week, and then you didn’t even invite me to the wedding.”
Dinah reached out with a foot, determined to stomp on his foot as well, but Blue-Eyes only danced back a bit.
“Tut, tut.” Blue-Eyes shook his head. “Is this any way to address an old acquaintance?”
Dinah stopped struggling and faced Blue-Eyes directly. Several curls fell across her face, and she growled, “Why are you here?”
“After our little escapade a few weeks ago, I decided to do some digging. As it turns out, your new husband is looking for me.”
Dinah’s stomach dropped.
Blue-Eyes smiled at her, but there was no joy in it. “Too bad he didn’t know I was right there beside him the whole time.”
“You killed Mr. Jacobsen.”
“Yes, I did.” Blue-Eyes bowed as though she’d been praising him and he accepting it with faux-humility, “Most unfortunately for his wife and child, I understand.”
Anger burned through Dinah, igniting every muscle. She strained against the man holding her back. “You murdered Henry’s dearest friend!”
“I think we’ve established that.” Blue-Eyes spoke loudly over the sound of her struggling. “What remains to be established is what your husband is going to do when I tell him I have you.”
Dinah continued to scowl at the man, but inside her, a new conflict arose. The fact that this man had killed Mr. Jacobsen did not explain why he’d come for her.
Perhaps Blue-Eyes read her thoughts, or perhaps he just wanted to gloat a bit more. Either way, he answered before she even had to ask the question. “I cannot very well return to my chosen employment with Lord Stanton hunting me down. Neither would he settle the issue like gentlemen, ten paces at dawn and all that, not when he could simply show up with every blasted Bow Street Runner aiming guns at my head.” He took a step closer to Dinah. “But then I thought to myself, why smuggle when kidnapping would be much more fun? And will pull a greater profit, too. Even if your blasted husband won’t pay, I’m guessing your father will.”
Dinah spat across his face.
The smile thereon died immediately. His icy eyes grew murderous as he slowly wiped the spittle off his face with his sleeve. He glanced past her, motioning to his men to saddle up.
“Come, Lady Stanton,” he said slowly, taking hold of her arm. “It is time we find out just how much your husband loves you after all.”