The Lady And The Outlaw. Deloras Scott

to get the driver’s attention. It took several tries before she was successful. “Holbert,” she called, when the man on the box finally slid the trap open, “take the coach to the trees! We’re being followed at close chase!”

      As soon as the team and coach were well hidden, the driver quickly placed scarfs over the team’s muzzles to keep them from nickering. Then, everyone waited.

      Less than five minutes passed before all heard the cadence of hooves pounding against the earth. Ann could make out only the shadows of riders as they passed, and Matthew was surely one of them.

      She let out her held breath. What was she going to do now? After the riders had gone so far without catching the conveyance, they would circle back. Suddenly she remembered an old road that hadn’t been traveled in years. When she and Edmund were first married, she’d used it for her morning rides, knowing he wouldn’t find her. Ann glanced at the sky. It was clearing. Once past the trees, there would be enough moonlight to see by.

      Ann quickly informed Holbert of the road and how to reach it. The driver had already proven well worth his fee. Knowing there was nothing more she could do, she settled against the back of the cushy seat. The clouds were clearing too quickly. Was the storm passing? If so, they would never make it back to Bath in time to catch the Dolphin that would have taken them around the cape to San Francisco. She had waited too long to fetch Hester.

      But if the ship had sailed by the time they reached the docks, she would be forced to procure another passage to America. The corners of Ann’s lips curved upward. She had thwarted Matthew and for the moment she was justly proud of her victory.

      “How do ye know it was Matthew who murdered ‘Is Grace?” Hester asked, but with considerably less haughtiness.

      “I saw him do it,” Ann lied. Hester would never know the truth.

      “But you told everyone-”

      “I said what had to be said at the time.”

      “Milady, why are you protectin’ me?”

      “Because of the child you carry. I intend to raise Edmund’s bastard as my own.” Letting Edmund and everyone else think she was pregnant had proven to be more of a blessing than she had realized. She did, however, feel guilty about keeping the secret from her father. But only by claiming Richard as her own could she secure the title. “You’ll have until we reach Bath to decide if you are agreeable. If so, we will sail to the colonies, where I will see that you are financially secure.”

      Hester had always wanted to go to the colonies. “What if it’s a girl?”

      “Huntington men sire sons. But should it be a girl, you will still be taken care of.” Ann had already concluded that if she had to, she would secretly obtain a boy from an orphanage in the colonies.

      They had finally reached the old road. The bumpy road would make traveling even more uncomfortable, but there had been no alternative. Inside the dark conveyance, Ann could feel the abigail staring at her.

      Hester sat quietly, absorbing what the duchess had said. It wasn’t uncommon for a barren family to raise a bastard child. The duke’s death had put an end to all her planning and scheming. Now she’d never be the lady of the castle. Who would have thought His Grace would die at such an early age?

      Hester took a deep breath. Since Edmund’s departure, she hadn’t cared what happened to the brat she carried. But with the duchess now wanting to raise the child as her own, all sorts of possibilities could open up for her. From now on she’d bide her time and do whatever Her Grace wanted. “I ain’t gotta think on it, Your Grace. I’m willing to go with you. Richard will be your son.”

      Ann rested her head on the back of the seat. For now, the Huntington line would remain intact. Only good could come from her decision to become Richard’s protector. Besides, the commitment had been made and she no longer had the option of changing her mind. From here on, she must do whatever it took to see that Edmund’s son became the next duke of Gravenworth.

       Chapter Two

       New York, March 1876

      Her hands cradling her protruding stomach, Hester continued to pace the creaking floor. Time was running out. Soon she would be giving birth. Who would help her? There was no midwife and she had already determined that the duchess knew nothing of such matters.

      Unfortunately, even as near as her time was, Hester knew that they had to get on with their journey. Had they not missed the Dolphin, they wouldn’t be stranded in New York. But they had missed the Dolphin’s sailing, and consequently Her Ladyship had booked passage on the next available ship leaving for the colonies. The duchess had reasoned that the colonies were far too small a landmass to be concerned about where they docked.

      Hester rubbed her stomach. The baby had kicked. Good fortune had not deserted her. Having the duke’s son was going to give her more power than she had ever dreamed of. The ocean voyage had provided ample time for planning her future.

      When they arrived at Beau Falkner’s ranch, Hester Potter would declare herself as being the duchess of Gravenworth.

      Hester smiled and resumed her pacing. While aboard ship, she had waited hand and foot on her seasick mistress to gain her confidence. The single piece of information that had started her thinking about switching places had been the discovery that Beau Falkner had never met his cousin. Bored, and with a minimal amount of coaxing, Her Grace had spent hours talking of her past and willingly answering questions. Hester now knew everything about the duchess, including her life at Seaborne.

      Hester’s chest swelled with pride. She hadn’t been foolish enough to think that was enough to get her what she wanted. Speech and mannerisms were also important. So she had listened carefully to the way Her Grace talked. Then, when off by herself, she had practiced diligently until she could talk with the same sophistication as her mistress and move about with equal grace. Very soon, all her hard-earned efforts were going to put gold in her pocket.

      Undoubtedly the duchess’s father or uncle had already sent a message to their nephew informing him of Ann’s arrival and that she was with child. Though they had different shades of hair, she and milady were both blondes. Yes, she praised herself, she had planned well and was quite prepared to make the transition.

      Hester laughed, already anticipating playing the part of a duchess. Of course, she would have to make sure Antoinette Huntington never reached her cousin’s ranch.

      Hester looked out the window. Snow was starting to fall, but it didn’t matter. Knowing she would soon be treated with dignity gave her the strength to tolerate anything. When money arrived from England, she’d be rich. Then she’d stick the brat in an orphanage and go her own way.

      The door suddenly flew open and Ann waltzed in. The bellboys trailed behind, each with his arms loaded with boxes. The duchess had been shopping again. Hadn’t she already purchased enough clothes for a dozen women?

      “Oh, Your Grace,” Hester said with mock sweetness as soon as the door had closed, “1 can’t wait to see what you’ve purchased.”

      Ann removed her wool cloak. Her hat and veil followed. Rubbing her arms to rid the lingering cold, she smiled fondly at Hester. Poor woman, Ann thought. How could she move about with such agility while having so heavy a burden? She pointed at two of the boxes. “Those are for you.”

      Hester tried to act excited about receiving the gifts. “Did you find a wet nurse?” she asked as she untied the ribbons. She pulled a hat from the box but didn’t bother putting it on.

      Ann frowned. “No. In England it wouldn’t have presented a problem. They’re everywhere. America is so confoundedly uncivilized. Here women are actually expected to nurse their own children.”

      Hester plopped ungracefully onto the small space left on the bed. “We’re