Beguiled. Shannon Drake

a hand toward his pistol.

      “Don’t do it,” the first man warned softly. “No harm will come to you—or the lass.”

      Ally wondered if it was the word “lass,” coming from a man who had no idea of her accomplishments, that both irritated her and gave her such great courage. She was always dismissed as “the lass.” Everyone was always doing what they considered best for her. Her accomplishments were applauded, yet her future seemed to belong to everyone but her. Thanks to her privileged upbringing, she knew Latin, French and Italian, geography, history and literature. She could play the piano much more than competently, sing due to the tutelage of Madame D’Arpe, dance because of Monsieur Lonville, and ride as well as any woman living, she was certain, despite an effort to remain humble. She was also very aware that women were beginning to take their places in many previously forbidden arenas; helping to form society and, indeed, the world. She was going to make her mark on the world. Somehow.

      She was also the most guarded orphan in the empire, she was quite sure.

      “You’ll not touch that girl—” Shelby began angrily. But he did not finish. The highwayman had cracked the whip he carried, a long and lethal-looking thing that snapped through the air with the sharpness of a shot. The pistol Shelby had reached for went flying through the air as he cried out, not so much in pain as in surprise.

      “My dear fellow,” the highwayman said. “We’ve no wish to harm you or the girl. You’ll step down, please.”

      Stiff, angry, wary, Shelby did so. Ally heard a soft expulsion of breath, and when she looked, he was no longer standing. He had sunk easily to the ground, as if he had simply been so tired he had gone to sleep standing.

      She started to run toward him, crying out in alarm.

      She did not reach him. The highwayman caught her by the shoulders. When she kicked and fought and tried to bite him, he swore softly.

      “What is the matter with you, girl? You are playing with your life here.”

      “What have you done to him?”

      “He will awake soon enough, none the worse for wear,” he assured her.

      “What did you do to him? You’ve killed him!”

      “He isn’t dead, I assure you.”

      She tried again to bite the hand that held her. “This is ridiculous,” he hissed, and before she knew it, she was thrown over his shoulder and he was striding quickly off the open road and along a forest trail.

      What had she done?

      A trickle of fear slipped along her spine, despite her resolve.

      “If you think you’re going to slit my throat in the woods, you’ll be truly sorry,” she warned him. “They’ll come after you. You are already wanted for your crimes. They’ll revive public executions—indeed, they’ll bring back drawing and quartering. I’m warning you—”

      “You should start begging me,” he warned.

      “Where are you taking me?” she demanded. “You don’t even know who I am!”

      They had apparently reached his destination. She was quickly and unceremoniously set down on a tree stump next to a small stream through the woods. Oddly, the water bubbled melodiously. The sun was almost gone for the day, just disappearing into the horizon, so they were surrounded by pale glimmers through the canopy of the trees and the coming shadows of the night. He set a foot on the log and leaned close to her. “Seriously, lass, I don’t know who you are. Had you answered that question for me at the start, you might well be on your way again already.”

      “Don’t call me ‘lass.’”

      “I should be calling you an idiot.”

      “I? An idiot? Because I protest a wretched criminal who will surely end his days at the end of a rope?”

      “If I’m to hang, anyway, what would it matter if I were to add your body to the list of my trespasses?” he demanded.

      “You will hang,” she said icily.

      “Perhaps, but not today. Today, you will answer to me.”

      She fell silent, staring at him, once again forcing down any sense of fear. She would not go easily.

      She stared at him, eyes burning, head high. “You are young and able-bodied. You might have found legitimate work easily enough. Instead, you have chosen a life of crime.”

      He laughed softly, truly amused now. “Indeed, lass, of all the young women I have encountered, you are definitely the most brazen. Or the most stupid. I haven’t decided yet.”

      “I told you not to call me ‘lass.’”

      “You are a lass.”

      “Then you are nothing but a boy, playing at being a man.”

      He seemed to take no offense; indeed, he smiled slightly.

      “Have you a title, then?” he inquired.

      She stared at him coldly. “You may call me Miss.”

      “Miss. So who are you and where are—were—you going?”

      “Are you an idiot, that you don’t recognize a carriage belonging to the Earl of Carlyle?”

      She couldn’t tell whether he had recognized the carriage or not, for his next question was not an answer.

      “What are you doing in his carriage?”

      “I haven’t stolen it,” she retorted.

      “That is not an answer.”

      “It’s the only answer you’re getting.”

      He leaned closer. “But it is not the answer I am seeking.”

      “I’m ever so sorry.”

      “Pray, don’t be sorry—yet. Simply provide me with the information I seek.”

      “You are a bully and a thief. I owe you nothing.”

      “I am a highwayman. And your life and safekeeping are in my hands.”

      “Shoot me, then.”

      He shook his head, irritated. She lifted her chin. She was afraid, true, but she was oddly excited, as well. The blood was rushing through her veins. Ridiculous as it might seem, she felt up to the challenge.

      Strangely, she didn’t believe he would really harm her. There was something too…decent?…about his manner.

      Perhaps this was simply what she had wanted: something had finally happened in her life. She felt as if she were really living, perhaps for the first time. How sad if it were all about to end.

      He laughed aloud and the sound was easy and pleasant. “Let me start over. Dear mademoiselle, pray, please, tell me what you’re doing in the earl’s carriage?”

      “Obviously I am going to see the earl.”

      “Ah. You’re good friends, then?”

      “He is something of a godfather to me,” she explained.

      “Indeed?”

      “Yes, so you had best take care, lest you truly offend me.”

      “I’m afraid it matters not at all to me whom I offend.”

      “The earl will see you skewered through.”

      “The earl will have to catch me for that, don’t you think?”

      “Don’t underestimate him.”

      “I never would.”

      “Pray, tell, exactly what do you want from me? I’m afraid I’m not carrying any riches.”

      He was still smiling, and his foot continued