“Eugénie, no.”
She heard Wivenly bellow as she pierced the man’s armpit with the pin.
The blackguard roared and reached out for her, but other hands pulled her away. People started filling the street and the thug fled, pushing men out of his way.
Her heart thudded as if it would escape the confines of her chest, and the roaring in her ears deafened her. A wave of nausea gripped her, and she started to topple, but strong arms held her up and the familiar scent of an unknown spice calmed her fear.
Wivenly.
“I’ve got you.” His voice was gentle and calm. “You’ll be all right.”
She nodded against his strong chest, wanting to burrow into his warmth, wanting to feel safe again.
“You’re much too quiet.” He picked her up. “That can’t be good.”
She glanced up. His cravat had blood on it. “You’re hurt.”
“Not much,” Wivenly replied smugly. “He got my eye, but I broke his nose.”
Eugénie threw her arm around his neck, hoisting herself up a little to see the damage. If she could concentrate on him, perhaps she wouldn’t have to think about what had happened. “That is going to need a beefsteak.”
He grinned down at her. “Probably.”
They’d reached the Whitecliffs’ gate. “Take me to Cicely. I do not want Maman worrying.”
“Very well.” Wivenly furrowed his brow, then winced. “But we must tell her about this at some point.”
Eugénie didn’t want to tell Maman at all. It would worry her too much. Yet she was not so stupid as to believe that the man, or another, would not try again. And the neighbors would certainly say something to Maman or the servants. “We may discuss it after your eye is taken care of.”
“Will, what the—” Andrew, stood on the stairs, glancing from her to Wivenly before opening the garden door. “You’re going to have a nice bullace.”
She wondered what Andrew was not saying. “Yes, but he broke the brute’s nose.”
“That doesn’t surprise me in the least.” He laughed. “Will’s extremely handy with his fives.”
“Oh no.” Cicely’s hand went to her lips. “Look at you. What happened? Was that you I heard screaming?”
Really, Wivenly’s eye wasn’t that bad. “He will be fine. We just need a beefsteak.”
“No, it’s you!”
For the first time, Eugénie glanced down. Her skirt had blood on it. Warm air hit her arm where her sleeve hung half off. “I am well. I felt a little faint, so Wivenly carried me.”
Andrew put his arm around his betrothed. “Come, my love. Let’s get them inside.” He slid Wivenly a stern look. “Then they’ll tell us what happened.”
“Wait a moment.” Cicely pointed to some shrubs beside the stairs. “What is this doing here?”
A large bouquet of pink roses lay in the top of a bush.
Wivenly shifted her in his arms and picked up the flowers, handing them to Eugénie. “These are for you. I’d just come from Mrs. Rordan’s house when I saw you being abducted.”
They were a little battered, but not much. She buried her nose in them, taking in the sweet scent. “Thank you. They are lovely.”
What would have happened if he’d waited until morning to visit her again didn’t bear thinking of. If only he could be like this all the time.
Hervé swirled the fine cognac in the glass as he stared out over the peninsula that made up one side of the harbor. He was bored and tired of waiting for Yves to bring him Eugénie. Yet it was not easy kidnapping a young woman who didn’t seem to go anywhere but to the house across the step street and was never left alone when she did. Even watching her movements and those of her neighbors was not easy. There was no place to conceal oneself for any length of time, and lately there was the added irritant of a young gentleman who appeared to be courting her. Hervé took a sip, savoring the burn of the wine as it slid down his throat.
Yves strode swiftly into the room, came to a halt, and shook his head. “We would have had her but for that young man who saw Adao snatch her.”
