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“We’re bloody late.” the scruffier one said.
“Shut your mouth,” muttered the other. “I should never have asked you to aid me.”
“Let’s see if she’s inside.”
Turning sharply, Oliver followed them into the shadowy confines of the entrance hall to the building. The two men paused, splitting up to peer into the taproom and the lady’s waiting room.
“She’s not here. It’s your fault,” the driver muttered.
“Ask around for a lady. Pretend you’re her driver,” the smarter one said.
These were the men, he had no doubt about it. He stepped swiftly in front of them before they could move into the taproom.
Arms folded, Oliver nodded toward the door. “I suggest you turn around, gentlemen. You won’t be taking anyone today.”
The driver scowled and looked to his companion. “What the bloody hell...?”
“I’m aware of your plan.” Oliver took a step closer and drew himself to his full height. Both men stood almost a head shorter than himself, but he spied bruised knuckles upon one and the other pressed a hand into his jacket.
Braced for him to withdraw a weapon, Oliver kept a close eye upon that hand. They had him at a disadvantage, but he’d be damned if he’d let them near Demeter. “Depart,” he told them, “or I’ll bring the watchman and have you arrested for attempted kidnapping.”
The more finely dressed man smirked. “Attempted kidnapping? We’re just here for a drink, old chap. Now move aside.”
Oliver narrowed his gaze at the man. He recognized him vaguely but could not place him. Whoever Caroline had hired, he had no doubt she’d preyed on yet another greedy man down on his luck, just like Hampton. He widened his stance but unfolded his arms.
“I’m going nowhere,” Oliver vowed.
The two men shared a look and made their move together, both lunging for him. A blade glinted in the sunlight streaming through the door window, and he ducked the first swipe of it, then the next jab. The scruffy driver used Oliver’s distraction to his advantage and slammed a fist into his gut, propelling the breath from his lungs.
Oliver gulped down uncomfortable inhalations and dodged another stab of the dagger, nearly slamming into stair railings, then responding with a punch to the man’s nose. A wild yell escaped his opponent, and he staggered back several steps, while his driver caught Oliver on the jaw, making sparks appear in front of his eyes.
Righting himself, Oliver blinked several times, and lifted his fists. Clearly an experienced fighter, the man ducked and weaved Oliver’s blows, getting another hit in before Oliver came back with several strikes.
Vaguely aware of punches slipping past his defense, he slammed a fist into the man’s gut, forcing him double. Before he could turn around, the smartly-dressed man came at him from the side and Oliver felt the blow—a strong punch to the gut. It was only when he caught sight of the blood-stained blade did he realize it wasn’t a punch but a stab of the knife.
“We need to get the girl,” his attacker shouted to the other man, who remained bent double.
Whirling upon him, Oliver lunged for the man, knocked the blade from his hand and slammed him to the floor. Eyes wide, the man scarcely managed to raise his fists before Oliver rendered enough blows to knock the man senseless.
Oliver gulped down painful breaths and felt warmth trickle down his side. He tried to push up to standing but the pain forced him to one knee. The driver spared him a quick look, then looked past him, out of one of the windows. A smug smile moved across the man’s lips and Oliver’s heart dropped to his toes.
Demeter was here.
Oliver weakly blocked a kick to his side, the man’s boot grazing him enough to cause another sharp stab of pain to charge through him. While he concentrated on taking his next inhale, the man ran out of the front door.
Teeth gritted, Oliver forced himself up onto both knees, wincing and staggering to his feet. Stab wound or not, there was no chance he was letting Eleanor down. He’d die first.
Just hopefully not until Demeter was safe.
Chapter Twenty-One
Relief swept through Eleanor when she spotted Demeter making her way across the cobbled courtyard of the coaching inn. Demeter paused upon spotting her, then hastened forward.
“Whatever are you doing here?” she demanded as Eleanor dismounted. “And alone?”
“I came to find you.” Eleanor drew in a deep breath and bent double for a moment to gulp down another. Her thighs trembled and her hands felt as though they were going to be forever formed into the shape of claws after having clenched the reins so tightly. Finally, she straightened. “Did you see Oliver?”
“Oliver?” Demeter’s frown deepened. “Why would I see Oliver?”
