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Lady Perdie scoffed. She lifted her chin in a way he recognized well from the exchange he’d witnessed. She would sooner whack him over the head than relinquish the pistol to him. “Thank you for your concern, but we do have someone to take charge of the pistol. Me.”
With the pistol aimed loosely at the ground near his shoe, perhaps it was not the time to argue with her. It was certainly not the time for Lionel to decide to tramp out from behind the thicket, much like cattle in a stampede. The lady’s hand twitched, moving the pistol’s aim to the vicinity of his thigh.
He cleared his throat. “Forgive me, lass, but do you know how to shoot?”
Lionel scampered closer. He blushed furiously as the ladies assessed him before turning away dismissively. They should know better than to dismiss a threat out of hand based on his stature or appearance; Lady Perdie herself had just proved that appearances could be deceiving in that regard.
“As it so happens, I do know how to shoot.”
She might, at that. In case she was bluffing, he added, “Then you’ll know the danger of an improperly stored pistol. The slightest jostle of the carriage could set off one like that.” He nodded to the piece. Again, he held out his hand. “I’ll remove the shot, if you’ll hand it to me.”
“I’ll remove it myself.”
Thunder rumbled in the distance. A net of dark clouds cut off the meager sunlight.
Damn it to hell. They had at least three more hours on the road before reaching an inn, and the blasted highwaymen that ran away could be awaiting them ahead with more people. And he was arguing with her over the care and storage of a pistol.
He fought the urge to rub his temple.
When Lady Perdie turned to assess the sky, her mouth pinched. “If you’ll excuse us, we really must be going.” She didn’t await an answer, but shooed her companion, Miss Felicity, toward the open carriage door.
To his astonishment, the maidservant climbed up to the driver’s seat and took up the whip.
“Your maidservant is driving the carriage?”
Lady Perdie rose an arrogant brow. “She is. She’s a deft hand. When it suits me, I also drive.”
“You three ladies are truly traveling alone,” Thaddeus said, scrubbing a hand over his face. Perhaps he should never have come to investigate the clamor. Now he had no choice but to change his travel plans. Country roads could be treacherous for a man on his own, for a lady it would be a bloody nightmare. What was the lass thinking to travel alone? What kind of desperate situation must she have encountered?
“Upon my honor, I cannot leave you unaccompanied.”
Her lush lips curved in a slightly mocking smile. “Do not mistake us for weaklings because we are women, my good sir.”
“I mean no offense, my lady.” He bowed. “I am Thaddeus, and this is my man, Lionel. It would be my privilege if you will allow me to accompany you to your destination. The roads ahead are lonely, and they have already proven dangerous.”
Her eyes flashed with an emotion he could not decipher. “I suppose if you saw three gentlemen traveling in a carriage, you would offer the same assistance?”
Thaddeus hesitated. “I would not.” Surely she could see that the situation was not the same.
She glanced back at the carriage, and the young lady who peeked through the carriage windows shook her head, as if warning the lass away from his offer.
Lady Perdie faced him. “We thank you for the offer, but we have no need of your assistance. We will be on our way.” With those last, clipped words, she whirled away to climb into the carriage. The lift of her legs exposed buckskin breeches beneath her dress.
The carriage door closed with a decisive snick. With a gentle crack of the whip and cluck of the tongue, the maidservant goaded the horses into motion. Thaddeus stepped back to keep from being run down. The closed carriage, black, had no crest to identify the family to whom it belonged. No footmen in livery. Not even a monogrammed handkerchief fluttering in the wind. Lady Perdie and her companions intended to hide their identities. As the carriage grew smaller rumbling over the rutted road, Thaddeus wrestled with his conscience. Everything in him urged him to turn on his heel and retrieve the stallion he had left drinking from a brook a quarter of a mile away.
“Are we continuing on to London, Yer Lordship?” Lionel asked, though he too stared after the carriage as it rocked over the rutted and uneven country road.
Thaddeus made his decision in an instant. “No. We will follow the ladies at a discreet distance and offer our assistance if it proves necessary.” He turned away with impatience. He was a bleeding madman. His business was in London, where a solicitor and his aunt by marriage eagerly awaited his long-overdue presence.
This Lady Perdie clearly did not need his help, but his scalp was tingling with a what-if…and the memory of those bounders with the shovel and pistol.
“Ye will have no suitable clothes, Yer Lordship.” Lionel kept pace easily as they hurried to the horses. “The carriage with all your valises is hours before us heading to London by now.”
That…would be an inconvenience. But Thaddeus knew himself well enough to know he wasn’t going to let a lack of proper gentleman’s attire keep him from doing the right thing. He wouldn’t be able to sleep, otherwise.
He had six sisters. If he were ever daft enough to let them travel without proper protection, he would hope some honorable gentleman would think to do exactly what he was doing now.
“Upon reaching the inn, try to find some ordinary clothes to purchase. Fresh trousers and linen shirts and under-linen will do,” Thaddeus said. He picked up his pace, ignoring his young companion’s muttered groans and complaints.
