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Her father, her uncles, they were now safe from him. His vengeance had been built upon his father’s death—a man whose life didn’t warrant such an honor. His vengeance had been built upon the need to salvage intact the empire that his father had built, when, in fact, he could let it crumble to pieces and leave the scavengers to take over.
He could walk away. He had five lifetimes’ worth of coin in legitimate investments. But there had never been a reason to walk away.
Until now.
It was time to tell her. Tell her he’d be done with this whole mess once they freed Eva and Torrie and everyone was safe.
But not in the middle of the village. Once they were away from the houses and in the privacy of the road, he’d tell her.
He smiled down at her, entranced by a sliver of early morning sun skating below the overcast clouds and sending a warm glow to her face. “We are ready. All is settled with the innkeeper and the horses look prime. You must have charmed the stable boy to get the sturdiest ones in the barn.”
She chuckled. “I did tell him we needed fast horses today after he first brought me a nag. How far are we from the village that was to be the meeting point for your men?”
“Three hours north. From there, my partner’s men should know where he and the women are.”
She nodded, a shadow crossing her face.
He couldn’t get them on the horses fast enough, for he needed to banish that shadow forever from her face.
She moved to unhitch her reins from the post and as he waited to help her mount her horse, he glanced out into the road at the sound of hooves coming into the edge of the village.
Shit.
Not now.
He had so much more to tell her. To prepare her for. To plan for.
Not fucking now.
He grabbed her arm, yanking her away from her horse’s reins.
A startled cry whipped from her lips as he picked her up, stalked to the left of his horse and threw her none too gently onto his saddle. “Get yourself settled.” His voice held pure malicious venom, loud and furious.
Brushing the errant locks that fell into her eyes at being manhandled, Victoria’s head snapped back, shock on her face as she stared down at him. “Rafe, my horse—"
“Shut up, wench—don’t make me tie you up again,” he growled, louder than his first comment.
“Tie me up?” she whispered, confusion crinkling her brow.
Without answering, he grabbed his reins and dragged himself up onto the saddle behind her, collapsing an arm around her waist and yanking her hard into his body. The collision of her hitting his chest sent a whoosh of air out of her chest.
She tried twisting in the saddle, eyes wide as she stared dumbstruck up at him.
“Well, well, fancy finding the elusive Lord Winfred here so close to his lordship.”
At the words, Rafe looked to his right at the four burly men plodding into the village. Cutthroats, each and every one of them, and not his men. The same men that had seized the carriage and stole Eva away.
Funny, though, there had been five of them before.
“Seymour.” Rafe inclined his head to them. “Good, I don’t have to find you in Warsop.”
The four men halted their horses, all of them staring at Victoria sitting in front of him. Luckily, both her legs were still hanging down the opposite side of the horse, so she was mostly turned away and had to crane her neck to look at them.
He shifted his horse slightly to the left, his upper arm shielding most of her body from view. The less they could see of her, the better. They were already salivating, lips licking at the sight of her.
She glanced back at them, then looked away, her body stiffening in his arms. Good. She recognized the inherent danger in this situation.
“What have ye here?” Wally, the leader of this particular sniveling pack, pointed to Victoria. “This the one ye picked up? I didn’t get a good look at her when we took the carriage.”
