Page 16 of A Lady Most Wayward (The Queen’s Deadly Damsels #5)

‘No. It’s whiskey. It will fortify your nerves.’

Olivia took a small sip, swallowed, and sucked in a harsh breath. ‘Or knock me out cold,’ she wheezed before taking a second nip. ‘No wonder you’ve nerves of steel.’

‘I’m sorry. Was that a compliment?’ Philippa couldn’t stop the spark of humour from flashing in her eyes.

Olivia turned away from Philippa, carefully screwing the cap back on the flask. ‘What should we do about them?’ She nodded at the coachman.

With the men outweighing both women by at least ten stone each, there wasn’t much they could do.

Olivia wrestled the coachman out of his jacket, carefully placing it over his face to preserve a modicum of dignity.

Philippa did the same for the highwayman, being careful to search his pockets for any clues before draping his much filthier coat over the upper half of his body.

‘What’s this?’ Philippa found a purse of gold coins in one pocket. In the other was a folded note. The wax seal on the note had broken, and only half remained.

The body of a wolf. The tail of a snake.

‘Damnation.’ She didn’t need to see the rest of the seal to know the identity of the sender.

The Devil’s Sons used a unique seal incorporating the body of a wolf, the tail of a snake, and the head of a crow.

The same animals symbolised their leaders.

Only now, the Crow was all that remained of the triad.

Opening the missive, she scanned the instructions written with a neat hand. ‘How well do you ride, Olivia?’

Olivia looked up from where she knelt next to the coachman.

Was she saying a prayer over the man?

Tears shone in her eyes as she sniffed, then turned to look at the horse. Her throat contracted, distracting Philippa. She had pressed her mouth just there, and licked the hollow, tasting the salt and spice of Olivia. More intoxicating than the strongest dram of whiskey.

Hardly the time! But…

‘Percival never wanted me to ride. He said he worried about my safety, but I think it was the expense that frightened him. Or the independence.’

‘Well, you’re going to learn to ride today.

We must make haste.’ Philippa walked over to Olivia and extended her hand, helping her to rise.

She handed her the note. ‘These were not highwaymen. They were hired to find us. And if he knows where we are heading, then he likely knows where Hyacinth is hiding.’

Olivia’s eyes widened as her gaze flew over the damning words.

Find the women on the Devon road south to Cornwall. Kill them, then go to Charlestown Port and collect the girl. You’ll receive your final payment on delivery.

The Crow

‘No, no, no! He can’t possibly! How can he know she’s there?

’ Olivia looked up to Philippa, her pupils blown wide with fear, her face pale.

‘We must leave. Now. We have to get there first. We must.’ A tear tracked down her face, streaking over the dried cut just below her cheekbone. Philippa’s heart squeezed tighter.

Without thought, she pulled Olivia into a tight hug, holding her trembling body against hers. ‘We will. I swear it.’

What the bloody hell is wrong with me? She’s my enemy. I am sworn to hold her accountable for her crimes. Not hold her in my arms to promise all will be well.

But something about Olivia’s desperation awakened Philippa’s need to protect. It was a response as instinctual as breathing. Something she had never been allowed to do for Liza.

Liza. Dear God, what am I doing?

The memory hit her hard and unbidden. The week after Edward told his father of Philippa’s affair with Liza, she had snuck out of her house, determined to see her love. To convince her to do the impossible and endure whatever trials lay ahead so they could find their forever.

Philippa had climbed the rose trellis outside Liza’s room. It was a journey she had made countless times from when she was eleven until now, at twenty. First as girls to giggle over silly confidences, then as women to protect far more serious secrets.

Liza was at her writing desk. Her hair tumbled around her. Face puffy and red from crying. She had been beautiful even as she raged.

‘I will not marry! I don’t care what Father threatens to do. I would rather rot in an asylum than be forced to suffer a moment in the arms of the viscount. He’s nearly as old as Father.’

‘Then let us run away together. I have saved my pin money. We can leave tonight and start somewhere new. Where no one knows us.’ Philippa was desperate.

Tears flowed down her cheeks as she lurched across the room and sank down on her knees in front of Liza.

She gripped her pale hands and squeezed, willing her stubborn love to listen for once.

‘And how do you propose we live with no money? No connections? No men to provide for us? No protection.’

‘I will protect us. I will teach myself how to keep us safe, darling.’

‘It’s impossible, Phil.’

‘Living without you is impossible. I love you, Liza. I will love you forever, whether we are together or apart, but I can’t let you go to bedlam. I won’t allow it.’

Liza smiled, her face a heartbreaking contrast of love and fear, acceptance of the inevitable and seething rebellion. ‘You don’t have a choice, Phil. Neither of us does. This is the only option for me.’

Philippa rose up, framing Liza’s face between her shaking hands. ‘There is always a choice. I will find a way to rescue you, Liza. I will make my fortune and get you out of there. I swear it. We will be together again. On my life, I promise you this.’

But she hadn’t kept her promise. And Liza died alone in the asylum.

I failed Liza, and now I’m betraying her.

But how can I turn away from Olivia when she needs my help?

Her situation was impossible. And lest she forget, three men had just died.

Two at her hand. Olivia’s daughter was being threatened by the Crow and might be in immediate danger.

They were stranded on a deserted road, and the sky looked ominous.

Philippa didn’t have time to drown in past, present, or future regrets.

Releasing Olivia, she ignored the maelstrom in her mind and focused on the task at hand. She could complete this plan. She could protect Olivia and her daughter. She must. ‘Come. There’s much to be done.’

The next fifteen minutes were a flurry of unhitching the horses, packing what foodstuff they could find and the two flasks of water they’d brought with them into the coachman’s leather satchel, and determining their location from the map the coachman kept in the front pocket of his bag.

‘We can cut our journey down by several days if we take the coastline road here. It’s far too difficult terrain for a carriage, but by horseback, we should be fine.

If we ride hard, we’ll get to Charlestown Port in three days.

Four at the most.’ Philippa kept her focus on the map, refusing to notice the sweet floral notes of Olivia’s perfume or the way her cheeks turned from pale pink to deep rose in the cooling air.

‘Put on your cloak. It will be much colder travelling this way.’

Olivia followed Philippa’s orders, but when it came time to mount the smaller bay Philippa determined would be a better fit for Olivia, the woman pressed her lips together in a firm line and shook her head.

‘I can’t.’ Olivia’s eyes were wide as she stared at the horse the way many might stare down the barrel of a cannon.

‘Don’t be silly. It’s just a horse. You simply sit on its back and squeeze your thighs tight.

’ The horse still wore part of the harness from the carriage, giving Olivia something to hold on to, though it would be almost impossible to guide the horse’s head.

Philippa planned to lead, using her legs to direct her slightly larger bay and trusting Olivia’s mount to follow them.

‘No. You will sit on its back and squeeze your thighs. I will sit behind you and hold on for my bloody life.’

Philippa frowned. Olivia’s pleasantly low voice had become shrill. ‘We’ve no time to waste, Olivia. Your daughter’s life depends on our haste.’

‘Exactly. So we should stop arguing.’

Philippa huffed out a sigh. ‘You really don’t think you can ride on your own?’

Olivia looked at the horse, then Philippa, then back at the bay. ‘I know I can’t. You must ride with me. It’s the only way.’

‘We’ll lose time by riding together. One horse carrying two people can’t travel as quickly as two horses carrying one person each.’

‘But it can travel a damn sight faster than one horse dragging someone behind them. We can take both mounts and change frequently so they can each rest.’ It was the tears shining in Olivia’s eyes as she stared at the large animal that dismantled Philippa’s arguments.

Olivia didn’t cry, but the tears hovered there, making her green eyes burn even brighter in the autumn light. Somehow, that was more heartbreaking than if she had been sobbing.

Tsking, Philippa rolled her own eyes. ‘Fine. We can ride together. But this is ridiculous. When this is all over, you need to take riding lessons.’

Olivia sniffed. ‘When this is all over, you’re sending me to Newgate prison or hell, so I shall hardly need to worry about riding down Rotten Row, will I?’

Philippa’s heart squeezed again. It was shockingly painful. She instinctively rubbed her hand just above her left breast.

Stokes is right. I’m getting old. This must be some form of indigestion. Or perhaps it’s the beginning stages of angina.

‘Come on, then.’ She hardened her voice and walked to the larger horse, linking her fingers together to make a cradle for Olivia’s boot.

‘Put your foot here and I’ll boost you up.

’ She most certainly did not inhale deeply, trapping Olivia’s scent in her lungs, as the beautiful woman put one hand on Philippa’s shoulder.

She awkwardly pulled back her skirts to fit her foot into Philippa’s hands and then put her free hand on the horse’s flank.

Philippa also did not admire the delicate curve of Olivia’s calf meeting her slim ankle or feel a rush of heat through her body as she imagined running her finger up Olivia’s shapely leg to test the texture of her inner thigh.

That would have been completely untoward.

Hardly the behaviour of a proper duchess.

I’ve never been a proper duchess.

But she had always been a devoted duchess. And it frightened her to admit something was shifting in her heart.

Once Olivia was settled, Philippa led the horse to the carriage and used the step to help climb behind Olivia. The woman’s soft curls tickled Philippa’s nose. Her bottom fit perfectly between Philippa’s thighs as she reached around Olivia to grip the harness.

‘Hold his mane for balance. We’ll start slow.’ Her voice was rough as she spoke into Olivia’s ear. She felt the quiver of apprehension or nerves running through the tense woman and wished she could ease Olivia’s fears.

Nonsense. Fear is the only emotion I should hope to inspire in this woman.

But that was a lie.

This is going to be a long ride.

That was the truth.