Page 26 of The Heart’s Choice (Cotton Cops Mysteries #1)
Chapter 25
Rescue
“P lease don’t let anyone else see me in such a dreadful state,” Bea urged when Roger told her another carriage was stopping to investigate.
“I’ll need their help to get you out,” he replied, clearly trying to be serious. “But let’s see what we can do about your skirts.”
Despite her predicament, her body heated when Roger’s hand came close to her thighs as he pulled down her errant skirts. The twinkle in his eyes promised even greater delights once they were married. “Pick up the notes first,” she commanded in an effort to take her mind off the situation. “We don’t want people …”
Roger pressed a finger to her lips. “The money is the least of my worries. There’ll be time enough for that once we get you out safely.”
They startled when a shot rang out. The heart-wrenching cries of agony ceased abruptly.
“Thank goodness,” she said. “That poor animal.”
After greeting her politely and reassuring her they would do their best to free her in no time, two men swarmed over the carriage, trying to ascertain how best to extract her. Their wives uttered words of encouragement from somewhere out of Bea’s line of sight. Roger did his utmost to protect her from debris when the two good Samaritans levered off the damaged side of the vehicle. He crawled in beside her and shoved pieces of splintered wood off her belly. “Are you hurt?” he asked. “Can you move?”
“I feel bruised, and I think Peter’s lockbox hit me on the head, but I’m otherwise all right,” she replied. “Get me out of here.”
* * *
Roger’s heart soared when Beatrice snaked her arms round his neck. He lifted her out of the wreckage, guided as he stepped backwards over wreckage by the two men who’d helped to free her.
“Let’s get her into our carriage,” the taller of the two said. “We’re the Barton brothers from Preston. It’s fortunate we had just left home when we came across your accident. We can take her there forthwith.”
“It’s the wisest option,” Roger told Beatrice, who nodded her agreement.
There wasn’t room in the carriage for everyone, so Roger and one of the brothers volunteered to stay behind and wait for a ride. Beatrice pleaded with Roger not to leave her, but it was clear she was exhausted, and the women soon convinced her they wouldn’t be apart long.
The Barton vehicle had just disappeared when Midnight came trotting into view. “Whoa, boy,” Roger urged, grabbing the reins.
“Magnificent beast,” the younger Barton declared.
“Aye. Got me here just in time,” he replied, stroking the panting horse’s muzzle. “I can’t believe he’s found his way back.”
“If he’s yours, where has he been?”
There was no choice but to reveal the whole story of Peter and Odlum’s treachery. “That’s Odlum’s body in the ditch,” he said. “They kidnapped Beatrice, intending to take her to Gretna.”
“Gretna? In that carriage?” Barton asked incredulously. “I’m surprised it got this far without falling apart, especially with such a pathetic creature pulling it.”
“I also believe they were responsible for the death of a young lad in Bolton. Peter rode off on Midnight, so I suppose he has the rest of the money.”
“Which I assume they stole.”
“They did. It’s a long story, but the money belonged to the late Baron Belmont. Beatrice’s father inherited it.”
“Well, let’s gather up what remains of it inside the carriage and you can tell my brother the details when we get to his home in Preston. He’s the Superintendent of the local detachment of the Lancashire Constabulary. He’ll soon have this Peter chap rounded up and dealt with.”
Thrilled by the fortuitous turn of events, Roger shook his companion’s hand. “I’m Roger Sandiford and I thank you.”
“Sandiford, eh? From Broadclough Mills?”
“Aye. You know it?”
“Of its fine reputation, and the relief work you’re providing for workers at this difficult time in the cotton industry. My brother’s had to deal with a number of nasty situations here when masters have done nothing to ease the sting of unemployment.”
“We’re doing what we can,” Roger replied. “Beatrice and her father have helped enormously.”
“Let’s hope the Americans stop fighting soon. Do you suppose your horse could convey us both to Preston once we’ve gathered the money?”
“Fingers crossed,” he replied, stuffing bank notes into his pockets.
* * *
Under the supervision of Mrs. Barton, an army of maids quickly stripped Bea of her tattered clothes, bathed and dressed her in a clean nightgown, and tucked her up in a cozy bed.
The maids tutted at length about the bruises forming just about everywhere on her body. “I’m beginning to feel them too,” she admitted.
She’d told some of the story during the short journey in the carriage, but the Bartons hadn’t pressed her, obviously sensitive to the fact she was at the end of her tether. She recalled Mr. Barton revealing that he was a policeman.
Worried about Roger, who’d been abandoned on the highway, she dozed fitfully until being awakened by an argument in the corridor. “What’s going on?” she asked the maid keeping vigil at her bedside.
“The young man wants to see you, but the housekeeper thinks it would be inappropriate.”
“Nonsense. He’s my fiancé and he saved my life. I want to see him.”
She bobbed a curtsey and conveyed the message to the people in the corridor. A few seconds later, Roger swept into the room and gathered her into his arms. Unable to contain the fear any longer, she wept uncontrollably.
* * *
Bea’s heart-wrenching sobs shuddered through Roger. Anger still held him in its thrall. He’d come too close to losing the woman he loved. “Hush, my darling lass,” he said softly as he stroked her hair. “I can’t tell you how good it feels to hold you.”
“I feel safe now you’re here,” she replied.
“I came straight from the stables once I was sure Midnight was taken care of. I couldn’t wait to see you.”
“Midnight?” she asked.
“He’s a horse I’ve owned for a while, but never ridden. It’s a long story but suffice it to say he helped me catch up to the carriage you were in. I was furious when Peter stole Midnight and rode off, but the horse came back when Barton and I were waiting on the highway. We rode him here.”
“So, we don’t know where Peter is?”
“No, but Barton is the Superintendent hereabouts and he assures me men are already out looking for him. He’s also sent word to Belmont Grange and my mother. I hate to tell you this, but it’s possible they murdered Malcolm Pickering.”
“How can that be? They weren’t in Bolton then.”
“As far as we know,” he replied, not surprised when she remained silent for a few minutes. A killer in the family was a daunting prospect.
“I didn’t know you are a rider,” she said, obviously not wishing to pursue the matter.
“I’m not.”
She cupped his face. “But you were determined to save me and I love you all the more for it.”
She pursed her lips, inviting his kiss.
Their tongues mated, conveying the intense relief they both felt. It seemed natural to cup her breast. Her moan of pleasure echoed in his male parts, auguring well for future delights. He took a chance and brushed his thumb over her nipple, rewarded by a growl as she suckled his tongue.
“Don’t stop,” she whispered when they broke apart for breath. “I need …”
Roger knew what she needed. “Would you like a little taste of the delights we’ll enjoy in our marriage bed?”
When she nodded shyly, Roger slowly pulled up her nightgown and let his hand wander to the soft curls at the juncture of her thighs. “Once we do this, you’re mine forever,” he said, looking into her eyes.
“I want to be yours,” she breathed in reply.
He bent his head to suckle a nipple through the fine fabric of her nightgown, then touched his finger to the diamond of her desire.
“I’m so wet,” she lamented, opening her legs.
“Wet is good,” he assured her, struggling to ignore the urging of his cock.
It took only a few strokes to bring her to completion. He smothered her cries of ecstasy with his kiss. “You are beautiful,” he said, as she lay sated in his arms. “You can scream all you want to in our own bed, but we don’t want to attract the censure of the Bartons’ housekeeper.”
“No,” she agreed. “We owe this family a great deal.”
“I should go. The servants are running a much-needed bath for me.”
She nodded sleepily as he extricated himself from her embrace. It wouldn’t take long for her to fall asleep. Tired but well-pleased with himself, he inhaled her essence on his fingers, growling as he left to seek his chamber.