Annette Blair - Scandalous Brides

At that moment Parker's foot shot out, kicking the pistol from Collette's hand. Grabbing Nessa with one hand and Simmons with the other, he bolted for some nearby trees. With a strangled oath, Collette scrambled for the pistol.

“Stop,” her husband barked. “Let them go. We can't guard so many anyway, nor do I wish to feed them. I have the only prize I need in one of Wellington's most valuable officers.”

Jack offered up a fervent prayer of thanks for Nessa's escape, just before a savage blow to the back of his head made everything go black.

~ ~ ~

FOR A MINUTE OR TWO, sheer panic kept Nessa's legs moving. She scarcely noticed the undergrowth snagging her skirts or the branches stinging her face. But as reason overcame fear, she slowed, pulling against Parker's iron grip on her wrist.

“Wait! Wait,” she panted. “We can't leave Jack. They'll kill him!” Remembering his last words, she almost felt he deserved it—but no. Surely he'd said that only to save her. Still, right now she rather wished she didn't know any French at all.

Parker pulled her forward again. “They won't kill him. They want a live prize to give the Corsican when he arrives. He should be safe enough for now.”

Nessa stopped resisting and trotted by his side. “For now? But what if he fights? Tries to escape, come after us? Mightn't they kill him then?”

“His lordship won't come after us,” Parker assured her. “His first concern will be your safety. I'm to get you to the coast at all costs. Those were his orders.”

“Do you mean he expected this to happen?”

“Of course not. But he's a man who likes to be prepared for every—”

Just then Simmons, who'd been panting more and more loudly, stumbled over a root and nearly fell. Parker released Nessa's wrist to support her.

“There, now, mum, we can walk for a bit,” he said kindly. “I hear no sounds of pursuit, so we should be safe for the present.”

Nessa considered taking the opportunity to bolt back to Jack, but realized that would likely only endanger him more. In fact, without her along, he would never have been in this predicament at all. Remembering how he'd disappeared into the crowd in the Paris streets, she was certain he could have escaped the country easily, had he not had her safety to consider.

They walked now, conserving their energy, Parker murmuring encouragements to the flagging Simmons. Nessa followed along, deep in thought. She'd brought Jack little but trouble from the moment he'd met her, she realized. Far from giving him the respectability he'd sought, she'd embroiled herself —and him—in one scandal after another, each worse than the last. 'Twas her fault they'd had to leave England, and now it would be her fault if Jack were imprisoned or killed by Napoleon's forces.

Jack's last words came back to haunt her again. Perhaps he really did think of her as little more than a whore! And he'd told Collette earlier that Nessa couldn't hold a candle to her… No. Jack had told her he loved her, and she would not, could not believe he hadn't meant it. Not after the last two weeks they'd spent together, sharing their hearts. She owed him her faith, and her loyalty.

“—extremely well, ma'am. You're a very brave woman, Mrs. Simmons,” Parker was saying softly.

“It's… it's Miss,” replied Simmons, almost shyly.

But Nessa scarcely noticed this oddity. “Parker,” she said suddenly, “you were with Jack in the wars, were you not?”

He nodded.

“Then no doubt you and he faced dangers at least this great. What would Jack do now, were he in our place?”

Parker slowed, considering. “There was a time, on the Peninsula, when half a dozen or so of his soldiers were captured.”

“Yes?” prompted Nessa eagerly. “And what did he do?” She realized now that though Jack had told her much of his childhood, his hopes, his dreams, he'd told her almost nothing of his years in the Army.

“He waited until all but the sentry were asleep, then created a diversion.”

“A diversion?”

Parker nodded again. “Some pigs, as I recall. The French forces had occupied a farmhouse and its buildings. His lordship contrived to release a herd of pigs, and in the resultant confusion he was able to get his men out.”

Nessa had to stifle a giggle, and saw that Simmons' lips were uncharacteristically twitching as well. “Pigs! Oh, my. But—” she thought hard for a moment— “mightn't we do something similar now, tonight? Wait a few hours, till everyone is likely to be asleep, then get Jack out? If anyone is about, we could create a

diversion, just as he did on that occasion.”

But Parker shook his head. “His lordship would never forgive me if I put you in such danger, my lady. Once I have you safely to the coast and bound for England, I shall return and endeavor to rescue him myself.” Simmons nodded vigorously in agreement.

“But that may be too late!” Nessa exclaimed. “It would be days— perhaps more than a week— before you could return. Napoleon is due in Paris at any moment, and once they turn Jack over to his forces, you'll never get him out. He might even be—” she swallowed— “executed.”

Parker made no reply and Nessa could see, by the dim moonlight that filtered through the now-sparse trees, that the man was torn between concern for his master and obedience to his orders. She pressed her point.

“If he dies, what good is my safety? I'd sooner die myself than live without him, I assure you.” Abruptly, she stopped and sat down on a large stone. “In fact, I'm not going a step further. I rather doubt you can carry me all the way to the coast. I'll escape you at some point, and go back for Jack. I'm certain I'd have a much better chance of freeing him with your help, but if I must, I shall attempt it alone.”

Simmons began to sputter something about unseemliness, but Parker sighed. “Very well, my lady, you win.” Nessa thought he looked almost relieved. “If we plan carefully and are exceedingly cautious, we may have a reasonable chance of success. 'Tis certain they'll not expect us to return, especially not tonight.”

He turned to Simmons. “We passed an abandoned shelter of sorts a short way back. Do you wait there for us, and get some sleep if you can. It would be as well if at least one of us is well rested. If we fail to return, you must make your way north as best you can. Do you see that star?” He pointed and waited until Simmons nodded. “That is due north. Between that, and recalling that the moon rises in the east, like the sun, you should be able to manage.”

Simmons looked more than a little frightened, but raised her chin bravely. “I trust you will return, and with his lordship —but I'll be quite all right. Pray do not worry about me.”

Nessa regarded her abigail with new respect. Just now, however, she had other things to think about. “Here's that shed now,” she commented. “Ah, good— there is dry straw and bracken inside. This heavy cloak will only hinder me, so I'll leave it here for you to lie on, Simmons. Try to sleep, and we will be back before you know it.” She fervently hoped her words would prove true.

~ ~ ~

JACK AWOKE TO DARKNESS. The first thing he noticed was a pounding headache. The next was that his hands and feet were bound by thick rope, and that he was lying on something prickly and smelly —dirty straw was his guess. Straining his eyes in the blackness, he saw a few chinks of dim light, outlining just enough of his enclosure to reveal it as a stall in a barn. Listening intently, he heard the shufflings and snortings of nearby animals, but no obviously human sounds.

Struggling into a half-sitting position against the rough boards of the wall, he wondered how long he'd been unconscious. Not terribly long, perhaps, as it was still obviously night. Would Nessa and Parker have made it to relative safety by now? He devoutly hoped so.