The Highwayman (Rakes and Rogues of the Restoration Book 3) Read Free Page B

then popped it in his mouth. The old stone farmhouse chosen for their rendezvous was thirty miles from the nearest town and well off the road, and he had missed his supper. Curious, he shifted in his seat and craned his neck to get a better look. The shape was definitely female, but it was impossible to discern aught else. He wondered how she breathed.
    “Why me, Henry?” he asked disinterestedly, though his curiosity was piqued. “Why not you, or one of your boys?”
    “Because she’s a very valuable package, Jack,” the rat answered sourly. His nose twitched and his thin mustache quivered like long rat whiskers. Jack watched him with amused fascination.
    “She’s of the gentry. She’s to be delivered to a puffed up lordling, and apparently only a gentleman can be entrusted with the task.” The figure in the corner stilled. Clearly, she was listening. “You were asked for specifically.”
    “Was I?” That was a surprise. And there wasn’t much that surprised him anymore. “So you… are an errand boy then? Sent to petition my aid?”
    “Have your fun, Jack. But I’m a useful friend and a determined enemy, and I’ve the kind of contacts a man like you might someday need.”
    “You know nothing of a man like me, Henry. But I confess I’m intrigued. If I agree to help you with this matter, who would be ahh…accepting this package? And who would be paying me?”
    “You don’t need to know the last unless you agree to the first. I will pay you one thousand pounds for taking her off my hands. His lordship declined to tell me why he wanted you, but doubtless he’ll pay you at least that much for delivering her, though that be between you and him.”
    Every instinct warned Jack to get up and leave. Rat-faced Perry was not a man to trust, except to keep a threat. The woman was no concern of his and he’d be a fool to make her one. Even at his most reckless, when he embarked on any endeavor it was according to his own plan and not someone else’s. Mysterious commissions from unknown strangers were for desperate or foolhardy men. Or the terminally curious. Many a fox has been caught that way. I wonder what she looks like.
    “All right. I’ll do it. When, and how far?”
    “Tonight. Twenty miles from here. A place called Hammond House. You’ll take my watch dogs with you, and you’ll be paid after the chit is delivered.”
    “Don’t mistake me for one of your curs, Henry. Not when we’re becoming such good friends,” Jack chided. “You’ll pay me now. A note on the goldsmith in Newark will suffice. And you know I use my own men or else I work alone. If that doesn’t suit, then find someone else or do it yourself.”
     
    ~
     
    Jack left shortly after sunset. The quarter moon cast a pallid light, barely enough to see by, but like any night creature his senses had long ago grown accustomed to the dark. A northerly breeze brought a bite to the air as it rustled through the trees, but the body slumped against his chest rested warm and silent in his arms. She’d made no attempt to struggle when they’d boosted her up in the saddle, and he would have thought her asleep if not for the rapid thrumming of her heart.
    Curious as to his prize, and somewhat concerned by her shallow breathing, Jack tightened his arm around her waist and tugged at the heavy hood, pulling it back off her head. A curtain of chestnut hair tumbled loose and her chest heaved as she gasped for breath. Underneath the hood, she was gagged and blindfolded.
    Bloody hell, that seems rather excessive! Did the fools want her delivered dead? What harm in making the wench a little more comfortable?
    She began to thrash about and Bess reared up in protest.
    “Don’t panic.” His voice was soothing and conversational, though his grip remained tight. “There is fresh air all around you. Breathe through your nose and you’ll be fine. You don’t have to take it all in at once. When you’ve calmed yourself, if you promise to behave, I’ll