Page 76 of Disciplined by the Duke
Marcus continued down the street at a brisk clop, Dunkeld at their side. Turning, Liz looked back down the road. The gallows stood empty in the distance, the noose swinging in the wind. A shiver raced down her spine. “It’s not as though they won’t remember that the Duke of Montague was there. You made quite the scene. They’ll suspect you’re involved with freeing Amanda.”
“But with no proof, they won’t dare to accuse me. I have too many connections.” He tightened his hand at her abdomen, the warmth of it seeping in to soothe her unsettled stomach. “Still, it would be best for us to get far away for now.”
“Will he take her back to your house? Do you think the guards will catch them?”
“No one will catch Rothchild. And he’ll take her to either my home or his. Both of our houses are secure. When you have friends as high ranking as we do, no one will dare come searching for her in our custody.” He nuzzled her ear from behind. “Relax. You’ll be with your sister soon. But until we clear this up with the judge, we must take care.”
Liz rolled her shoulders, trying to ease the tension. Until she held Mandy in her arms, however, she would be on pins and needles. “I should take her to the Continent. Out of reach of the British legal system.”
His chest tensed behind her back. “No.” Marcus wove between carriages, kicked their mount into a trot. “I’ll work with the judiciary. Your sister won’t be a wanted woman for long.”
“But—”
“Trying to book passage to the Continent would only bring more attention to yourself. It makes no sense to run when your sister has a safe place to hole up. And when she will soon be exonerated.” He pulled her firmly to his body so she sat completely on his firm thighs. “Take a deep breath, Liz.”
His chest pressed against her back, moving her with each of his slow inhales. By the time they reached the end of the street, her breathing matched his. “That’s it, little bird. Everything is going to be all right. You and your sister are safe.”
“What about Westmore? He could come after Mandy.”
“I’ll take care of Westmore. Trust me.” He pressed his lips to the sensitive skin below her ear. “Tonight, you will tend to your sister. Leave the rest to me.”
Liz exhaled, long and deep. She did trust Marcus. She would leave Westmore up to him.
* * *
The exhalations of the horses sent billows of steam through the cold night air. Marcus and Rothchild led a group of ten other riders towards an inn at Winchester. Their latest intelligence indicated Westmore had stopped there on his way to Portsmouth where a ship waited to take him across the channel. A man of prudence, the earl had decided to make his escape with as much of his wealth as he could carry and was headed for France.
Marcus had received orders not to let that happen. The orders were unnecessary. After what Westmore had done to Liz and her sister, Montague would have chased him to hell and back.
Rothchild shifted in his saddle. “We should have sent for a doctor. I don’t like leaving Miss Wilcox uncared for.”
The argument was beginning to grow tiresome. Marcus sighed. “We have gone over this. There were no physical ailments that rest and food will not solve. Liz is with her, and she will give the best care Amanda can receive.” He damned Westmore again for forcing Marcus out into the cold night instead of letting him stay home with Liz and her sister, where he belonged.
Rothchild had brought Amanda to his own home, but as Liz refused to leave her sister, even to sleep, and Marcus refused to have her spend her nights anywhere but under his own roof, he had brought the two sisters to his town house in a heavily curtained carriage. He’d dismissed all but his most trusted servants for a week, with pay, without raising any eyebrows. Working as a spy for the Crown, he’d displayed enough secretive behavior over the past couple of years, and his servants had grown accustomed to it.
He rubbed his chest. He had seen the tiny furrows that appeared between Liz’s dark brows even as she smiled cheerfully for her sister. He wanted nothing more than to be with her, help her care for her sister, make sure she took care of herself. But his duty took precedence.
It didn’t hurt that his duty matched up so nicely with his own desire for vengeance.
“Yes, but I think she might be developing a rattle in her lungs. Rotting in Newgate like that, it would be no surprise.” Rothchild muttered an oath. “Westmore will burn in hell for making an innocent a pawn in this sort of game.”
Marcus glanced at his friend. Julius knew all too well what it was like to be shut away in a cell. He’d survived his own imprisonment at a place much worse than Newgate. His empathy for Miss Wilcox wasn’t surprising.
His rage over the ill-treatment of a relative stranger, however, gave Marcus pause. Rothchild excelled at never taking life too seriously. If the delight in his eyes was a little faded, he still managed a careless smile and shrug of his shoulders when faced with life’s privations.
“I heard nothing from her lungs. She made no sound at all.” Marcus frowned. Liz’s sister might be irreparably damaged in the mind from her time in prison. He wasn’t sure how best to help Liz with that hurt if it came. “And I must remind you that she is hardly an innocent. She did kill her father.”
Rothchild growled, and Darkwing skittered sideways, away from the sound.
Marcus raised a hand. “Be that as it may, at the first hint of illness, I will send for a doctor. It’s best that until we get her legal status sorted with the Old Bailey as few people as possible see her. It’s for her protection, as well.”
Moonlight glinted off of Rothchild’s narrowed eyes. “I’ll be coming by every day to check on her. If I think she requires a physician I’ll send for one.”
“All right, my friend. I agree,” Marcus said.
Rothchild rolled his shoulders. “All right then.”
They plodded along in companionable silence for several minutes. The cold air and the miles in the saddle made Marcus’s back begin to ache. When this was over, a hot bath with Liz would be the first thing on his list. And perhaps if he played up the minor ache he could convince her to use her sweet hands for a little backrub. From there . . .