Page 69 of A Potion for Passion

As soon as Nat had crept out of sight, Lawrence burst into the room and threw himself at the major, who was sitting at a desk with his back to him. “Sir,” he whispered in his ear, “there’s no time to explain. Fight me, knock me out, then defend yourself against a single enemy armed with a cudgel and a pistol. He’ll be coming from upstairs.”

The major didn’t hesitate. In fact, he was so quick to react, Lawrence didn’t know if he’d even heard his warning. In an instant, he was on his back, with Wilberforce on top of him, battering his head against the wooden floorboards.

“Not quite so hard—” he began as his vision blurred. But suddenly, the major went limp and collapsed.

“Judas.” With a groan, Lawrence rolled the body away from him and sat up, his head swimming. Nat’s grinning visage came into focus, his cudgel raised in his hand. “Thought you might not be much of a fighter,” he explained. “And I was right.”

“Have you killed him?” Lawrence felt sick.

“Nay. But he’ll be out for a while. Let’s get him on a horse and out of here before the sentries wake up.”

Well, so much for that plan. Lawrence felt too dazed to think of anything else and found himself hefting the major up by the arms as Nat grabbed his feet. Between them, they got the burden out of the house and into the stables without incident. But just as they were about to swing the unfortunate major onto a horse, they were stopped by the sound of running feet crossing the cobbled courtyard.

Lawrence’s heart stopped. He exchanged a look with Nat, then released his hold on the major and stole over to the open door of the stable. Someone was heading for the front door of the house. Not a soldier. A woman. When he recognized her, he forgot to breathe.

Flora!

Nat was already edging toward the stable door, his pistol raised in one hand, his cudgel in the other. Thinking rapidly, Lawrence shook his head and motioned him back into the darkness of the stable. Nat had a pistol. Flora’s life was at risk.

“Soldiers! Dozens of them!” The words seemed to come out of his mouth before he’d even formed them in his head. “We’ve got to run for it unless you want your guts handed to you on a plate.”

“I don’t hear no marching,” Nat whispered back.

“Of course not. They’re scouting around silently. We have to leave right now. If you go around the back of the stable, you’ll be out of sight and can make it to the hedge and clamber through. I’ll cover you,” he added, pulling out a pistol, “then follow you when the coast is clear. Now, run man, run! And don’t look back—you’ll just slow yourself down.”

The urgency in Lawrence’s voice convinced Nat. He hared out of the stables toward the hedge as if a whole detachment of dragoons were after him. As soon as he was through the hedge, Lawrence sped after him, determined to get well away before his accomplice discovered they were running away from a single unarmed female, who’d merely come to visit Major Wilberforce.

Great Jonah!That was a close call. Thank the lord for his acting skills!

Both he and Nat were out of breath by the time the grange and its outbuildings had disappeared into the distance. Their flight had brought them to the margins of a small coppice, where they dived into the gloom beneath the yellowing leaves, out of sight.

When Nat recovered his breath, he spat and cursed volubly. “Damned redcoats,” he growled. “We were this close to getting our fambles on our quarry. Lads aren’t going to like this. They won’t like it one bit.”

Lawrence said nothing. He’d just saved Flora from a potentially lethal situation, which was a huge relief. But if the major hadn’t heard his warning, he’d now believe Lawrence was in league with a bunch of cutthroats, having regretted his decision to save the major’s life.

It would be impossible to get near the man after this and explain things. Like a lovesick fool, Lawrence had risked putting his head in a noose for Flora’s sake.

“I’m off,” he told Nat. “You follow in a while. They’ll be looking for two men, not one. We’ll have to set up another meet for dealing with the goods you promised me.”

He didn’t wait for Nat’s response. It might have been the aftereffect of the major beating his head on the floor, but he felt as if he were sinking in a quagmire, with weight pressing against his ribs, stifling his breath. He was in a situation he could no longer control, and his feelings, rather than common sense, were starting to get the better of him.

He’d jeopardized his plans to emigrate to America and could end up with his head in a noose. Even worse was the fact that he had, by bringing the major to Flora’s door, hazarded her life.

It was time he left the area. Quickly, before he did any more harm.