Page 79 of In Honor’s Defense

He clasped her arm as she attempted to sail past. “Where are you going? Isn’t your seat up front?”

Hoping he’d overheard enough of her embarrassing conversation with the conductor to believe her frantic reaction was due more to her desire to get to the lavatory than to get away from him, she turned her face close enough to him to explain in a breathy whisper. “I need to get to the lavatory.” She gave a tug of her arm, intending to proceed to the back of the car and lead him away from Nathaniel so he couldn’t examine her slapdash efforts to recreate a sleeping boy out of a pair of satchels and a cap.

With an audience looking on, the lawyer had no choice but to act the gentleman, but instead of releasing her, his grip on her arm tightened. “I’ll escort you.”

Fear squeezed her chest. He wasn’t going to let her go. In fact, after they passed between the cars, he practically pushed her down the aisle, making no effort to stop at the lavatory.

“Mr. Mullins, the lavatory.” She tried to wrench her arm free, but he held firm.

“Easy, my dear. You don’t want to do yourself an injury.”

No, she wanted to do him an injury for likely hiring the man who tried to kill her nephew. But she couldn’t give away her suspicions. She had to act the ignorant damsel and pretend that his hand on her arm didn’t make her stomach churn.

“Here. Have a seat.” He guided her to an empty bench at the front of the car. “It isn’t safe to use the facilities right now, but you’ll be close here and can use them as soon as we are under way. Is Nathaniel with you? I can fetch him.”

“No!” She forced her voice to calm as she perched on the edge of the bench. “Please. He’s resting.” Hopefully in the front car’s lavatory. “As soon as I visit the ladies’ room, I’ll return to him.”

Mr. Mullins stared at the newly closed door behind him, then took a step in that direction. Damaris rose and made a grab for his arm. The train lurched forward. Damaris squealed and tumbled awkwardly against the seat across the aisle.

“For heaven’s sake,” the man accosted by her bruised hip muttered in disgust. “Collect your woman, sir, and sit down!”

Red-faced, Mr. Mullins righted her and steered her back to the bench. He pressed her into the seat, then sat beside her, pinning her skirt beneath his legs.

Grabbing the fabric of her skirt, she tugged it free and scooted as far away from him as possible. A movement in the darkness outside the window caught her eye and set her pulse speeding into a frenzy. Nathaniel. Sprinting away from the train and darting between a pair of stationary cars on a standby track. Thank you, God!

She longed to watch him, to ensure he found safety, but she couldn’t afford for Mullins to notice her taking a particular interest in anything outside. She turned sideways in the seat, pressing her back against the window to block the view.

“I really must insist that you let me visit the lavatory, sir. The train is under way now, and I can manage the gradual acceleration without a repeat of that unfortunate tumble.”

“You will sit still and remain precisely where you are, Miss Baxter.” Mullins’s voice was low and decidedly menacing. Apparently, their game of polite pretense had come to an end.

The train rocked, and she silently urged it to pick up speed and leave Lockhart behind. Mullins took hold of her elbow and dragged her against his side. Praying that Nathaniel had already concealed himself, she did her best to give her adversary something else to worry about.

“Remove your hand from my arm.” She raised her voice enough to capture the attention of the man across the aisle.

“Not until we’re up to speed, my dear,” Mullins responded in a falsely solicitous tone. “You know how unsteady you can be.” His grip tightened painfully on her forearm at the same time that a hard, cylindrical object pressed against her rib cage. His waxed mustache brushed against her ear. “I would advise against drawing attention to yourself, Miss Baxter. It could prove detrimental to your health and the health of your nephew.”

Damaris’s mouth went dry.

A heartbeat later, boots clomped in the aisle, and the man who’d tried to strangle her nephew stood in front of their seat, his hand braced against the overhead luggage rack. “Need anything?”

Mullins nodded. “Kind of you to offer, Colburn. I think Miss Baxter would be much more at her ease if you would fetch her nephew to her. Would you mind?”

“Not at all.”

Damaris started to protest, but Mullins jabbed his pistol harder into her side.

Colburn tipped his hat, his dark eyes laughing at her. No amusement softened his gaze, however, when he returned with Nathaniel’s cap crushed in his fist.

“Kid’s gone.”

“How unfortunate,” Mullins ground out. He pivoted toward her. “You don’t seem too alarmed by your nephew’s disappearance.”

Damaris lifted her chin and said nothing. The train barreled down the tracks, finally at full speed. She might not live past this night, but Nathaniel would.

CHAPTER

THIRTY-SIX