Page 69 of What a Widow Wants

Before she could draw breath to scream again, Tom’s body was plucked up off her. She was free. Scrabbling for a purchase in the loose hay, she slipped and trod on her gown. The rip of parting fabric didn’t impede her at all as, sidling like a crab, she found her footing and staggered to her feet.

The man called Jack stood, eyes white and wide, clutching Ella to him.

Fury burning in her heart, she descended on him like an avenging angel. “Give me my daughter.”

Glancing away from her into the darkness from which arose the sounds of fists pounding flesh, groans and moans, and the crunch of bones, Jack tossed Ella into the hay, turned tail, and melted into the darkness.

Ella screamed and Fanny darted forward. “I’m here, lovey. Shhh. Shhh.” Scooping Ella out of the hay, Fanny ran for the door. Finding it hanging broken, attached only by a piece of leather hinge, she sped out into the cold night air, her child’s sobs harsh in her ear. “We’re safe now, lovey. Shhh.”

She peered into the darkness. Where to go? It needn’t be far. Doubtless the ruffians would flee as soon as their compatriot finished the drubbing they so richly deserved. Had that been Davies? The coachman had never impressed her as having much physical strength, but working with horses may have toughened him in ways she didn’t understand.

Her eyes adjusted quickly, assisted by the faint starlight, and she spied a group of bushes off to the left of the barn. She scurried over to them, ducking behind them and crouching close to the ground. Ella clung to her and she clutched her tight. “It will be all right, lovey,” she crooned over and over in a whisper. Dear God, let these men depart and not seek them out again.

A man emerged from the barn holding the lantern high.

Sucking in a breath, she whispered in Ella’s ear, “Be quiet, Ella. Not a word, not a sound.”

He swung the light to and fro, peering into the darkness. Searching for them. Lowering her head, Fanny prayed.

“Fanny? Fanny, are you there?”

“Matthew!” The sound of the beloved, familiar voice brought her head up with a snap. She bounded up from behind the bushes, staring at her savior in the light. “Matthew, oh, God.” Clutching Ella, she ran back toward the barn.

He met them halfway, enfolding them in his strong arms. “Fanny, thank God you’re all right.”

Stunned and completely drained, she burst into tears.

His arms tightened around them. “Hush, love. I’m here. Nothing will ever harm you again, I promise. If I have to kill Theale with my own hands, he will trouble you no longer.”

The assurances only made her cry harder. This man had wanted nothing but to marry and protect her for so long. Had she not been so stubborn and blind none of this escapade would have happened. She didn’t deserve such devotion and the realization made her wail even louder.

Ella chimed in with her own sobs.

“Fanny, are you hurt? Is Ella all right? For God’s sake, tell me.” The deep concern, something near panic in his voice forced her rational mind back to the fore.

“Yes.” She sobbed and gulped, trying to stem the tears. “I believe Ella is well. Are you, lovey? Did the bad men hurt you?”

The child nodded, then burrowed her head into Fanny’s shoulder. “Mama, who is it? Is it the bad man?”

“No, lovey. It’s Lord Lathbury come to rescue us.”

“Lord Laffbury?” Ella poked her head up. “Lord Laffbury, is it really you?” She clasped her arms around his neck and he drew her out of Fanny’s arms and into his.

“I believe she’s fine, as am I. A bit bruised, perhaps, but truly not harmed.”

“Truly?” Lifting the lantern, he peered into her face, silently asking the question.

“No, you arrived before . . . before . . .” She shuddered and laid her head on his chest. It had been a near thing. One more minute and—

“Hush, my love. You are safe.”

When had she started weeping again? “I’m so sorry.” She tried to pull away and should have saved the effort. Might as well try to move the standing stones on Salisbury Plain as break his grip. “Let me go, Matthew. I can’t be a watering pot, not now when Ella needs me to be strong for her.”

“Why don’t you let me be strong for both of you?” Dark smudges underneath his eyes, the deeply grooved furrows of his brow, and the drawn look about his mouth attested to his profound concern for her and Ella. His daughter.

Surely after this night the tale must come to light, for she would deny him no longer. If he still wanted her, wanted them, then she would be a widow no longer. She nodded.

“Then come. Lucifer is over here.” He led them to the side of the barn.