An Unexpected Earl (Lords of the Armory #2) - Anna Harrington Page 0,57

was hard as stone. “Don’t you?”

Without waiting for an answer, the duchess turned Amelia around and led her away through the throng of people.

“Are you all right?” Danielle squeezed her arm. “When I saw how he’d grabbed you like that—”

“I’m fine, truly.” Now. She’d come to several realizations this evening, not the least of which was how much she admired Danielle Braddock.

“If he strikes you once you’re home—”

“He won’t.” No, her brother had other means of punishing her. “He’s mostly bluster.”

Nevertheless, she persisted, “If he does, you have friends in Marcus and me.” She paused. “And in Pearce. Please remember that.”

Amelia looked away before Danielle could see the emotion darkening her face. It wasn’t a friendship with Pearce that worried her. “I think…I should just like to go home, if you don’t mind.”

“Is someone there to take care of you?”

In other words, someone to come between her and Frederick. “Yes. I have a maid I trust.”

“And do you trust me enough to tell me what you and your brother were arguing about?”

“Turnpikes,” she admitted with chagrin. “And how I want no part of them.”

“I see.”

No, she didn’t. She couldn’t possibly. Yet Amelia appreciated the duchess at that moment more than she could ever have said. “Thank you for what you did.”

“It was nothing.” Danielle slipped her a sly smile. “Helping women escape trouble is a specialty of mine.”

Before Amelia could decipher what she meant by that, they’d reached the front hall, and Danielle gave orders to one footman to send for a carriage and to a second to fetch Amelia’s wrap. Both men jumped into action. Moments later, the first man reappeared to escort her to the carriage.

Danielle glanced out the door at the hackney and frowned. “Perhaps we should have one of Devonshire’s maids accompany you.”

“I’ll be fine,” Amelia assured her.

The duchess’s gaze softened grimly on her. “Will you, truly?”

So much more meaning lay behind that quiet question, and it wrenched at Amelia. “I can’t tell you what’s wrong. I wish I could, but…” Choking off, she shook her head.

“Then tell Pearce.” She took both of Amelia’s hands in hers and squeezed them reassuringly. “He’ll keep you safe. You can trust him.”

She might be able to trust him, but she couldn’t trust herself when she was around him.

Amelia slipped on her cloak and left the house. The footman helped her into the carriage and closed the door. Then the old rig rolled away, down the semicircular drive and out into the street.

As the wheels turned from one street to another, taking her further away from the party and closer to home, Amelia closed her eyes and rested her head back against the squabs. Oh, how she wished she could vanish into the night, like a ghost into the fog—

Without warning, the carriage jerked roughly. The team darted wildly to the side of the street with a clatter of hooves against the pavement, throwing her against the compartment wall. They strained against their harnesses as they tried to break loose from the driver and run, and the carriage tossed violently from side to side behind them.

Grasping the seat edge to keep from being tossed to the floor, Amelia tried to look out the window but could see nothing in the darkness. The carriage halted with a jolt just as she heard men’s shouts rise in anger and echo down the dark street.

A loud thump hit the side of the carriage, and she gasped, ducking down in the compartment. Good God, what on earth—

A gunshot split the night.

The carriage door was yanked opened. A gloved hand reached in for her. She screamed—

“Amelia, it’s me!”

Pearce. The scream on her lips turned into a cry of relief. But from the street outside she could still hear shouts and the noise of fighting. All hell had broken loose around them. “What’s happening? Is it a riot?”

“Come on!” He grabbed her around the waist and swung her down to the ground, then took her hand and pulled her away from the carriage before she had time to catch her breath.

She stumbled beside him to keep up with his long strides as he raced with her down the dark street. Their footsteps pounded over the pavement, ringing as loudly in her ears as her pulse. No—not their steps, but those of others.

Her breath choked with fear as she glanced over her shoulder. They were being chased!

Pearce’s hand locked with hers, and he darted into the service yard behind the nearest house, pulling her along with him.