The Lord of the Highwaymen - Elizabeth Bramwell Page 0,37

always so dramatic?” asked Louis from behind them. “I do not know who to lay my shilling on.”

Abershawe swung his leg over his horse and jumped down to the roadway, grinning at the chevalier’s comment.

“Always bet on the devil, my Frenchie friend. The angels follow the rules, while we can do as we please.”

He stopped just in front of Amelia, looking her up and down once again. Close up, she realized he was older than she had first supposed, being in his early twenties as opposed to his teens. His countenance was handsome, but there was a rage-filled arrogance bubbling just below his exterior that made her truly afraid.

It was too late to back down, however, or to race to William and beg him to protect her.

“What are you dressed as, then?” asked Abershaw, taking the corner of the collar in his fingers to inspect a sapphire set at the outer edge of the necklace.

“She’s Cleopatra, Queen of the Nile,” replied William from behind her. “It may be difficult to appreciate, but that collar is a work of art in its own right, based on tomb carvings that date back to before the time of Christ.”

“Scholar, are you, my lord?” said Abershawe, letting go of the collar. “Well, rest assured that my friends will appreciate that piece of information when they smash the piece up and remove all the jewels. Now, my lady, if you don’t mind, I’d like to claim my prize.”

He reached around the back of her neck, pushing his fingers beneath her velvet cloak as he tried to locate the clasp. Amelia remained still, despite the overwhelming desire to pull away from the unwanted sensation of his hands on her skin.

Odd, she thought, how William’s touch filled her with adoration and love, while Abershawe’s made her wish to vomit.

He furrowed his brows in concentration.

“How the hell does this thing undo?” he muttered and then froze in surprise.

Amelia pressed the muzzle of her pistol into the crotch of his pantaloons, the movement disguised by his body and her velvet cape.

“While my weapon is only of trifling size, Jerry, I am tolerably certain that it would cause considerable damage to your manhood should I decide to shoot,” she whispered, the smile never leaving her lips. “I think it is time that you display the legendary civility of your brethren and decide to let us all go, with no harm done to any of us. I did not mention it before now, but my closest friend is the granddaughter of Bow Street’s current magistrate, and if anyone here suffers so much as a sprain because of your actions, he will make it his life’s work to hunt you down and make you dance in the gibbet.”

There was no shock, no fear in his eyes as he stared into her face, as though trying to decide how serious she was in her threat.

“It seems I underestimated you, my lady,” he murmured in response.

“What’s going on, Jerry?” shouted one of his men.

“Yes, damn it all, take the necklace and let Amelia go,” demanded William, and she knew that there were only moments before he would crack and rush to her aid.

She increased the pressure of her pistol ever so slightly. Abershawe’s eyes widened in discomfort, but he did not show any other response.

“Please, Jerry,” she practically purred at him. “I do not want to be the ‘Darling Sporting Jenny’ of the ballads they will write about you. Part as my friend, if you please, and I will forget to mention to anyone what happened tonight.”

The flame of that deep, volatile rage that filled him flared in his eyes for a moment, and were it not an expression she had seen before on her stepson, Archibald, she would have been afraid. He buried it quickly, however, even managing to grin at her with rakish charm as his hands dropped away from her neck, and he stepped back a single pace.

She kept the pistol trained on him, but beneath the folds of her cloak so that no one else could see it.

“I’m afraid to tell you that you’ve been conned, my lady. Them jewels are nothing but paste,” said Abershawe with an apologetic shrug. “They’re worth less than nothing to me.”

Amelia cocked an eyebrow at him, and he dared to wink at her in response.

“I had no notion,” she sighed. “I’m afraid I have nothing else to pay you with.”

“That’s very true,” he said, looking thoughtful. Without warning, he leaned forward and planted a