Hiding Rose Page 5

  “We have to find somewhere to hide,” he growled aloud.

  “I am sorry, are you talking to yourself, or me?” Rose snapped.

  When another flurry of popping noises whizzed past her ears, Rose suddenly found the back of her head grabbed again and her face shoved roughly against his rock-hard thigh.

  “Let me go,” she ordered, slapping at his hand until he had no choice but to let her up again. “Will you stop doing that?”

  “Someone is trying to kill us,” Barnaby ground out between clenched teeth.

  Was she dense? “Did you not hear that gunshot?” he snapped.

  “Of course I did,” she replied with a snort. “I am neither deaf nor stupid.”

  “Oh, well, would you care to tell me how to stop it? Moreover, explain to me why you decided to walk off down the street when I expressly told you to stay still? We could have been away from here if I hadn’t had to stop to pick you up,” he shouted. “Now look what has happened!”

  He paused in lambasting her long enough to call an apology to the man who tumbled out of a tavern and was nearly run over.

  Rose heaved a sigh of relief as she watched the man stumble back against the path and then fall over. At least they hadn’t hit him, but it had been close.

  “Will you slow down?” she demanded.

  “No,” Barnaby snorted. “Not right now, thank you.” He smirked at her, as if daring her to try it. “Feel free to disembark if you want to.”

  Rose stared at the passing houses and wished she had the courage to. She had no idea who Barnaby was or what he wanted with her, but she had no intention of being kidnapped by anyone, and that was what this felt like.

  “Who on earth are you, Barnaby?” she demanded. She had never seen anybody drive so recklessly, or so precisely at such breakneck speeds before and be so completely unconcerned by it. They had been shot at numerous times and he hadn’t even blinked. Throughout all the evening’s tumultuous events she had been a dithering wreck whereas he had remained as cool and calm as everything was just an everyday occurrence. Why was this not unusual to him?

  “I am the man you do not want to annoy right now,” Barnaby ground out as he steered the carriage around another tight curve.

  He swore fluidly when they were suddenly face-to-face to a large curricle.

  “Watch out!” Rose screamed.

  She hung on to the seat beneath her for dear life, and closed her eyes to prevent having to witness the horrifying crash she knew was about to happen. When nothing happened, she opened one eye a crack and then the other. To her relief, all she saw was empty road ahead.

  “Please slow down. Oh, please slow down,” she began to chant over and over as she looked over her shoulder. The carnage they had left behind made her wince.

  “Sorry,” Barnaby called to the furious carriage driver who was now waving an angry fist at them in the middle next to the mangled wreck of his carriage.

  Rose turned accusing eyes on the man beside her. “Sorry? That’s all you can say to that man? Look at what you have done.”

  Barnaby sighed but refused to defend himself.

  “I suppose I am to be grateful that he doesn’t catch up with us either,” she muttered. “At this rate, if that Chadwick person doesn’t kill us we are going to end up behind bars for ruining half of the town.” Rose crossed herself, hoping Barnaby would take the hint. When he didn’t she sighed loudly. “I demand you stop the carriage this instant and let me down,” she commanded.

  Barnaby glared back. “I can, if you absolutely insist on it, but if I do, you have to face the gunmen on your own. They want you dead because you witnessed their boss kill two of the underworld’s most stupid criminals.”

  “Underworld?” Rose spat, deliberately ignoring everything else he said. “What on earth is the underworld?” She glanced down at the ground as though expecting it to be there and swallowed when she began to feel sick.

  When she began to topple forward, Barnaby slammed his arm across her chest, propelling her backward against the seat.

  “I told you not to look down,” Barnaby snapped. “It will make you fall off. What do you want to do, kill yourself and save Chadwick the job?”

  She remained blessedly silent for a few minutes but, rather than take any solace in the brief respite, Barnaby sensed her staring piously at him. The heat of her gaze bore holes in the side of his head so badly that, for the first time since he was a child, he actually wanted to squirm, and he hadn’t done anything wrong. Well, except for steal a carriage, nearly mow down a couple of pedestrians, and knock a man off his curricle. He knew she was still waiting for him to do what she wanted and slow down. Moreover she was waiting for him to tell her all about the underworld and wasn’t prepared to quit staring at him until he did.

  He waited until they had traversed several more streets. Once he was confident that they had outrun Chadwick’s men for now, he slowed the carriage down to a less furious pace and reluctantly met her gaze.

  “The underworld is a slang term for the criminal element of our society. They are known as the underworld because they run their criminal operations covertly. They live by an entirely different class system to most of us.” He eyed her dress before he threw her a rueful look which didn’t seem to have any effect on her whatsoever. “But I wouldn’t expect you to know about any of that.”

  Rose turned to face forward. She wasn’t sure if she should take that as an insult or not, and frowned at the road ahead while she considered what, or who, she was now mixed up with.

  “Is that man, the killer, the underworld?”

  “From the underworld,” Barnaby corrected. “Yes. He works for a man in London called Terrence Sayers. He is brutal, but also incredibly cunning. Sayers likes to adopt disguises.”

  “As what?” Her question was instinctive. It was obvious that Barnaby was going to say ‘as someone else’, and she waited for the put down. The answer she did get surprised her.

  “At the moment, he is posing as a Russian Count,” Barnaby replied wryly before he issued her with a stern look. “But you are not to tell anyone that.”

  “Who would I tell?” She replied with a shrug. “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why is he posing as a Russian Count?” She had to admit that this particular adventure was all a little thrilling, even if it did threaten her sanity.

  “Because he thinks nobody would suspect a Count could do something as underhand as steal extremely expensive items from notable members of London’s aristocracy.”

  “He has?” Rose swallowed nervously.

  “Yes. By posing as someone wealthy, nobody would suspect him as needing the money or the goods,” Barnaby continued.

  “A perfect ruse,” Rose murmured. She jumped a little when she realised Barnaby had heard her.

  “It is, or was. We are on to him now, though,” he assured her.

  “Who is this ‘we’?” Before Barnaby could reply, she pointed to the road behind them. “That Chadwick man is working for Terrence Sayers?”

  Barnaby nodded. “Yes. That is one of his associates; close friends, if you like. His name is Albert Chadwick. His brother was recently arrested for murder, forgery, and trading stolen goods, theft, blackmail, attempted murder-”

  “Good Lord,” she whispered when Barnaby didn’t seem inclined to stop recounting Chadwick’s list of crimes. “If Chadwick is just a lackey, what on earth is this Terrence Sayers like?”

  She wished she had kept her mouth shut when Barnaby looked her square in the eye.

  “Worse. People who come into contact with Sayers generally don’t live long enough to tell anyone what he looks like,” Barnaby sighed. “It is why we have found him so damnably difficult to find.”

  “Who is this ‘we’?” she asked again.

  “The people I work with,” he replied blandly.

  “Just who on earth are you, Barnaby?” she asked. All sorts of thoughts and ideas were flowing through her mind. She wasn’t sure where
to start with it all; or what to think about anything but had to keep asking questions to stop herself from going stark raving mad.

  “I am someone who can get you out of this mess,” Barnaby said. “But you need to stay with me.”

  “I want to go home,” she replied. “You cannot just kidnap me and expect me to go anywhere with you. Why, we are unchaperoned. What will people think if they see us? The closer we get to where I live, someone I know will be sure to recognise me. I will be ruined.”

  Barnaby mentally swore. “Do you know what has happened this evening?” he demanded. He was reaffirming just how much danger they faced and all she could be concerned about was her ruined reputation!

  If that isn’t just like a woman, he thought snidely and issued her with a look of disgust that made her brows lift.

  “Of course I do,” she replied snippily, tipping her nose high in the air.

  Barnaby snorted. “What?”

  “Pardon?” She looked at him blankly.

  “What has happened?” Barnaby demanded. “I mean, to some men you might be the prize catch of the season, but I am neither desperate nor stupid enough to steal a lady right out of a ball for the world to see just because I like her. There was a reason for my actions. A very good reason as a matter of fact. Do you not remember?”

  Barnaby glanced behind them and frowned at her. “It is strange, but I cannot see anyone chasing after you to retrieve you from my dastardly clutches. Where are your relatives, I wonder? Did you say that your parents were at that ball? They don’t seem all that bothered that you have gone.”

  When she fell silent, he glanced at her and immediately felt like an eel when he saw the hurt on her face she couldn’t quite hide. He knew then that the lady had a few secrets of her own and, if he had any chance of surviving this time with her, he had to discover what they were.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “I am sorry,” he said. “That was rude of me.”

  “My parents were chatting with friends,” she replied quietly. “They were also in their cups.”

  There was something in the tone of her voice that warned him it was a regular occurrence. A slight hint of disapproval maybe or a faint warning of unspoken censure. Whatever it was, Barnaby knew he had touched on a sore subject.

  “Do they do that often?” Barnaby asked. “Drink?”

  If they were drunk, it would be some time before they sobered up enough to realise Rose had disappeared. While that served Barnaby’s purposes perfectly, it didn’t bode well for Rose’s lifestyle.

  “Often enough for them to be an embarrassment.”

  The bitterness in her voice drew a startled look from him. He suspected they were drunkards although didn’t ask. It really wasn’t his concern. Whatever problems Rose had back at home she would be able to deal with when she returned – whenever that would be.

  “They drink a lot then?” Barnaby snorted. “Everyone in there drank copious amounts, Rose. Your parents aren’t alone.”

  “Unfortunately, my parents have taken to behaving like it at home as well.” She sighed and glanced at him. She had no idea why she was telling him all of this but now she had started it was impossible to stem the flow of words. “They aren’t likely to notice I have gone for several days if they return home and carry on drinking like they usually do.”

  Rose thought about what she had just told him. She would like to say that her parents could stop when they wanted to, and their drinking was only for recreational purposes, but more and more of late they had taken to imbibing until they were rendered senseless for several days at a time.

  “You are effectively living by yourself then,” Barnaby sighed.

  “They are often incapable of getting out of bed,” Rose admitted. She offered him a false smile she hoped distracted him from the tears hovering on her lashes. “I don’t mind, really. It means I get a lot more freedoms than most women my age get.”

  Barnaby mulled over her spirited nature and wondered if her head-strong behaviour was a result of having to fend for herself. It didn’t seem fair that someone like Rose should be disregarded so callously. She should be looked after.

  “It is going to be some time before you can go home again, Rose,” Barnaby admitted. “I can’t lie to you. You are a witness to two murders, of men who we think tried to double-cross Sayers. The killer is directly connected to the man my colleagues and I have been hunting for several months now. We need to get Chadwick off the streets and behind bars where he belongs. To do that, we have to get you to London so you can talk to my boss.”

  “So why have we just left him face down on the pavement then? Why didn’t we take him to the magistrate?” Rose countered.

  “Because there is only one of me, and at least eight of them,” Barnaby replied. “It is hardly a fair fight, especially when I-” When he hesitated she looked at him.

  “When you are burdened with me,” she finished for him. Confirmation of her assumption came from the stilted silence that settled between them.

  “You are a main witness to the murders that will put Chadwick behind bars for a long time.” Barnaby replied.

  “But why do I have to go to London?” Rose asked.

  “That’s where my boss is, and where you are safest believe it or not,” Barnaby said frankly.

  “I thought that is where this Terrence Sayers’ underworld lives?” she replied coldly.

  “It is,” Barnaby agreed.

  “So you are taking me right into the lion’s den?” She didn’t know if he was setting her up for something. It seemed a completely ridiculous thing to be involved in but then this entire evening had been ludicrous.

  “No, we are going to hide you in the busiest town in this country. There are too many people in London for Sayers and his gang to find you. We can hide you more easily there than we can out here.” Barnaby waved an arm to the empty fields around them.

  Although it was too dark to see much, a sense of isolation swept over her that was emphasised by the silence of the night. Rose shivered and rubbed her chilled arms as she studied the shadows they passed through. She wanted to go home but then didn’t. Back at home another set of problems awaited her whereas right now at least she was being treated like a person.

  When they both fell quiet, Barnaby took the opportunity to study her a little more closely. Rose was small yet perfectly rounded with curves in all the right places. She was the epitome of femininity but he knew from experience that she was also practical, strong willed, and logical. He had to admit that in spite of her chatterbox tendencies she wasn’t as bad as he had first thought her to be. In fact, he found challenging her quite engaging. It kept him on his toes and gave him something else to think about other than where Chadwick was and how many men he had with him.

  “Cold?” His brow quirked when he noticed her rubbing her arms.

  Rose saw the flash of his white teeth as he smiled at her. She would have spoken but doubted she could without her teeth clattering together. Now that the excitement had died down the practicalities of her situation had started to kick in. The cold night air had stolen all trace of her earlier warmth and replaced it with a bone deep chill she didn’t think she would ever be able to get rid of.

  “Just a little.” Even her breath quivered.

  Barnaby’s smile widened. He couldn’t see into the back of the carriage well enough to know if there was a blanket or something tucked away. With nothing else to use, he quickly removed his cloak and draped it around her shoulders. Sure enough, when his fingers brushed against the bare skin of her upper arms she was absolutely frozen.

  “We are going to have to stop and find shelter somewhere. It is too cold to be out on a night like this,” he murmured.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, and gave him a half-hearted smile as she tugged the edges of his cloak around her. When the soft material, still carrying his warmth, slipped over her shoulders she was immediately encased in blissful heat that made her sigh in delight. She hadn’t realised how cold she
was until then. Now that she was protected from the chill she tried to think of something else to do to garner some heat.

  “What do we do now? We can’t keep driving through the night and there is nothing else around here,” Rose asked.

  Barnaby mentally swore when he saw the distance they had managed to put between them and the town. It wasn’t far enough to shake off Chadwick’s men if they chased on horseback. It was too risky to stop yet it was equally dangerous to keep going. Unfortunately, they were now out on the country lanes, the low-lying hedges of which afforded them little protection against the elements or the people using the only main road in and out of town.

  One of them might be Chadwick, Barnaby mused as he studied what he could see of the road behind them. Shadows darted all about but he had no ability to identify if they were a trick of the night or someone following.

  “Do you know the area?” Barnaby murmured as he studied the landscape for villages they could go to.

  “No. I know this road leads us to Todbury, but I only saw brief glances of the landscape as we have travelled past earlier this evening,” Rose replied. “I don’t know if there is anywhere we can stop around here.”

  Barnaby nodded.

  “You didn’t answer me by the way. Who are you?” She prompted when she realised he had yet to tell her who awaited him in London.

  “I can’t go into that right now,” Barnaby replied. He knew from the look on her face that she was about to protest and held up a placatory hand. “It isn’t that I don’t want to, I just cannot risk someone being able to overhear me even out here. I promise I will tell you everything as soon as I can but not right now.”

  Rose had to concede defeat. If she was honest, and it galled her to admit it, but he had gotten them out of numerous scrapes since the murders. Had she been left on her own she probably wouldn’t even be alive by now.

  “Tell me about your parents, Rose,” Barnaby urged her when he couldn’t stand the silence a moment longer. He had no idea why it was grating on him but he actually wanted her to talk to him.