Why, One-Eyed Jack was no more than a lad and not a very sturdy one at that. The boy’s long legs were encased in snug breeches that might have been painted on. A dark swallow-tailed coat hugged a trim waist and slim hips. Under more congenial circumstances, Anthony might have found himself asking the young man for the name of his tailor.
One-Eye slipped the driver’s weapon into his coat pocket. Squaring his narrow shoulders, he sauntered toward them, his own pistol held awkwardly in his gloved hand.
Eyes wide, Phoebe turned to Anthony. “For pity’s sake, don’t let him ravish me.”
One-Eyed Jack halted a few paces in front of them, and Phoebe swayed. Lantern light showed the boy’s cheeks to be as smooth as a newborn’s. The fragile felon wasn’t even old enough to shave. Anthony suppressed a chuckle, confident that Phoebe would survive the adventure with her well-guarded virginity intact.
“Good evening, milord, milady.”
“I am One-Eyed Jack, first knight of these roads,” the lad informed them in a low, husky voice.
“So I gathered,” Anthony replied, amused by the display of adolescent braggadocio.
The aging Goliath unwedged the pistol from the small of Anthony’s back and stepped in front of him, proffering a hat.
“Yer purse and be quick about it, guv.”
Careful to keep his pistol concealed inside his jacket, Anthony removed his purse. He dropped the small leather satchel into the hat. When the gunman grunted toward the gold pocket watch dangling from his waistcoat, Anthony obligingly parted with it as well.
One-Eyed Jack smiled at Phoebe. Two rows of even, white teeth flashed in the darkness. “Now your turn, milady.”
“M-me? But I have no valuables.”
Both footpads stared at the beaded reticule dangling from her wrist.
“Oh this?” Her voice trembled. “But this is just pin money.”
“In that case, you should have no problem parting with it,” the boy sneered.
Sniffling, Phoebe slipped the reticule off and tossed it into the crown of the hat.
The boy aimed a forefinger at her throat. “I’ll have that necklace as well.”
She turned pleading eyes on Anthony. “Great Grandmama’s pearls. I was to wear them at our wedding. All the Tremont brides do.”
Anthony’s gaze never left the boy’s face. “I promise I shall retrieve them for you ere then, my dear. With any luck, you shall have them to wear to this lad’s hanging.”
He had the satisfaction of seeing the boy’s pupil dilate, nearly filling the turquoise iris of his uncovered eye.
Anthony’s satisfaction proved short-lived.
One-Eyed Jack stepped up to Anthony. He lowered the pistol barrel over Anthony’s trouser front and cocked the hammer.
“Your lady’s jewels in exchange for the family jewels. Seems a fair trade to me.” He poked the pistol into Anthony’s manhood.
Anthony swallowed hard. One-Eyed Jack was soft as new cheese, but he knew how to hit a fellow where it hurt. He’d underestimated the boy, a mistake he’d not make the next time they met.
“Phoebe, do as he says,” Anthony ordered in a low, determined voice.
“But …”
“I’d suggest you get your lady bird in hand, milord.” The boy grinned. “Otherwise you’ll be able to do her scant service in the future.”
Anthony looked down at the weapon lodged between his legs and silently prayed that One-Eyed Jack didn’t have an itchy trigger finger.
“For God’s sake, Phoebe, I’ve had this a damned sight longer than you’ve had those blasted pearls,” he snapped when she still hesitated.
Phoebe reached behind and unfastened the necklace’s clasp. She dropped the pearls into One-Eyed Jack’s open palm, tears striping her pale cheeks.
One-Eye removed the weapon and stuffed the pearls into his coat pocket. “If ’tis any consolation, milady, these baubles will be put to good use. And,” he added with a wicked grin, “I have left your lord his to console you.”
“To the carriage, the lot o’ ye, and be quick about it.” The elder highwayman gave Masters a shove toward the coach.
The driver’s knees buckled.
“For the luv of …” The hulk turned to Anthony. “Don’t just stand there. ’Elp ’im.”
Anthony shrugged even as his brain calculated his odds of success. “Can’t I’m afraid. Bad back.”
Cursing, the highwayman slung Masters’s limp arm around his beefy neck and lugged him toward the coach.
Phoebe lost no time in responding to the directive. She picked up her skirts and fled.
One-Eyed Jack’s gaze darted between Anthony and the coach.
“W-why are you still standing ’ere?” He gestured to the coach with his pistol. “Go … now.”
Smiling, Anthony advanced a step. “But I’ve no wish to end this encounter … just yet.”
Anthony lunged forward. Locking both arms around the boy’s spare torso, he slammed him to the ground. He pinned One Eye’s slender wrists above his head and squeezed. The pistol slipped from the highwayman’s grasp.
“Let go!”
Even for a stripling, the boy was delicate as a sparrow, not nearly sturdy enough for such rough pursuits. Easily securing the joined wrists with one hand, Anthony pocketed the pistol.
He smiled maliciously into the frightened face, just inches below his own. “Well, my fine lad, alone at last.” He clamped his palm over the boy’s mouth. “What, nothing to say?”
The taunt seemed to bring his captive to life. His fingers curled into fists, his arms straining to break Anthony’s hold.
Laughing, Anthony remarked, “Well, One-Eyed Jack, for a fierce knight of the road, you certainly fight like a girl.”
Like a girl.
Anthony stared down at his prisoner, examining the small, flushed face beneath the hat with a critical eye. The features were as finely wrought as those of a Dresden china figurine, the uncovered eye lushly lashed and set beneath a delicately arched brow. Could it be that Jack was really a Jacqueline in disguise? The body beneath his felt soft in all the right places. He uncovered his captive’s mouth in order to better examine the softly curving lips.
“Get off me this instant, y-you … you big bully!”
Intrigued, Anthony replied, “All in good time, my little highwayman. But first, I think I’ll have a closer look at you.”
A Hint of Heather
© 2000 Rebecca Hagan Lee
ISBN: 0515129054
JOVE
Ed♥n
Rebecca Hagan Lee, A Hint of Heather
(Series: # )
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