But Blackthorne didn’t beat Dover senseless. Instead, he nodded in agreement.
Maddie blinked in surprise. She knew a man like Blackthorne wasn’t intimidated in the least by the likes of Mr. Dover, who though taller than Blackthorne, possessed nothing of Blackthorne’s obvious strength or wiles.
But Blackthorne seemed to respect Dover. Either that or he couldn’t be bothered by him. “I have no intention of becoming any more familiar with the lot of you,” Blackthorne said. “Good-bye, and good riddance.”
With that, he opened the carriage door and stepped into the ambush.
Chapter Four
Jack felt the cold metal of the pistol at his temple before he saw the man holding it.
“Who the hell are you? And what are you doing with my daughter?”
“I didn’t touch her,” Jack protested. It wasn’t the first time he’d said it, but this time it was definitely true.
He had stepped out of the carriage and was facing a small shop with a slab of meat painted on the sign above. He didn’t dare turn his head—no need to make his attacker nervous—so he continued to stare at the slab of meat.
It wasn’t a comforting picture.
“I saw you step out of this carriage, and I saw my daughter get inside. If you put just one of your grubby fingers on her—”
“I didn’t even look at her. I swear,” Jack said. Well, now that wasn’t exactly true, but at this point Jack wished he hadn’t looked at Lady Madeleine.
Wished he’d never even heard of the chit.
He didn’t have much hope that Lady Madeleine’s father would believe him. Fathers of girl children were a notoriously bad sort. He had seen even the sanest, most reasonable men turn daft when it came to their daughters.
The best he could hope for was that Lord Castleigh would shoot him in the head. Then it would be over quickly.
All over.
Unless he could figure out a way to distract Castleigh . . .
Where the devil was Nicholas? Probably halfway back home by now. That was gratitude for you.
“Sir,” Jack said, trying to buy time, “it was an honest mistake. I stepped into the wrong carriage. I had no idea your daughter was inside or that she was eloping to Gretna Green.”
“Gretna Green!” the man exploded.
Jack winced as the pistol slammed into his temple. Perhaps he shouldn’t have mentioned Gretna?
“I’m not involved. That’s why I’m getting out here. I don’t want to marry your daughter.”
“What’s wrong with my daughter?”
Bloody hell, he couldn’t say the right thing today. “Nothing. She’s lovely.”
The pistol dug deeper. If he survived this, he would kill Nicholas. Bloody coward bastard!
“She’s lovely, but I don’t want to marry her. Or any woman!”
“Yes, he does, Papa!” a familiar voice called from the carriage. “That’s my fiancé, and if you shoot him, I will never forgive you.”
“What?”
Pistol be damned, Jack couldn’t stop himself from turning to look at the speaker.
The blonde smiled sweetly at him from the open window of the carriage.
