Blackthorne's Bride

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Authors: Shana Galen
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was almost dark outside now, and the man standing in the doorway was in shadow.
    "All of you out. Hands up or I'll shoot you dead."
    Maddie rose quickly, to do as she'd been told, but Dover held her back and whispered, "Let me go first."
    He crawled out, hands in the air.
    "Where are the rest of you?" another male voice asked.
    "There are only two ladies inside," Dover said. "They are no threat. Let them be."
    "Get them out here now, or I'll go in and bring them out," the first man said.
    Ashley and Maddie exchanged a look, and then Maddie climbed out, hands in the air. Ashley followed, but she didn't put her hands up. Instead, she stood, braced her hands on her hips, and gave the men her most condescending look.
    "What is the meaning of this?" she said haughtily.
    Maddie looked at her in shock. There were two men on horseback and one standing beside his mount. He was at least fifteen stone, probably heavier, and his blunderbuss looked like an extension of his beefy arm. The other two men were armed likewise. All three looked angry enough to shoot.
    But Ashley didn't look the least bit afraid. She grabbed Maddie's upraised arms and pulled them down. The three men were staring at them, so Ashley spoke again.
    "Sir.
You,"
she said, pointing at the large man. "I asked what you think you're about. Chasing innocent women and shooting at unarmed travelers."
    The man's eyes widened in shock, and he opened his mouth, then looked to his friends for assistance.
    "Sir, I am speaking to you," Ashley demanded.
    "So sorry, miss," the beefy man sputtered. "And miss." He nodded to Maddie, and she blinked at the newly contrite look on his face. Why, the big man actually looked sorry.
    Of course, Ashley usually had that effect on men.
    "That's Lady Madeleine, not
miss,"
Ashley corrected him. "You are in the presence of an earl's daughter, so behave accordingly."
    Ashley would have said more, but Maddie reached over and pinched her. Next, Ashley would be telling everyone they were eloping. As it stood, these men would be able to help her father and his men immensely when he passed this way looking for her. Not only did they have her physical description, but they knew she was an earl's daughter as well.
    Her father was definitely going to catch them. And then he'd kill Mr. Dover and probably Blackthorne as well—though she shouldn't feel quite so anguished about that—and then her father would drag her home and she'd never be allowed to leave the house again and ...
    Oh, why had she ever decided eloping was a good idea?
    "I'm sorry, my lady," the beefy man said, "but yourn coachman dishonored me daughter. I'm not leaving until he returns and makes an 'onest woman of her." He looked back at his friends, who shifted their weapons menacingly.
    Maddie nodded regally. At least she hoped it looked regal. Her hair was loose and a lock of it fell in her eyes when she moved her head. But she had to remain calm if she was going to save everyone.
    "I
was informed of my— er, coachman's mishap once we were en route. But I'm told this is simply a misunderstanding. We might have been able to resolve the dispute had you not begun shooting."
    "An 'undred apologies, my lady," the big man said. "But it weren't no misunderstanding. Might we speak with your coachman now?"
    "Certainly."
    "Good. Where is 'e?"
    Maddie had been afraid he was going to ask her that. She'd seen no sign of Lord Nicholas or Lord Blackthorne since she'd stepped outside. Slowly, she turned to look at the coach. The box was empty, but she couldn't see on top of the roof. Surely both brothers couldn't have hidden up there without being spotted.
    But if they weren't on top of the carriage, they had to be—
    The howl that came from underneath the carriage confirmed her theory and sent her stumbling back in fear. In a blur, Blackthorne rushed at the men. At least she'd thought he was rushing for them. Instead, he grabbed her, pulled her arms behind her back and dragged her toward the panting

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