A Rose Between the Thornes Read online

  Her lunch at The Spire, a pretty coaching inn, just over half way to her destination, was partaken in a private parlor. Well known to the host and his wife, Sophia lunched well, and dallied rather longer than she had intended. It was past three in the afternoon before she made her farewells and set off, knowing she would still arrive at her destination in daylight. Just.

  She sat happily, half dozing—for The Spire’s luncheons were renowned for their excellence—as the coach continued toward its destination. Once at Midwood, she would ask for a bath to be drawn. Travelling, even in such a well-sprung coach as she was in, tired her. Sophia yawned and stretched, wishing the aches in her body were for a more pleasurable reason. The thought made her wonder just what her two suitors—she knew not what else to call them except annoyances—were doing about collecting their debt. Exasperated, she felt that familiar tingle run through her body, dampening her curls, peaking her nipples as she thought of those—yes she admitted it—exciting young men. Did they really want someone such as her? Older, perhaps not wiser, and, she was sure, nowhere near as experienced. She hoped so. With a sigh, she closed her eyes to enjoy her enforced period of idleness.

  A shot rang out.

  The coach lurched and Sophia was caught unawares. She slid to the floor, as it came to an abrupt halt. Outside she heard a voice commanding her coachman to see to the cattle.

  Do I recognize that voice? She struggled to move from her inelegant position on the floor. The carriage door flung open.

  Chapter Three

  Sophia could not believe her eyes; surely it was a jape? For a fleeting second she wondered if Hermione or her men had discovered her solo journey, and set out to frighten her? But no, it seemed not.

  The masked man confronting her had not the physique of Berry or Ran, but she felt sure he was no rough and ready highwayman. One swift glance at his hands told her that. They were smooth and unlined—a gentleman’s hands.

  He gestured with his pistol, indicating she should exit the carriage. The pistol was an elegant piece by Manton, akin to the one now concealed in her cloak.

  “My lady.” The voice was low, surely disguised? “Please allow me to help you alight from the carriage.”

  Sophia looked at him, eyes hooded behind the mask, clothing covered by an all-enveloping cloak. “No,” she said. “I think not.”

  His shoulders shook, as she contemplated him. What was so amusing?

  “Do you wish me to drag you, my lady? For of a surety I will do so if you do not comply with my wishes.” His pistol pointed at her.

  “No,” she repeated. “And no.” How long would they continue? She was sure he had no intention of shooting her, for if he wanted a hostage she would be of no use to him dead.

  “My lady.” Now the tone was menacing. “You will step out of this carriage now.”

  Oh, for heaven’s sake, does he not understand my refusal?

  “Dear sir,” she said and tried to sneer although sadly she thought she was not very successful. It seemed the ability to sneer was not in her make up. “I said I would not, and I always mean what I say.”

  “As do I. Now step out before I manhandle you, tie you, and blindfold you.” He leaned toward her. Sophia leaned back slightly. As interesting as tied and blindfolded sounded, she thought it was neither the time nor the place to explore those possibilities. She lowered her eyes, as, with one hand holding the pistol, he used his other to take hold of the hem of her dress and tug.

  “Oh, this is ridiculous. Let go, let me go, and grow up. For there is no way you are a highwayman. Your whole demeanor shouts gentleman.” She was fast losing her patience. “Do cease this silliness, and let me go on my way.”

  His answer was to step inside the coach and reach for her. Sophia moved to the far side of the coach, and fumbled in her pocket.

  “Sir, either leave me, or be shot.” Does my voice sound as commanding as I hoped?

  He laughed. “With what, my lady, your reticule?”

  The gall of the man. She released her hand from her coat and fired.

  At the same instant a hand snaked through the window she had moved against and grabbed her arm, pulling it sideways, spoiling her shot. Instead of a making a hole in the side of the carriage as she intended, she had made a hole in her assailant. Her intention had been to startle, not maim with that shot. Her second pistol would have been used if necessary with murderous intent.

  The highwayman cursed, swayed, and fell forwards, pinioning her firmly by her skirt. His gun fell onto the floor, not within her reach. To her horror, Sophia discovered she couldn’t stretch to where her spare pistol was hidden. The hand on her arm tightened cruelly, and then she was free as the door opened and she fell neatly backward into someone’s arms. There was the sound of material tearing, and she saw the skirt of her dress part company from the bodice. Chagrin filled her as she remembered she had deigned not to wear a chemise, but to enjoy the freedom of wearing nothing under her dress. How she now rued that decision.

  Her captor laughed. “A shapely pair of legs my dear. And a cunt to bury myself in. ‘Twill be a joy to feel those legs wrapped around my torso as my cock fucks you until you forget your name. Now forgive me, for I must do this.”

  Do what? She opened her mouth to ask. A cloth was pushed into it, making her gag. She felt pressure on her neck. “Whmmpf...”

  ***

  Finally, she’d stopped struggling. How on earth were we to know she’d put up such a struggle? He felt sure he had gouges on his neck where she had managed to claw him, before the pressure he exerted rendered her unconscious. Worried about Nathaniel, who he hoped was simply stunned, Jasper maneuvered her through the door and outside the coach. Once there, he moved with haste to where a nondescript, unmarked, black, carriage waited. He checked her coachman and footman were still securely tied and blindfolded before putting her on the seat, and treating her to similar ministrations. Only then did he make his way back to her coach. Nat was still lying on the floor, his head cushioned by an elegant skirt, although his eyes were open.

  “The bloody woman shot me,” he said incredulously. “Luckily tis only a flesh wound in my arm, but hell Jas, tis my fucking arm.”

  Jasper grinned, as he checked the wound. “I was sure you used your cock to fuck. Stop being a babe. It is but a scratch, you’ll live to fuck another day. You were lucky ‘twas not your cock, for I felt sure that was her intention. Can you stand?”

  Nat nodded, and smiled wryly. “Who would have believed me to be bested by a woman? I feel we are in for such treats as to be unimagined. Perhaps it would be wise to leave now, before we’re disturbed.”

  Jasper helped him out of the coach, and across the lane. Not ten miles from her home and even nearer to the hunting lodge they earmarked for this activity, they had chosen the spot for their hold-up perfectly. The lane was little used, and the most direct way to Midwood. Having followed Sophia on horseback for most of her journey, it had needed only a swift, cross-country, exhilarating ride to reach their destination, drive the coach to their chosen spot, and wait.

  “All has gone to plan perfectly until Sophia discharged her weapon.” Nat grumbled sotto voce as Jasper helped him to their coach. He waited until Jasper also seated himself inside. “I would have preferred for me to discharge my weapon into her, and I do not mean my pistol...well...” His eyes twinkled. “Not my Manton.”

  Jasper looked sympathetically at his twin. “Soon,” he replied. “Once you are capable.”

  Nat looked down at his pantaloons, snug and curved lovingly around a hard erect cock. “It seems my capabilities have not been compromised,” he retorted. “Not in that area at least. Damn, Jas, I seem to be dripping blood all over the squabs.” He indicated his arm where blood oozed slowly through the cloth of his coat. “Moving me has agitated this. Do you need to do anything else with her servants? For if not perhaps you could drive and I will watch our lady. How long will she be out?”

  Jasper sighed. “Not long enough I fear. Although,
trussed and tied you will have the advantage. One moment.” Swiftly he loosened the rag in her mouth. “I do not wish to suffocate her, and she is well unaware at the moment. If she squawks too much, ‘twil be up to you to silence her as you wish.” His hands moved around Sophia’s waist and secured her to the long, cushioned, bench by a silken cord. “No doubt she will fight and spit, but unsighted and immobile you will only need to ignore her voice, not dodge her blows. Now.” He jumped with agility from the vehicle. “I will attend to her coachmen and we will leave.”

  Swiftly he walked back across the lane to where Sophia’s coachman and footman had been left on the verge. It had been more than easy to waylay them, Jasper mused as he skirted a bush and came up behind them, even though their cooperation had been assured. He would have words with Sophia about her lack of security. It was all well and good saying the roads were safe, but he and Nat had proved otherwise. He uncoupled the horses and tied them to a tree not too distant.

  “My good men,” he spoke in a coarse voice, so unlike his own cultured tones. “You will find a knife nearby to cut your bindings. You will wait for five minutes before you do so. We will be watching.” Which was a stupid statement to make under proper circumstances, for who in their right mind would wait to see if their orders had been obeyed instead of making good their escape?

  “You’ll hang for this,” the coachman spoke angrily. “My lady will see to that. Robbing a poor defenseless woman.” It would have surprised Sophia if she had seen the wink that accompanied the statement.

  Jasper laughed. “Very probably,” he agreed affably. “Now remember five minutes; you will find the knife if you feel around for it.”

  The coachman nodded. “Did we do well, gov?”

  “You did, keep it up for a while longer.”

  Jasper placed a knife nearby and sprinted for the unmarked coach. He had no illusions about the men following his orders, and was sure they would immediately try to free themselves. Not that it would be difficult. The knots, the knife, the show of power were all part of an elaborate ploy to ensure the success of their endeavor. Even so they all needed to depart the scene.

  Luckily his cattle were well trained, swift of foot, and the coach lightweight.

  “All set?” he called softly as he collected the reins and urged the horses forward. A thump on the roof reassured him.

  Grinning, he whistled through his teeth, and took the side lane to their destination.

  Worried though he may be about his twin, with the unique empathy each had, he knew there really was no need to fret. Nathaniel was only slightly injured, his pride more hurt than his body. No, his biggest fear was just how Rose Sophia was going to react to her abduction, and all they suggest she participate in. Also, he thought—as he swung into a copse and calmed his cattle, waiting to see if there was any chase—not purely to repay her debts.

  After twenty anxious minutes with dusk falling, he decided all was safe. To be sure he drove carefully along a track barely wide enough, encouraging his horses, as they baulked at imagined horrors.

  Turning into the rear drive of their newly purchased hunting lodge—acquired, he admitted, with Sophia in mind— the coach lurched violently. He struggled to reach the building and therefore halt. The sway increased, the horses aware and restless.

  Ah ha! Had their lady woken up? She had.

  ***

  Sophia wondered why her room was so dark. Usually she left the window coverings open, enjoying the moonlight and then the sunrise. She tried to roll over, to see why it was so dark, and could not.

  “Don’t struggle, you will injure yourself.” The voice was low, too low to be recognizable. “You are restrained and unsighted. ‘Tis an amazing sight, if only those beautiful breasts were as bared as your cunt, my cup would overflow, as would my cock. In truth, it is taking all my determination not to bury myself in you, to taste you, and feel you wrap yourself around me.”

  What? That was fighting talk. The words brought moisture to her channel, and she felt the signs of her excitement dampen her curls. Sophia knew she should be disgusted at his frank words, fearful at her predicament, and be ready to protect herself. Why was she staying still, listening to that hypnotic, arousing, and enticing voice?

  “You feel it too, my love?” the unknown continued. “For I see your excitement, see those luscious lips as they call to me. Shall I anticipate our coupling, lap at that elixir, sip your juices until they flow freely and spill?’

  Her cunt clenched at his erotic words and the pictures they painted. Damn his eyes, he must have noticed, for his chuckle was sensuous in the extreme.

  “Ah, I wish I could, nothing would please me more.” That dark enticing voice spoke, and wrapped around her like a velvet cloak. “However, I fear I must delay that delight until later. We are but minutes away from our destination, and I...I...” She heard a thud, and then all was silent.

  Sophia struggled to loosen her ties, without success. She had no idea what had happened, but the complete silence was unnerving. She found her voice, annoyed she hadn’t realized her vocal chords were not paralyzed. Why did being unsighted make her think she was also unvocal?

  “Hey,” she shouted, suddenly aware of the rumble of wheels on stones, which would effectively drown out her cries. Frustrated, she moved her legs—tied together— and thrust them repeatedly on the side of the carriage. How she wished she could reach the roof. The coach lurched, and came to a halt.

  She swallowed, as all of a sudden she wondered if letting whoever else was in on the plot know she was awake was a wise decision. Perhaps it would have been better to lie low? However, she opined as it was too late now, she would have to be wary.

  There was the sound of the door opening. Sophia opened her mouth to shriek, speak—she had no idea which, and no time to find out—as a firm hand was placed over it.

  “Do not make a sound or I will silence you again,” she was warned. “What have you done to your companion?”

  How could she answer that, with a hand over her mouth, and oh my, a hand feathering over her cunt, ruffling her curls.

  “No fair, we share,” a faint voice reached her. She felt a rumble of what she thought was not a shudder, ripple through her captor. “I cannot participate, sadly,” the voice continued. “Not yet, therefore, do not steal a march on me.”

  To her relief, or perhaps disappointment, the pressure on her mound ceased as the hand moved and she realized she was no longer fixed in one position.

  “Harsh, but true. So my dear, as they say, anticipation is good for the soul.” A hand flexed over her mouth. “If I keep my hand away from you, will you stay silent? Wait to let me release your ties, move you from here, and see what ill you have given my b...compatriot? Nod if you agree.”

  She nodded. His hand moved a little.

  “Good, now love, we will begin to move somewhere more convenient for our activities.”

  “And your soul needs all the goodness it can get,” she said. “You and your conspirator should be shot.”

  “I was.” There was humor in the voice, and with a blinding flash of clarity, she knew.

  “I might have known! No one else would have the audacity to try such a trick except the Thorne’s. So who did I shoot and where? I can but hope it means I have curbed your excesses.” She heard a dry laugh.

  “Not really, love, just made our engagements a little more adventurous.”

  Why, why, had she not understood who was behind this earlier? Did her wits leave her along with her consciousness? Another thought struck her. “My coachman and footman, what did you do to them?”

  “They are safe.” One of them, she thought it was Jasper, reassured her. “Nothing harmed except their dignity. They will already be sounding the alarm for you. Not that it will be of any use. We hide our tracks well; we have had plenty of practice.”

  Hmm, although they may well be practiced, his previous statement rings false. Her new coachmen’s faces flashed through her mind. They substituted my men. How
I don’t know, but by god I will find out, and someone will suffer.

  “So, who did I hit and where?” she persisted. “Do untie me so I can see.”

  She found she could move forward, but not her arms or legs. Damn them; did they not trust her? With an inward smirk, she didn’t blame them. She would have moved, fast. Instead she leaned toward where she sensed someone was sitting? Standing? In her unsighted state she could not tell.

  “You hit my arm, luckily, not my cock, or my balls. They are still in good working order.”

  Even in her trussed up state she could not help but laugh. “Damn. My aim is not usually so poor. I aimed for your balls, Nathaniel,” she lied, and hoped he did not know.

  “Nat. And how do you know ‘tis I?” He sounded genuinely interested. “People know neither our voices nor our features apart.”

  “I do,” she said positively. “You eyes give you away in your features, and your cadence in your speech. As I cannot see your eyes, I listened, and knew by your voice.”

  There was silence. What was happening? She heard a groan, a quiet laugh, and then she was swinging through the air, a hand caressing her naked arse, as she felt her body put over one hard male shoulder.

  “Waaa? Put me down, what are you doing?” Her ankles may be tied but she could drum them hard on a hard male chest. “Stop it, Jasper, for if Nathaniel is injured ‘tis you who is subjecting me to this indignity.” Once more she moved her feet. Immediately they were held firmly. Before she had time to recover from that shock her arse was soundly spanked. Twice on each cheek.

  Sophia gasped and tried to ignore the gush of arousal that flowed into her. Her heart beat erratically, and the fine hairs on her arms stood on end. “How dare you. Unhand me this instant.” Her voice was nowhere near as steady as she would have liked.

  “Oh, we dare, my love.” Again she felt the sting of his hand on her, and to her dismay, she felt her juices gather.

  Jasper laughed. “You like that. I can feel your agreement as you dampen my hand.” His finger slipped between her legs and touched her nub. “Are you wet and wanting, Rose? Ready to feel us in you?”