Princess of Fortune by Miranda Jarrett

Author:Miranda Jarrett [Jarrett, Miranda]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance
ISBN: 9781460856253
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2004-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

Though she had only a fraction of a second to decide, Isabella knew she had two choices when the man dropped into the carriage beside her. She could tremble with terror and shriek piteously for help like a proper English lady, or she could be a true Fortunaro princess, and fight back.

It wasn’t really a choice at all.

The man was large, heavyset enough to make the carriage pitch and buck, and in his hand he held a long-bladed knife. She could see his muffled mouth smile beneath the grimy scarf, and the confidence in his eyes proved he’d already decided she was his for the taking.

He was wrong.

As he reached out to grab her, she smacked the parasol as hard as she could up into his chin. The bamboo handle cracked across his jaw, shattering in a tangle of painted silk and bent spokes across his face that made him topple back against the seat.

Furiously he threw it aside, swearing at her in Italian— Italian?—but Isabella had already hiked up her skirts and scrambled out of the carriage, running to the pavement beneath the shelter of the scaffolding. If only she could reach the crowd gathered around the horses, if only she could join the safety of the others!

But then the second man dropped down in front of her, jerking from side to side like a tattered crab to block her path as she tried to dodge around him. With each step he was forcing her back, until she bumped against the rough brick of the unfinished wall. No one would see her now; she was trapped in this corner, hidden by the stacks of lumber and brick. Fighting her panic, she groped blindly behind her, searching for a way out.

“Lost something?” The man wiggled his fingers, taunting her. “Something dear?”

“You let me go!” she ordered, her voice shaking. “You cannot keep me here!”

“Oh, yes, I can,” he said, laughing at her. “I’m doing it now, ain’t I?”

“You do not laugh!” cried Isabella furiously. She grabbed a short board from the pile left by the carpenters. “No one laughs at me!”

Using both hands, she swung the board with all her force, striking the man squarely in the chest. He grunted and staggered a step, giving her time to look back over her shoulder toward the carriage. She had a swift glimpse of Darden crashing swords with the third man, both of them struggling to stay upright in the rocking landau with the crowd now watching them instead of the horses—and instead of her.

But Darden had defended her after all, she thought with guilty surprise, and he was doing it with considerable skill, too. She could only pray he wouldn’t have to pay for his chivalry on her account.

Not that she had time now even to pray for herself, not when the man in front of her was finished laughing.

“You’re no better than the rest of your litter.” He tore away his mask, not caring that she’d see his face now.

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