Notorious Atherton by Patricia Rice

Author:Patricia Rice
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Book View Cafe
Published: 2013-08-16T17:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

Nick saw the war horse galloping up the drive and didn’t know whether to sigh in relief that reinforcements had arrived or cower behind the shrubbery for fear Quent would take the scene the wrong way. Surrounded by feminine pulchritude wielding smoking pistols, Nick realized there wasn’t any right way to take it.

Quent’s female relations merely glanced up at the sound of the giant beast’s flying hooves and returned to their relentless barrage. They’d decorated the targets Nick had set up with drawings and wielded weapons as fast as he could load them. Nick assumed the sketches represented the men in their lives to whom they were currently ill disposed. Fortunately, neither Quent nor Nick were in that category, because the aims of the Scots ladies were quite good.

“I think I recognized Thornton before she blew his nose off,” Quent said nonchalantly as he dismounted and examined the riddled sketches. “Is there a problem here?”

Princess Troublemaker materialized at Nick’s side, blowing at the barrel of her smoking pistol. “Good afternoon, Lord Quentin,” she said in a lofty tone not replicating the laughing one she’d used all afternoon. “We are preparing to defend ourselves should enemy spies attack. Where are my royal guards?”

Nick bit back a grin at the juxtaposition of guards and shooting spies and let Quent deal with her for a change. His lordship might have a difficult time telling the impecunious widow from the royal maiden if Nora maintained this imperious role.

“Your guards have some idea you are hiding in the baggage wagon with the maids and are extremely displeased,” Quent said, making his bow. “If this scene is for their benefit, I doubt it will make them any happier.”

“It’s a pity then that they are such laggards. It is almost time to dress for dinner. Perhaps we could take pistols with us to our chambers,” she suggested, with mischief in her eyes.

“I don’t recommend giving my sisters pistols,” Nick said. “They’ve proved themselves very bad shots and will more likely shoot off their own toes or mine. I’ll clean up the weapons if you’ll chase the lot of them back to the house.”

She eyed the old dueling pistol with resignation. “It is too difficult to load in any case. I’ll look through the sword collection instead.”

Before he could loudly voice his protest, she danced off to lead her little lambs astray. Nick shot Quent a look of misery. “She’s an anarchist. We’ve set an anarchist on Boney’s intended throne. You’d best bring word that the real crown has been found.”

“If our men have the right female, she’s been seen with a man in Brighton. They’re looking for transportation to Portsmouth. I’ve sent a word of warning to Portsmouth. I have men checking all ships before they sail from Brighton, but we can’t check all the coaching inns as well.”

Nick ran his hand through his hair, smelled the gunpowder, and winced. He would not become involved any more than he already was. “If it’s Portsmouth she wants, she’s running away to the Americas.

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