A Scandal By Any Other Name

Hamish looked up from the dirt. He saw Delaney standing near the confused, restless carriage horses. He knew she had to leave immediately.

With his free left hand, Hamish reached deep inside his shredded, bloody driving coat. His fingers fumbled for a second, feeling the warm, sticky blood, before they found the hedger and the parchment.

He pulled the highly important evidence out of his pocket.

Hamish raised his arm and threw the heavy ledger and the folded shipping manifest across the dirt road toward Delaney.

The book and the paper sailed through the cold air. They landed heavily in the brown dust, coming to a stop right near the hem of her ruined white dress.

"Miss Kingsley," Hamish gasped out.

Blood was dripping steadily from the corner of his mouth, trailing down his chin and mixing with the dirt on his face. He looked at her with pleading, urgent eyes.

"Please, go," Hamish begged her, his voice a low, rough rumble. "I will take it over from here."

Delaney stared at the brave guard. Tears of pure gratitude and terrible fear filled her eyes. "But..."

The hired driver yelled in absolute fury. He was enraged that the guard was still holding him back. He kept on hitting Hamish. He kicked the guard brutally again and again, his boots striking Hamish’s shoulders and back, desperately trying to break the iron grip on his leg.

Hamish ignored the terrible, sickening pain raining down on him. He tightened his jaw. He looked up at the hired thug with cold, dark deadly eyes.

"No one," Hamish spoke loudly.

His deep voice echoed fiercely over the sound of the howling wind. He spit a mouthful of dark blood from his lips onto the dirt. He gathered every single ounce of his remaining strength.

"No one touches Miss Kingsley!" Hamish roared.

With a sudden, massive surge of raw power, Hamish yanked his arm back violently.

He pulled the driver’s leg incredibly hard.

The sudden, brutal force swept the driver’s foot completely out from under him. The man lost his balance entirely. His arms flailed wildly in the air as he tried to catch himself.

The driver fell backward with a loud, heavy yell. He hit the hard, rocky dirt road with a sickening, terrible crack. The impact knocked the breath from his lungs, and he dropped his bloody knife.

Hamish did not hesitate for a single second. He seized the perfect, hard-won opportunity. He rolled over quickly, pushing through the intense, burning pain of his knife wounds. He climbed heavily on top of the stunned, fallen driver, using his body weight to pin the man to the dirt road.

Hamish raised his large, bloody fists. He did not hold back. He began to deliver repeated, massive, crushing blows directly to the driver’s bruised face. He hit the man over and over again with punishing force, ensuring the dangerous thug could not get back up to hurt the woman he was sworn to protect.

Delaney watched the violent, bloody scene for one brief, terrifying second. She knew Hamish had just given her the ultimate, final chance to escape. He had sacrificed his own safety to ensure she could complete her mission.

She could not waste his sacrifice.

Delaney bent down quickly. Her hands trembled as she snatched the ledger and the folded shipping manifest from the road. She brushed a thin layer of dust from the cover. She tucked the book and the thick papers securely and tightly into the bodice of her torn white wedding dress, pressing them flat against her skin so she would not drop them.

She turned and ran quickly toward the carriage.

The two strong carriage horses were completely restless. They were stamping their iron-shod hooves nervously against the gravel. They tossed their heads and snorted loudly, frightened by the loud shouting and the sudden movements.

Delaney approached the large animals slowly. She did not try to climb up into the high driver’s box. She knew she could not drive a carriage by herself. The wooden vehicle was too large, and she did not know how to manage the long leather reins for two horses simultaneously.

She ran directly to the front of the carriage, placing herself right between the two horses.

"Steady. Steady now," Delaney whispered softly.

Her voice was calm and soothing, despite the pure terror racing through her veins. She placed her hand gently on the warm, muscular neck of the nearest horse. She stroked the short brown hair, letting the animal feel her gentle touch to calm its panicked nerves.

She worked quickly and efficiently. Her hands were shaking badly from adrenaline, but her movements were highly deliberate.

She reached up to the harness holding the horses securely to the long wooden pole of the carriage and unbuckled the thick leather straps. She unhooked the metal chains and completely removed the complex harness connecting the strong right-side horse to the heavy wooden carriage.

She grabbed the riding reins of the freed brown horse and moved to the side of the large animal. She had a major problem. She did not have a proper leather riding saddle. She did not have a small mounting block to step on. She did not have proper, sturdy riding boots.

But she had absolutely no other choice. All these weren’t needed at the moment.

Delaney hiked up her torn, bloody silk skirts high above her knees. She exposed her plain white stockings and the empty, delicate lace garters where the silver pistols had been.

She grabbed the horse’s thick, dark brown mane tightly in her left hand. She placed her right hand firmly on the horse’s back.

With a great, painful effort that sent a sharp spike of agony shooting through her bruised ribs, she jumped.

She pulled herself up desperately. She threw her right leg completely over the bare back of the horse.

She sat up straight, straddling the massive animal completely bareback. She adjusted her bloody skirts, letting the torn silk fall around her legs.

She gripped the reins tightly in her right hand. She twisted her fingers into the horse’s coarse mane with her left hand to completely steady her balance.

She dug the heels of her shoes firmly and sharply into the sides of the strong horse.

"Go!" Delaney shouted loudly.

The horse neighed sharply, responding to her urgent command. The animal lunged forward, kicking up a cloud of dust behind it.

Delaney leaned low over the horse’s neck. She held on incredibly tightly as the animal broke into a fast, ground-eating, powerful gallop.

She rode away from the terrible, bloody scene in the isolated woods and straight to the House Of Lords.