Free Moonstruck Madness by Laurie McBain Page B

Contessa leaned forward expectantly. "Bene, we are here at last."
    The Duke frowned and made to look out the curtained window when the door was thrown violently open and a breath of cold, wet air rushed in. "What the—" Lucien began.
    "Stand and deliver!" a voice called from outside and before Lucien could reach for the pistol strapped to the side of the coach, the other door was swung open and a large man holding two pistols pointed them threateningly at the occupants of the coach.
    "Dio miol" the Contessa cried, cringing backward as Maria screamed in terror and fell across her lap in a dead faint.
    "Ah, we've ladies present, have we now?" the voice speculated with amusement. "If the gentlemen will remove themselves from the carriage for just a moment, we won't keep them longer than it takes to relieve them of their purses," the highwayman invited politely.
    The Duke looked at the pistols pointed at his heart, and shrugging at the Contessa's frightened face and Lord Wrainton's outraged one, he climbed from the carriage, pausing briefly as he saw the tartan sash of the highwayman before stepping carefully into the muddy roadway.
    "Well, well, if it isn't my scar-faced friend from the party. You do have the misfortune of being in the wrong place at the right time for me," Bonnie Charlie laughed.
    The coachman and grooms were standing nervously on the other side of the road, their weapons in a pile in the middle of the road and under guard of the highwayman's other large companion. In the growing twilight it was becoming difficult to distinguish details, everything turning palely indistinct in the fading light.
    "Would our other fine gentleman care to join us?" Bonnie Charlie asked, feeling a need to hurry.
    Lord Wrainton climbed slowly from the coach, the collar of his greatcoat turned up to protect him against the light drizzle that fell and his cocked hat shadowing his features as he stood nervously beside the Duke.
    "Now, what will we be donating to the cause today? A few golden guineas would not come amiss. After all, no gentleman of means travels without a full purse. Hand it over," Bonnie Charlie demanded, hardly glancing at the man who stood beside the tall Duke.
    Lucien reached into his coat, his hand disappearing beneath the thick material.
    "Carefully, lad. I'd hate to ruin your finery," the highwayman cautioned as he watched Lucien remove his purse and toss it over to him. "And your friend?"
    The Marquis handed over his purse with ill grace, cursing under his breath as he did so.
    "Now, if we might have a look at the ladies and see if they would care to share their wealth with those not as fortunate?"
    Bonnie Charlie waved Lucien aside, staying out of the aim of Will's pistol, which was trained on the two gentlemen, and glanced inside the coach.
    The Contessa was fanning Maria frantically, trying to revive her, when she looked up into the face of the masked bandit.
    "Din!" she whispered, beginning to fan herself instead.
    "You're not English," Bonnie Charlie commented regretfully as he eyed the milky pearls around her neck, "so I'll leave you your lovely pearls and take only your earrings. As the other lady is insensible and obviously unadorned, I shan't trouble her."
    The highwayman bowed, a grin on his lips as the Contessa stared in bemused silence at this gentleman of the road. "Arrivederci."
    Backing from the opened door of the coach, Bonnie Charlie turned to confront the Duke, whose coat was dampened from the misty rain that was beginning to fall more heavily.
    "My apologies for keeping you standing in the rain," Bonnie Charlie mocked, his own clothes covered by a black greatcoat that enveloped his figure warmly. "You may both get aboard, and I trust I haven't inconvenienced you too greatly, although it is a pity that you must look the fool in front of so lovely a lady. Better that, however, than a foolish attempt to fight me and find oneself dead. Yes, far wiser to play the fine gentlemen and return to the