the only way to do so was to get back to what was truly important: helping those less fortunate. Only her good works could restore her faith in the world and drive the bitterness away. She might not love Mr. Dover, but their wedding would take her off the marriage mart and allow her to focus on what mattered.
Then she could restore her faith in herself and in the essential goodness of man. She could be optimistic again and see love in the world.
But not if she allowed Lord Blackthorne into her life. He was just as his name implied, and if she opened her heart to him even an inch, he would infect her with his poison.
She'd been a fool to kiss him, a fool to make herself vulnerable. He was callous and selfish. She did not need him in her life.
A tiny voice from deep inside her whispered,
Perhaps he needs you.
"No," she said aloud and shook her head. She couldn't save everyone. She didn't want to save Lord Blackthorne. Right now, she could hardly save herself.
"No?" Blackthorne said, jolting her out of her thoughts. "So your first few proposals did not bother you?"
"Actually, sir, I was saying no to this conversation. You and I have nothing in common, and I'm sorry to say that I am glad of it."
He did not respond, and Maddie wondered if she'd hurt his feelings. She hadn't wanted to upset him, but she needed to distance herself from him.
"Village up ahead," Lord Nicholas called from behind them. "Dover says it could be Stevenage. We should proceed with caution."
"Too late for that, Martingale," a voice said from the darkness on Maddie's right. "We 'ave you now."
Chapter Eight
Jack froze, and his first thought was for Lady Madeleine. Why had he insisted she ride with him? Now she was as much a target as he.
"Come down off those 'orses, 'ands in the air," the man said.
Jack didn't recognize the voice. It could have been one of Maddie's father's men, or someone from the last village, or—and he prayed this wasn't the case—Bleven's men.
"You're wasting your time," Nick called from behind Jack. "We don't have any money or valuables. Go back and wait for a carriage."
"Ah, but Lord Nicholas. It is Nicholas, isn't it?"
Jack closed his eyes at this new voice. It was high-pitched, refined, and menacing. He'd know it anywhere.
"Now that we have you," the Duke of Bleven continued, "our wait has been well worth it. Not wasted time at all."
A man stepped out from the forest concealing the other men, his rifle pointed straight at them.
Jack had no way of knowing how many other weapons were aimed at them.
"Damn," he heard Nick swear. "Jack?" he said softly.
"We're going to climb down," Jack told Bleven. If only he could see the duke or his men, then he could gauge the odds. As it was, he had no idea what they were facing. "We have two ladies with us. They have nothing to do with what's between us. You have to let them go."
Bleven laughed. "I don't
have
to do anything, Lord Blackthorne. Now get on the ground before I shoot the lot of you."
"Don't shoot! Don't shoot!" Dover called. "I can't get down. I'm tied on my horse."
"I'll get you," Nick called.
Jack had no choice except to lower Lady Madeleine first, making her vulnerable. But he swung down beside her as quickly as he could. He pushed her behind him, so he was protecting her from the front and the horse was at her back. If anything happened to her, he would never forgive himself.
And he was quite good at not forgiving himself.
In the filtered moonlight, Jack saw Nick lower Miss Brittany, then pull her with him as he went to untie Dover.
Dover promptly slid off his horse and crumpled to the ground, whimpering something about "hopelessly behind schedule."
"How does that man know your name?" Lady Madeleine whispered in Jack's ear.
Jack clenched his jaw. He'd been afraid she was going to ask him that. "We're old friends," he said vaguely.
"Interesting friends you have."
" 'Ands up!" Bleven's man called.
Jack obliged. Why the hell hadn't he thought to bring a
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