Damsel in Distress? Read Online Free PDF Page A

Brown has instructed me to tell you everything in hopes it will jog your memory.” Philip reached for her hand and Harriet clung to it as his words rolled over her.
    “They surprised you. They somehow managed to get in front of your horse when you thought they were still behind you. One of them shot your horse. I imagine some of your injuries are from the fall you took then. The rest of your injuries are courtesy of what happened next. One of the men searched you for something and then raised his pistol and pressed it against your head. You were conscious then, as I saw you moving. I yelled out as loud as I could. I couldn’t stand there and watch them murder a woman, but I didn’t have anything to defend you with either. So I yelled. Luckily, they heard me and instead of killing you, he kicked you hard in the head. I imagine your head is tender from that. When I got to you, you were not awake, but you revived a short time later and together we managed to make it here, to my home. My sister also resides here, so you needn’t worry over any damage to your reputation.”
    “Thank you.” Her voice sounded rough even to her ears. She looked at the man beside her and she wondered if he had stayed by her side the entire time she had been asleep. “Thank you,” she said again although she suspected that it didn’t convey the gratitude she was feeling for the man at the moment.
    “I only wish I could have protected you from those men. I will never forgive myself for not reaching you sooner. If I had, maybe I could have stopped them from harming you. I am so sorry about that. I will make sure that’ll never happen again. As long as you are with me, I swear no harm will come to you.”
    “You risked your life for me. How can I ever repay you?”

Chapter 8
    Three men gathered in the back room of a house. The candles shone from the windows in the front rooms, casting welcoming light onto the street below, but here in the back, the curtains were drawn tight and the men gathered by the light of only one candle.
    “You should have killed the Princess when you had the chance, Pete,” One of the men whispered. It wasn’t his house and he didn’t want to attract the attention of the servants. He was dressed, as were his companions, in his evening finery. The white of his shirt picked up the light of the candle and glowed into the darkness of the room.
    Peter snorted low in his throat. “There was a witness, Charlie, if you failed to notice, so unless you want to leave dead bodies all over London, I suggest we do this my way.” He drew in on his cigar, sucking in his cheeks to fill his lungs with smoke. “Besides”, he said blowing smoke rings into the air, “we need the Princess alive, she didn’t have the papers on her and she is the only one who knows where they are.”
    “She delivered them already, you think?” Charlie asked.
    Harry, the third man in the group, walked away from them and started looking at the books in the small bookshelf against the far wall. Peter quirked an eyebrow at him. He hadn’t hired him for his brains, but rather for his bulging muscles. Peter didn’t even know Harry could read.
    Getting Harry to come out in public, especially to events such as this with high society present, was nearly impossible. Harry was a great hulk of a man, standing head and shoulders over everyone else, and easily recognisable.
    Strains of music drifted through the closed door of their hiding place, indicating they needed to wrap up their meeting and head back out to the ballroom before they were missed.
    Peter turned his attention back to Charlie. “We can only assume she was unsuccessful in her delivery. For one, she would’ve returned instead of running and two, nothing has happened. You know as well as I, there will be consequences if she is successful.”
    “You’re sure you searched her well enough? What about her horse, she could have stashed them in its saddle.” Charlie pulled at the tightly knotted