The Highwayman's Bride Read Online Free PDF Page A

time I left. Your wound has dried, so you will be in good health.”
    “You would leave a blind man alone to the vagaries of…where are we exactly?”
    “The village of Langton Howe, I believe. You need rest, that’s all. And time.”
    Time. Aiden wasn’t sure he had much time. Word was out that the man he sought, the criminal Florian Nash, was on the move, and if he lost track of him now it would take weeks to flush him out again.
    “Before you go, I trust you would check that the doctor is on his way?”
    Her hesitation was potent. He reached out to her. “Miss Stanhope?”
    “I will,” she finally replied. “Then I must go. Do you have family, someone to send a message to?”
    Aiden nodded. Family. Oh yes, he had family. His life on the road was all because of family. “If you arrange for the innkeeper to attend me, I will request he send a messenger,” he instructed.
    “Very well.”
    Aiden heard her footfall lead in the direction of where he thought the door was, and then halt.
    “I…wish you well, Aiden. I am sure that once you heal, your sight will return.”
    “So you do not regret your actions?”
    “No, I do not. We each must do what we need to survive.”
    “Tess?”
    “Nay, do not ask me more questions, ones I will not answer. I bid you good day, sir.”
    And with that, the most interesting highway robber Aiden had ever met exited their small room, closing the door behind her, leaving a deafening silence and him alone with his worries.
    Lord, he desperately needed to get his sight back.
    For too many weeks he’d paced the roads between London and the coast, waiting for his prey to make a move. He wouldn’t let Nash get away with what he’d done. This was about justice for his sister, Mary, and Aiden would not sleep until he’d found the bastard and exposed him for the lowlife he was.
    A sudden sharp pain jabbed viciously into his skull and forced him to close his sightless eyes. He clutched his head with both hands and cursed brutally when the pain refused to let up.
    He tried to reopen his eyes, but each time blinding flashes arced across the hollow darkness and the pain exacerbated a thousand-fold.
    Pushing himself up on the balls of his feet, he twisted away from the table, knocking the chair to the ground in the process.
    Where to? And how?
    Fear strangulated his airways. Alone. And blind. The battlefields had been easy compared to this. At least there he could see.
    Straightening, he shoved his hands out in front of him, imitating the blind beggars on London’s poverty-filled streets. Feet shuffling across the floor, he came up against a wall, then using it as a guide, he sidestepped his way around the room.
    Where was it?
    Sweat doused his body, his head pounded and his heart hammered. His foot kicked at something hard. The bed? Searching in his new darkness, his fingers trailed across the thin mattress.
    Success! He exhaled a relieved sigh and slumped down on the bed, never more grateful in his life to rest.
    Seconds later a tap sounded on the door and Aiden quickly fingered his pistol beneath his tailcoat. “Enter.”
    “You wanted to see me, sir?”
    In an effort to veil his inability to see, Aiden turned to the voice of the innkeeper. “Yes.” He nodded, determined to keep his tone level. “I have a message to send to my home. Do you have a reliable horse and rider who would take it?”
    “Aye, young Frankie would be good. He goes like the wind on his mount.”
    “Would he perchance know the streets of London’s West?”
    “Aye. Not many hereabouts do, but Frankie is me sister’s boy. She got sick with the new babe, an’ all, so Frankie came to stay with me and the missus.”
    “Good.” Aiden dug into the pocket of his tailcoat, feeling the hard edge of a guinea. “Send the boy up, Mr…” He hesitated.
    “Jake Youngman, sir.”
    “Well, Mr. Youngman, I have a job for Frankie.”
    Left alone again, an exhausted Aiden sank back on the bed, his pain no less. Lowering