Scoundrel With A Noble Heart (sequel of Disgraceful)

Chapter 8

Offering his hand to help her to her feet, Matthew looked up at the darkening sky.
"Since it's beginning to get dark, we better take shelter."

She looked around and frowned.
"I don't see any tavern or inn around here."

For the umpteenth time in less than a day, he sighed.
"Even if there happens to be any, we won't be able to afford it."

"Then where are we going to sleep tonight?"

A few hours later, Matthew folded his arms behind the head and gazed up into the night sky. A short distance from him, Arabella had settled herself under a tree. She turned her back on him, and after long minutes, she seemed to be falling asleep. As the night crept by, his mind wandered off. Jeremy. She called the name in delirium. Did she go a thousand miles to see him? Again he experienced a bitter pang of jealousy. He must be a man of the same class, a suitable match for her... But if so, why'd she travel in a common stagecoach without her maid and footman? Did she run away from home? Were her parents against their relationship?

His mind churned out many questions, but eventually exhaustion dragged him into slumber, only to be awakened by a sudden instinct a couple hours later.

The first thing that came to mind was to check on his companion. He rolled to his back, turning to glance at her resting spot. His heart plummeted to his stomach when he found her missing.

He sat up abruptly, but before he could think about anything else, he heard twigs cracking underfoot close behind him. He turned back and caught two figures coming out from behind the trees. Soon he recognized two of the men from his former gang. Quick as a flash, he jumped to his feet.

"Well, hello traitor." One of the men greeted him, his crooked teeth flashing in the shadow. Matthew took a few steps back when the men advanced on him. His mind struggled to find words to stall for time.
"Look, I can explain-"

"Shut up, you whoreson dog! You're so dead!"
One of the thugs pulled out a sword and launched himself toward him. Matthew darted just in time to dodge the deadly strike but the man pushed forward, almost throwing him off balance. Staggering, he struggled to fend the man off, and managed to knee the man in the stomach. With a blow to the lower arm, he knocked the sword from the man's grasp. The metal clang as it fell to the ground. Before Matthew could kick the weapon away, the thug wrestled him to the ground and grappled him around the throat, but Matthew managed to kick him off, sending him sprawling across the ground.

Spitting a vicious oath, the thug grabbed a rock the size of a brick and leaped to his feet. In a flash, the furious man lunged at him, swinging the rock into his head.

Without thinking, Matthew reached for the sword near him and struck. The blade pierced through the man's body with a sound that made him sick. The villain froze, his eyes started out in his head, his mouth opened in mute shock. A moment later, the man collapsed to the ground beside him, who could barely flutter an eyelid or draw a single breath.

He had never killed before, instantly shaken up and struck dumb. It didn't feel real. It felt like the force of surprise and his own momentum had carried the thing, not him. He stared unmoving when the other thug cursed and pointed his gun at him. His whole body was cold and numb with the anticipation of death.

Suddenly a loud, heavy thump cut through his benumbed senses. The thug thudded into the dusty ground, revealing a slender figure behind him.