Lois & Clark Forums Forums Fan Fiction Lois & Clark Fanfic The Masked Avenger (2/46)

Lavinia heard her father's frightened cries, but she was too occupied with trying to hang onto the runaway horse to reply. In the dimness of the forest, tree limbs and branches loomed up and past her, almost before she knew they were there, so she bent forward, low on the horse's neck, and clung to the pommel with all her strength. Once, the horse stumbled and Lavinia's heart leapt into her throat. Tied as she was to the saddle, there was no way she'd be able to roll free, so if the animal fell she would certainly be killed!

Behind her she could hear the sounds of pursuit, and presumed that one of the robbers was chasing after her. She wasn't sure which frightened her more--the runaway horse she was riding, or what that robber might do to her once he caught up with her. It wasn't much longer before she found out.

Sooner than she would have expected, he was beside her. She caught a glimpse of moonlight on steel, as the two horses raced side by side, and then his arm swung in her direction. Uttering a breathless scream, she watched in terror, waiting for the deathblow she expected to feel. Instead she felt her bonds loosening, and realised that he was cutting the ropes which held her to her terrifying transport. Before she'd had time to fully assimilate that bit of intelligence, she was being lifted by one powerful arm, and swept onto the robber's horse.

"I 'ave ya," he told her in a coarse, rough voice, as he began in rein in his mount.

He might have been trying to reassure her, but Mademoiselle Lavinia Marie Celestine Le Mersurer was not a female to be "had" by any man!

"Release me at once, you bully!" She pounded at his chest and arms with her fists, but he held her all the tighter. "Imbecile!" she raged at him. "Let me go ... à l'instant!"

"Where was ya wantin' to go, missy?" he asked, with a touch of sarcasm in his voice. "We're in deepest part of the wood 'ere." He held her easily with one arm, and turned his horse with the other, to begin the trip back towards the coach.

"Back to my Papa, of course, you great stupid," she said in exasperation, as if explaining something to a simpleton for the twentieth time, "but I do not wish to ride with one such as you. Put me down and recover the other horse."

"Ho, mighty free wif the orders, aren't we? No, 'e's long gone by now. Best ride wi' me."

She raged at him for the next few minutes, but he kept refusing to do as she wished, keeping his horse on a slow, steady pace back to the coach. Finally, worn out and overwhelmed by all that had happened that night, her English completely deserted her and she lapsed into her native tongue, capping her assessment of his character with an oath no lady should know.

A crack of laughter escaped him and he pulled up his horse, shaking his head at her. "Milady!" he exclaimed, shocked and amused. "Please, spare my blushes, I beg you!" His tone was censorious, but there was laughter behind it, so she knew he was teasing her. With his amusement, he had dropped the coarse robber's accent and his true voice was revealed--cultured and pleasant. But what amazed her even more was the realization that he spoke French! And very thorough French, if he'd been able to understand what she'd just said.

"Vous-parlez Français, monsieur?"

"Oui, mademoiselle."

"Comment! How is this possible: an English highwayman who knows French?" She was intrigued now, and sat quietly in his arms, trying to see what she could of his face despite the near darkness and his mask. In her astonishment, she had continued speaking in French, and he answered her in that tongue.

"Perhaps because I am not a highwayman, mademoiselle, but I beg you will help me keep that little secret." His face turned towards her, and she thought he smiled. "You're safe now, ma petite. Rest a bit and I'll see you safely to your Papa."

The transition from terror to tenderness was too abrupt. Strong and brave throughout her ordeal thus far, she was defenceless against his gently uttered endearment, and her energy deserted her. Suddenly she was aware of the night's chill, her chafed wrists and the places on her arms and sides where she'd been roughly handled by the robbers. She trembled and sagged against him. Concerned, he stopped the horse so that he might put both arms around her. She felt one of his hands come up to caress the back of her head, while his other arm enveloped her in a protective embrace. Inexplicably, she had never felt safer in her life.

"Doucement, mon courageux, doucement," he whispered to her. "Everything is all right now."

Content, for the moment, Lavinia relaxed into his embrace, giving herself time to find her normal equilibrium once more. How long they might have stayed this way is hard to say, but the memory of her father's cry and the thought of his current fear reasserted itself and she began to straighten up.

As soon as he felt her recovering he released her then helped her arrange herself more comfortably across his saddle. He noticed she still trembled, however slightly, and offered her the protection of his cloak.

"Merci, monsieur, I am a little chilled." Her own cloak might have been suitable for sitting in a carriage but was not substantial enough for hectic rides through a forest at night.

He brought his cloak around her, enveloping her in warmth. Holding the edges of it together, along with the reins, she could sense that he was extending his arms awkwardly to accommodate her. It seemed only polite to lean against him once more, but only (she told herself) so that he wouldn't have to keep his arms in that uncomfortable position. Once they had set off again, she wanted to know why, if he wasn't a highwayman, he was riding about masquerading as one.

He smiled to himself as he felt her relax against him once more. "I wanted to stop the villainy I saw about me, and so I disguised myself as a villain in order to catch those who would prey upon the helpless."

"Is that why you wear that mask, monsieur? So that they will not know who you are?"

"Vraiment! If they discover who I really am, they might be able to kill me."

Her cheeks paled at the thought. "Mon Dieu! I will never tell a soul, I swear!"

"Merci, mademoiselle. Rest now, and let me find our way out of this wood." Tired out from her adventures, she was content to let someone else be in charge. She'd had to be the strong one for so long now.