The Gift by Julie Garwood Read Free Book Online

himself up on the ledge. The vehicle rocked from the added weight before picking up speed again.
    Sara was certainly making her own kidnapping easy work. Nathan had heard her tell her aunt that they would be leaving London by ship. He therefore assumed their destination was the wharf. Then the hack veered off onto one of the side streets near the waterfront and came to an abrupt stop in front of one of the most notorious taverns in the city.
    She was going after the damn wedding band, he supposed with a growl of irritation. Nathan jumped down from the ledge and moved into the light further behind the hack. He wanted the men loitering in front of the tavern to get a good look at him. He braced his legs apart for a fight, moved his right hand to the hilt of the coiled whip hooked to his belt, and scowled at the sizable group.
    They noticed him. Three of the smaller ones edged their way back inside. The other four leaned back against the stone wall. Their gazes were directed on the ground.
    The driver climbed down from his perch, received fresh instructions, and hurried inside. He came back outside a scant minute later, muttered that he'd best be getting a giant bonus for all the trouble he'd had to endure, and then climbed back up to his seat.
    Another few minutes elapsed before the door of the tavern opened again. A sour-faced man with a grossly distended belly came outside. He was dressed in rumpled, soiled clothing that was ripe from wear. The stranger slicked his greasy hair back from his brow in a pitiful attempt at grooming as he swaggered over to the carriage.
    "My employer, Henry Winchester, is too sotted to come outside," he announced. "We come to this part of town when we don't want to be noticed," he added. "I'm here in his stead, m'lady. Your driver said there be a woman in need of something, and I'm thinking I'm just the man you're needing."
    The disgusting man scratched his groin while he eagerly waited for a reply to his offer.
    The stench radiating from the foul-smelling man came in through the window. Sara almost gagged in reaction. She placed her perfumed hankerchief over her nose, turned to her aunt, and whispered, "Do you know this man?"
    "I most certainly do," her aunt answered. "His name's Clifford Duggan, Sara, and he's the one who helped your uncle waylay me."
    "Did he strike you?"
    "Yes, dear, he did," Nora answered. "Several times, as a matter of fact."
    The servant under discussion couldn't see inside the dark carriage. He leaned forward to get a better look at his prize.
    Nathan walked over to the side of the carriage. His intent was to tear the man from aft to stern for daring to leer at his bride. He stopped when he saw the white-gloved fist fly through the open window and connect quite soundly with the side of the man's bulbous nose.
    Clifford hadn't been prepared for the attack. He let out a howl of pain, staggered backwards, and tripped over his own feet. He landed with a thud on his knees. While he spewed one crude blasphemy after another he diligently tried to regain his feet.
    Sara pressed her advantage. She threw the carriage door open, catching the villain in his midsection. The servant did a near somersault before landing in the gutter on his backside.
    The men lounging against the wall hooted in appreciation of the spectacle they'd just witnessed. Sara ignored her audience as she climbed out of the carriage. She turned to hand her reticule to her aunt, took another minute to remove her gloves and pass those through the window to her aunt, too, and then finally gave her full attention to the man sprawled on the ground.
    She was simply too infuriated to be afraid. She stood over her victim looking very like an avenging angel. Her voice shook with fury when she said, "If you ever mistreat a lady again, Clifford Duggan, I swear to God you'll die a slow, agonizing death."
    "I ain't never mistreated a lady," Clifford whined. He was trying to catch his breath so he could pounce on her. "How would