Patrica Rice (25 page)

Melanie’s eyes grew wider. However vaguely informed by Daphne’s expurgated explanations, she understood enough to know they could be in danger. She pushed back the curtains and tried to find the reassuring sight of the uniformed soldiers.

“Do you think something happened back there when we pulled over? I heard nothing untoward, but I was listening to your tale and not to what was happening outside.”

Daphne frowned. “The soldiers are armed. They could not be removed without our hearing their struggle. Perhaps we are imagining things. Did you notice the driver when we left? Perhaps he is not Gordon’s usual driver but one of the soldiers in disguise.”

Or Wild Willie
, she thought to herself. It would be just like her father to assign his favorite servant to the task of seeing her to safety. Safety, indeed! She caught the carriage strap as the wheel hit a rock and sent them bouncing off the leather roof.

Melanie shook her head. “I cannot say for certain, but I would have noticed had he worn other than Gordon’s livery.” She pressed her face against the glass, straining for some sign of their guards.

Earlier, Daphne had wondered how this day could be any worse. Now she knew. It was becoming quite obvious this was not any normal ride. Whether they were racing away from something or toward something, she could not detect, but the chances of their arriving in one piece seemed increasingly small.

This was no solid wooden mail coach meant for a team of six and high speeds, and this rutted lane was no improved turnpike. The fragile wheels of the carriage and the delicate legs of Gordon’s high-stepping horses could not keep this reckless pace for long. Daphne clenched her teeth and hands and prayed.

Melanie gave an eager cry and grabbed Daphne’s hand as she bounced excitedly in her seat. “ ‘Tis Rhys! Oh, see, Daphne, he’s riding over the moor. He must have been a Hussar like Evan! I’ve never seen anyone take the hedgerow like that. Has he come to rescue us?”

Her companion’s excited comments sounded more as if this were some splendid game in which the best man always won. Daphne wouldn’t rate Rhys as the best man in any game, but she would take her chances with him before this mad driver. “We’ll have to help him. He can’t stop the carriage all by himself.”

Daphne threw herself into the seat behind the driver and rumbled for the latch to the driver’s door. Melanie grew solemn as Daphne’s words took new meaning.

“Surely he won’t try to stop the carriage alone. The soldiers ...” She couldn’t express the horror of that thought.

Daphne jerked open the door, caught a glimpse of scarlet and not Gordon’s discreet gray and black livery, before a sudden bounce slammed the door shut again. The shock left her breathless, and her mind spun in circles.

Was Rhys the one they ran from? Could he have been sent to deliver them to the murderers? Or had Captain Rollings gone berserk? Perhaps he didn’t recognize the rider approaching. But why would Rhys be so recklessly racing after them if there weren’t trouble? And where was Evan?

That thought struck even greater fear in her heart. Evan trusted Rhys. If Rhys had turned traitor, what would he have done to Evan? And the others? It was becoming more than obvious that if they were in trouble, it shouldn’t just be Rhys out there chasing across the moor. All the Griffins and her father and brother should be galloping down the road.

The sound of gunfire startled Daphne from her thoughts. Melanie screamed in terror and glued herself to the window where the passing landscape had become a blur of motion. Daphne reached to struggle with the door to the driver’s box again. She didn’t know what she would accomplish by doing so, but she could not sit helplessly and go to her destruction.

Looking out, she saw a soldier in a red coat but no sign of the driver’s livery, and she did her best to school her rising panic. She could not tell for certain, but from the slope of the land in front of them and the blur of trees, she very much suspected they were heading toward the river. Taking that narrow bridge at this pace was foolhardy to an extreme, and Daphne glanced anxiously at the soldier wielding the reins. Was this his idea of protecting them?

* * * *

Evan swallowed his fear and rage as the carriage careened down the lane toward him. The driver would shortly be in firing range of his pistol, but he dared not use it while the horses were for all practical purposes out of control.

The rain-swollen river lay directly ahead, the wooden bridge appearing little more than a toothpick against the debris of the flood. The man was mad to aim at that, mad or supremely confident of his driving abilities.

Gambling on the latter, Evan gave the signal his men had been waiting for. With yells and curses, the motley band of ragged ex-soldiers heaved the heavy branch-laden top of a fallen tree across the bottom of the muddy lane, out of sight of the carriage on the far side of the hill.

It was a gamble that could cost him the lives of those nearest and dearest to Evan, but it was no worse than allowing them to cross that bridge and the swollen river. Here, he would be in control. Down there, the bastard on the driver’s box would have the advantage.

Playing the part of highwayman, Evan rode into the road at the top of the hill and held his pistol steady as Rhys cut the carriage off from its outriders.

Gordon galloped up from behind the carriage, throwing the two outriders into a quandary. Uncertain who was the enemy, they threw up their hands in surrender, but Evan breathed no sigh of relief.

Ignoring Evan’s order to halt, the carriage driver barreled past. Cursing, Evan focused on the man with the reins in his hands, distracted only when he recognized the pale face appearing in the window.

He wanted to scream at Daphne to get down, to take the floor and lie flat, but he was helpless. He could only watch in horror as the scarlet-coated driver finally saw the tree and began to haul at the reins. The carriage could overturn at any minute, and Evan would be the one responsible for sending two innocent females to their fate.

Anguish squeezed at his heart for being given two such impossible choices, but his hand never wavered from the pistol.

Chapter Nineteen

The carriage’s sudden jerk forward flung Daphne back to the seat. The light vehicle swayed dangerously. Acting on instinct or feeling the wild fear of Evan’s unspoken cry, Daphne grabbed Melanie’s arm and pushed her to the floor. Too frightened to protest, Melanie curled in a ball between the two seats, her pelisse engulfing her from head to toe. Daphne squeezed down beside her, half on top, forming a protective cushion against whatever might come.

She closed her eyes as the horses screamed a protest against the sudden restraint. She felt the wheels sliding uncontrollably on the muddy road and knew a crash was imminent. It was akin to reliving that horrible night so many years ago, only from the inside looking out this time. All they could do was pray.

The carriage tilted precariously as it hit a rut, then righted itself under an expert hand. In the next minute, a wheel spun off into the ditch, the carriage lurched, shuddered, and slowly fell onto its side.

Melanie screamed as they were left hanging feet first over the ditch, the door to freedom above their heads. Any sudden movement might tilt the carriage further, and they would be sliding down the embankment. Wild curses and pistol shots reverberated through the air above them, and both women crouched in panic on the panel that had become their floor.

The door over their heads flew open, and Daphne gasped in relief as she recognized the glittering braid of Captain Rollings in the opening. Before she could offer a word of gratitude, a long, black pistol was aimed at her head, and a menacing growl replaced the polite tones she had learned to expect from the soldier.

“Climb up out of there and don’t say a word unless I tell you.”

He might as well have told them to part the Red Sea for all they could oblige. Daphne glanced down at her feet where the window showed the dangerous embankment sloping to the river, then looked up at the opening where Rollings evidently clung to the underside of the carriage. The horses were raising furious screams, but they didn’t seem cries of pain. She strained to hear other sounds, but fear limited her abilities. She greatly suspected they could die whether they remained here or not.

She could find only one advantage in their dire situation. If their movements could throw the carriage into a long slide down the embankment, they would also undoubtedly dislodge the pistol-wielding fiend in the doorway. And die in the river.

She could not understand why Rollings threatened them, but daringly, she glared up at him. “Do you think we are some kind of monkeys to perform acrobatics? The carriage needs to be brought back to the road before we slide into the river.”

The captain’s curse was quickly cut short by a shout from outside. Crouched on the panel, Daphne hugged Melanie’s shivering shoulders and gave praise to the heavens above. Evan’s voice.

Rollings turned so violently that the carriage shook. “Stand off, Griffin, or you and your brother will not see your ladies again.”

Evan halted his horse in the road and glared at this man he had known as enemy in his highwayman disguise, but had never considered a danger to his family until now. “Don’t be absurd, Rollings. Where do you think you will go from here? The trick is up. Throw away the weapon and no one will be harmed.”

“I think not.” Rollings clung to the carriage containing his hostages. “All I want is a share of the fortune. You may argue all you like, but the ladies stay with me until my demands are met. They are likely to grow quite uncomfortable shortly, and if the rain begins again, they could be in some danger. I suggest you consult your toplofty brother and proceed to find a satisfactory sum posthaste. Since it seems I will now have to leave the country to enjoy it, it had best be a sum large enough to persuade me to let these very attractive ladies go.”

Evan could feel the first dribble of rain begin again, and despair took root in his bones. He didn’t dare look to the men crawling from the woods and along the embankment. Rollings had to know Evan didn’t act alone, but there was no reason to let him know where the others were. If only there were time before the rain began in earnest ...

“Gordon!” Evan shouted in the direction of the line of trees behind him. The sound of a horse cantering in his direction was sufficient to let him know that his twin was not far away. Together, they could tackle the officer on the carriage, except his pistol was not aimed at his antagonists, but at the innocent women inside.

“This gentleman seems to think we possess a fortune in which he wishes to share. How much do you have on you?”

Gordon shrugged his broad shoulders against the damp superfine of his tailored coat as he rode up. “I didn’t come prepared for travel. Will my watch and fob suit?”

Rollings’s pale face grew dark with anger. “Do not play the fools with me. It is only your damned almighty luck that I’m not the next heir to your title, and I can arrange it still. But I can live without names and titles if wealthy enough. I suggest you hurry back to our holy grandfather and find out how much gold you can uncover if you wish to see the ladies alive again.”

Less than an hour ago, Evan had learned of the existence of his Uncle Robert’s two sons and the fact that they lived under the name of their actress mother—Rollings.

It had taken only a few additional words to realize they had sent Daphne and Melanie out in the dubious care of an embittered man. His uncle’s warning that the Shelce coach had been moving at remarkable speed when he passed it had scarcely been needed. At knowledge of Rollings’ origins, Evan had already been halfway across the room.

Now Evan held his gaze on his newly found cousin as Rhys surreptitiously slid beneath the carriage with a stout limb in his hand. A few more of those and the carriage would be steadier, if not upright. He prayed the cousin he knew now as Gregory Rollings wouldn’t notice the difference until it was too late.

The stealth of the ex-soldiers as they slid logs and debris down the ditch to balance the carriage made Evan proud of their training. They were good men, all, despite the fact that they had come home with parts of them left behind on the battlefield. Somehow, he would see them well rewarded. In the meantime, he must keep Rollings distracted from their presence. Why had it never occurred to him that his uncle might have sons?

“Would you have us sign over the deed to the estate?” Evan asked disparagingly. “Or drive the contents of the stables down here? How do you propose that we raise funds while our sister and Miss Templeton dangle over a riverbank? It could take days. Be reasonable and come down from there. Your father is back at the house with the earl. Come talk with them and let us get the ladies out of that wreck.”

“You think I want to hang? Do you think for a moment that my father cares if I do or not? Had he cared, he would have seen to it that we had the same wealth and respect and name as the pampered favorites. But all he cares about is his own selfish pursuits. He would not even fight for me when they asked me to resign my commission. I’ve earned this rank. I’ve made my way despite him. And I’ll not let my life be thrown away because of him. I’ll not follow in his footsteps and live on the edge of poverty when there is all the Griffin wealth to be had for the asking. Go back to the earl and demand my rights!”

From below, Daphne heard this outraged speech and her spirits sank lower. They had reached an impasse of a certainty. From the anguish in Rollings’s voice it was apparent that the loss of his commission had been the final blow to his precarious hold on respectability. Without even the life of a soldier to uphold him, he had no future at all. Daphne hoped Evan realized the dangerous despair behind this admission.

She glanced down to the window where they had already discovered the quiet activity below them. Rhys was struggling valiantly with a large timber, and to Daphne’s surprise, even her brother was crawling through the mud to prop the carriage in place. If they could only stabilize it, the windows could be removed and they could crawl out. How long would it take to balance a carriage?