Page 28 of The Major’s Mistake (Intrepid Heroines #7)

Both of them skittered to a near halt on the precarious footing of fallen leaves and tangled roots.

The man reached out his other hand to take a firmer grasp on the boy.

But all at once, he gave a sudden scream and staggered backwards, releasing his hold and jerking both arms heavenward.

A small, wriggling shape flew through the air and fell into a thicket of brambles.

Justin quickly darted out of his reach and disappeared into the the shadows of the trees.

Seeing that he was safely away, Miranda rose and calmly stood her ground as the men approached.

As the one with the evil-looking pistols thrust through his belt drew close, it became clear he was the leader. Eyes narrowed, he snarled a heated rebuke at the member of his band who had allowed Justin to elude capture.

“You bloody idiot—I wanted the brat as well!”

“A snake! A bloody snake came out of the imp’s sleeve—I swear it!”

A snort of disbelief was the only reply. His angry gaze came back to rake over Miranda. She met it without flinching, and indeed, her coolness seemed to goad his temper even more.

“You’ll have to do,” McTavish said with a sneer, then licked his lips. “And you’ll do very nicely, indeed. You had better hope the blunt comes quickly, else we’ll be forced to take out payment in other ways.”

Miranda paled slightly, but her voice remained steady. “Is that what you expect? A ransom? My aunt is not wealthy?—”

McTavish gave a nasty laugh. “Oh, it’s not your aunt we’re thinking of, it’s yer fancy man, the marquess. No doubt he’ll be willing to pay extra to keep getting a roll in the hay.”

A slight smile came to her lips. “I fear you are sadly mistaken if you think the marquess will pay a farthing to secure my release.”

“Of course he will! I’ve seen him hanging around your skirts.” A note of uncertainty caused his voice to ring even harsher. “It’s clear you’re his doxie, and I mean to see that he pays us well if he wishes to continue having you warm his sheets.” He spat on the ground. “He can well afford it.”

She shook her head doggedly. “You are wrong. I am nothing to His Lordship.”

There was a nervous shuffling among several of the men. “The boy will raise the alarm,” muttered one of them. “Perhaps it would be best to have done with this and leave her be—especially if she’s telling the truth. I’ve heard the locals talk about her and she don’t seem that sort?—”

“Shut up!” McTavish glared at them, then turned back to Miranda and dealt her a stinging blow across the cheek. “You, too.”

He removed a good-sized rock from his coat around which was tied a note.

After hefting from one hand to the other, he tossed it to one of the men.

“You know what to do—heave it right through the window I showed you. And be quick about it.” There was a slight pause.

“Don’t go getting any clever ideas, either.

I promise you, the authorities would have precious little sympathy for any tale from the likes of you.

You’ll only end up swinging from the gibbet, and then what would happen to your family? ”

The other man pocketed the ransom note without a word and set off.

McTavish then signaled for Scofield to take hold of Miranda’s arm. “Come on, then. Let’s get her back to the camp before the brat spreads the word on what has happened.”

Julian urged his stallion into a brisk gallop, enjoying the feel of the wind in his face again after what had seemed like an interminable confinement.

“Easy now, guv,” cautioned Sykes after the marquess’s mount had cleared the low stone wall at full gallop.

“Oh, stubble it, man,” he called with a grin as he reined the big animal to a walk. “Good Lord, you’ve been acting worse than a damn nursemaid over a few bruised ribs.”

Sykes rolled his eyes. “Someone here has to exercise a little common sense,” he grumbled.

Julian laughed outright. “Come now, it’s too nice a day to brangle.

” He thought of the small package he had tied at the back of his saddle and turned in the direction of his aunt’s property.

“Let us ride to Lady Thornton’s. The book I ordered from London for Justin arrived yesterday and I wish to give it to him.

” A fond smile played on his lips. “I think he shall like the pictures of the animals.”

That there was also a fine edition of a rare herbal for Miranda he didn’t feel the need to mention. The truth was, he felt a bit like a nervous schoolboy as he wondered whether she would accept it.

Somehow, it mattered a great deal. A sigh slipped out as he thought of all the other things he would like her to have as well.

Along with the books, several large trunks had also arrived from London.

Though his man of affairs must have been thoroughly perplexed by the orders he had received, he had carried them out to the letter.

Julian now had a full wardrobe of exquisite gowns and sundries made by Miranda’s former modiste, still considered the most exclusive in Town.

He had no doubt that colors and styles selected by that most discerning lady would be perfect.

Now, if only he could convince Miranda to?—

His stallion shied sharply to one side, nearly unseating him. “Behave yourself, Zeus,” he grumbled. “I know you’ve been sadly neglected over the past week, but you needn’t toss me on my ear over it.”

He looked up to see that Sykes had drawn his mount to a halt and his hand was moving towards the brace of pistols at his saddle.

In answer to Julian’s questioning gesture, the valet pointed at the stand of thick scotch pine trees flanking the narrow trail just ahead.

There was a quick movement in among the boughs, then utter stillness.

The two exchanged glances and slowly drew their weapons.

“Whoever is there, come out and show yourself, else risk a bellyful of lead,” called Sykes in a menacing voice.

There was no answer.

The valet cocked one pistol, the ominous click echoing like a shot through the surrounding woods. Suddenly a small figure appeared from the sheltering shadows.

“M ... Major?”

“Ye gods, it’s Justin!” Julian jammed his pistols back in the holsters, spurred forward and swooped the little boy up into his arms. “Steady lad,” he said softly as Justin began to sob against his shoulder. “Good Lord, tell me what’s wrong.”

“Mama said I was to run home and not stop for anything.” He brushed away a tear. “But I got lost in the woods, and …”

“You’ve been very brave and done very well, but if I am to help I must know exactly what has happened.”

“W … we were gathering herbs up in the field near old shepherd McDuff’s cottage when some … men came out of the woods towards us. That was when Mama told me I was to do just as she said and run.”

Sykes had drawn alongside the marquess. His brows came together as the soldier in him began to assess the situation. “How many men were there, lad?”

Justin thought for a moment. “There were three in the field. And two more were by the trees. Then one other tried to catch me, but I got away.”

“So, at least six.” The valet’s brows came together and he slanted a look at Julian. “Squire Hawkins is the local magistrate and he isn’t above twenty minutes ride from here. It shouldn’t take long to raise an armed party. Have you any idea where this McDuff’s cottage is?”

“Aye, I know the place.”

Justin swallowed hard. “Nothing is going to happen to Mama, is it?” he asked in a small voice.

Julian hugged his son hard to his chest. “No, lad. I promise.” He tousled the boy’s hair, then abruptly thrust him into his valet’s arms. “See him safely to my aunt’s.”

“But guv!”

“Then ride on to the magistrate and raise the alarm.”

Sykes opened his mouth to protest again, but Julian cut him off. “There’s no time to waste on arguments.”

“Surely you can’t mean to go after them by yourself!”

The marquess’s face was grim. “That’s exactly what I mean to do.”

The other man swore silently under his breath as Julian’s big stallion took off at full gallop and disappeared around the bend. But then another snuffle from the small figure in his arms reminded him of his duty. Tucking the little boy firmly to his chest, he spurred his own mount forward.

Angus put down his pitchfork and poked his head out of the barn at the sound of pounding hooves. His expression changed to one of alarm at the sight of the lathered horse and the figure of Justin clinging to Sykes’s neck. He raced out to intercept them.

“Has there been an accident?” he demanded. “Has the bairn been hurt? And where is Lady?—”

Sykes tersely explained what had happened, drawing a muttered oath from the big groom. “Let me see Justin settled with Lady Thornton,” he added. “Find Jem, then we must move, and quickly. I cannot like the odds of the marquess going up after them by himself.”

Angus gave a curt nod disappeared back into the barn.

When Sykes returned, he found the two grooms already saddling the grey filly and Justin’s pony.

Jem cast a pained look at the smaller animal and lifted his shoulders in apology. “He ain’t exactly fit for our size, but there’s little choice other than poor old Thistle.”

“He’ll stand up to your weight long enough for you to reach Squire Hawkins,” said Angus. “Up you go.”

Jem’s face took on a mutinous look. “But I want to go with you and?—”

“NOW!”

His lower lip thrust out, but Jem climbed into the saddle without further argument. The other two watched him set off, legs dangling perilously close to the ground, as fast as the pony could manage.

Sykes then turned and held up the grubby piece of paper that Lady Thornton had just handed to him. “This is what came crashing through the parlor window not ten minutes ago.”

The groom’s eyes narrowed as he read the rough scrawl. “Bloody bastards,” he growled.

Sykes nodded as he rechecked the priming on his pistols. “Aye. Now if you will ride over to the marquess’s estate and alert?—”

“The hell I will. I’m coming with you.”

The valet looked up in surprise.

“If His Lordship has gone after Lady Miranda, then I figure we had best go after the His Lordship, to make sure that both of ‘em get out of this coil unhurt. Somehow I think she would take it greatly amiss if anything were ta happen to him, and I would hate ta see m’lady disappointed.”

As he spoke, he slowly unwrapped the thick bundle of canvas in his hands, revealing a long-barreled pistol. “I keep it around just for emergencies,” he added. The weapon went into his coat pocket.

A slow grin had spread across Sykes’s face. “Your company would be most welcome, Dagleish. Though I doubt the guv intends to let anything stop him from seeing that no harm comes to his wife, our assistance might come in handy.”

Angus joined the valet in climbing into the to saddle. “She ain’t his wife, Sykes. It seems to me that it don’t do either of them any good to forget that fact.”

“We shall see,” murmured the valet as he set his heels into his horse’s flanks.

The two men rode hard and quickly reached the point where the road turned into a rough cart track, where the way began to wind its way up between the rugged pastures toward a thick stand of forest, then on to the craggy moors.

Sykes reined to a walk. Shading his eyes, he surveyed the wild surroundings with an increasingly long face.

“Any idea where these men might be holed up?” His voice did not indicate he held out much hope for that.

The big groom remained silent. After a bit, his brows furrowed and he suddenly turned his mount around. “Wait here.”

Sykes opened his mouth to argue. Angus cut off his protest with a jerk of his head. “Ye noticed that we passed some laborers fixing a gap in the stone wall?”

The valet grunted an impatient reply.

“Times are very hard here, Sykes,” explained Angus. “The locals may not have any doings with such a bad lot, but they also ain’t likely to bark to the authorities about what they know. There’s a chance one of those men back there has seen or heard something that may be of use to us.”

Sykes looked dubious. “Why would they tell you, then?”

“Because Lady Miranda has already made herself well-liked and respected round these parts. They won’t abide by that sort of violence against her.

Besides,” he growled. “They hold anything back and I’ll thrash ‘em within an inch of their bloody lives.” He trotted off, leaving Sykes no doubt that if there was information to be had, the big groom would have it out of them with no argument.

Sure enough, he returned shortly with a grim smile on his lips. “A bit of smoke, even far up in these hills, doesn’t go unnoticed.” He indicated a direction that led up into the most forbidding part of the moors. “Follow me.”

Though Sykes did not like above half the idea of leaving the marquess on his own, he had to agree that the groom’s plan seemed to make the most sense. With a reluctant sigh, he fell in behind the gray filly.

Julian reached the stone cottage and turned his stallion into the adjoining pasture.

He approached the clearing near the trees with great caution, his pistols loosened in their holsters, his gaze sweeping the surroundings with a practiced scrutiny.

It took little time to pick up the signs of recent disturbance—the scuffed earth, the bent grasses, the snapped twigs.

A clear trail had been left by the numerous footsteps.

It skirted the edge of the forest and led into the higher grazing lands.

The marquess had no trouble discerning the direction they had taken, even on horseback, for the group had made no effort to hide their tracks.

That was cause for some concern. The fact that they had little worry of being followed boasted of a certain brash overconfidence.

Whoever the leader of this band of ruffians was, he had lost all fear of being caught.

No doubt his continued success at eluding the authorities had imbued him with a sense of invincibility.

And that made him a very dangerous fellow. Very dangerous indeed.

Julian felt a knot form in the pit of his stomach as he thought of Miranda at the mercy of such a man.

He urged his stallion to a faster pace while his eyes raked the way ahead for any sign of movement.

Surely he must be cutting into their lead, he told himself.

And surely he would reach them before any harm could befall her.

Thinning his mouth thinned to a determined line, he dug hid spurs into his horse’s flanks yet again.

He had no intention of losing her for a second time.