Highwayman's Hazard

by Marina Oliver

  Sarah gasped. 'But I could not leave Clarinda with that – that devil, and I had not the least notion where you were.'

  'What do you think you could have done on your own? Of all the foolish, thoughtless actions. You could have been killed if he thought you were a danger to his plans.'

  'But I wasn't on my own,' she recalled belatedly. 'Jacob Burnside came with me, he provided the horses.'

  'More fool him, and you for permitting him to ride into more danger than he knew.'

  'I have Robert's pistols,' she retorted, angry at his fierce condemning tone.

  'Which would have done you little good if your aim is still as bad as when you shot at me,' he said contemptuously, and Sarah, who considered she had done well to hit him on that occasion, bit back an angry retort and spurred on her horse instead.

  *

  The track they were following was narrow, rutted from the wheels of carts, and baked hard after the summer weather. It wound about the side of a steep hill and then, leaving the hill behind them, snaked across a wide open expanse. There were no houses in sight, only the occasional few trees, none of them in clumps large enough to conceal a building. As she searched this desolate landscape for any sign of the place where Clarinda might be held, Sarah's heart sank. It was growing dark swiftly, and there was nothing to guide them.

  'Hurry,' she cried to Sir Charles, 'we must go as far as we can before it is completely dark.'

  Again she spurred the horse, which responded gallantly by increasing his speed. Behind her Sir Charles called angrily.

  'Don't be a fool, Sarah! It's too dark for that pace.'

  She paid no heed, gritting her teeth and thinking that if he chose to play the coward he could remain behind. She would do her best to find Clarinda. When she heard hooves pounding up behind her she smiled grimly. So he did not care to be left behind after all. Shown the way by a mere female his pride drove him on.

  The track swerved round an old, wind-battered tree, and Sarah bent low to avoid the sweeping branches. As she straightened up again the horse stumbled, made an attempt to recover, and then fell to the ground, throwing Sarah headlong to fall with a sickening thud against the trunk of another tree.

  With the breath driven right out of her body, she lay there helplessly for a moment, and before she could move Sir Charles was kneeling beside her.

  'Gently. Don't try to move too quickly,' he said, as he saw her struggling to take in a deep breath. 'Did you hit your head?'

  Sarah shook it furiously, and he slid his arm beneath her shoulders to raise her slightly. As she struggled to sit up, a cry of pain escaped her lips, and she sank back against his arm.

  'My leg. I've hurt my ankle,' she whispered, turning her face into his coat and trying to stifle the sobs of pain and fury with herself for bringing this disaster on them. 'Leave me. Go on and rescue Clarinda,' she whispered as soon as she had regained control. 'I can lie here, I will rest until you come back. Take my pistol. I shall come to no harm here. For heaven's sake, go!' she almost shouted as he took no notice of her words.

  He had settled her with her back against the tree trunk, and was gently easing off her boots. One ankle was already swelling and Sarah had to bite her lips to prevent herself from crying out. He soon had both boots off and was probing gently at the injured leg, causing her to wince.

  'Why don't you go on? We cannot lose the time,' she asked angrily.

  He ignored her. 'I think it is just a sprain. Nothing is broken. Wait here for a moment while I see to the horses.'

  'Clarinda, she needs you,' she persisted.

  'It is too dark to go on, and I think we must have taken a wrong track, or the house is much further off than we thought.'

  'But you must go on! What will happen to Clarinda? That devil has her in his power. She will be terrified.'

  'I will deal with him later,' he said grimly. 'Believe me, he will be made to suffer for every moment of anxiety he has caused her.'

  'But he may – he wants to marry her,' Sarah said urgently, unable to put into words her greatest fear. Sir Charles had no such delicacy.

  'You mean he may ravish her? To force her compliance? If he does and her father does not kill him, I most certainly will. No, Sarah, I do not fear that. He will wish to marry her in order to inherit Forleys, and he will try to gain her agreement. He will try persuasion first, I am certain.'

  'He could have had a minister waiting He could have forced her into marriage already,' she said quickly.

  'Then she will soon be widowed, I promise you.'

  'She will be petrified nevertheless,' Sarah whispered, trying to control the trembling of her voice.

  'She will survive. She is not so frail as she sometimes appears,' he said encouragingly. 'Stay here quietly now while I see how badly hurt your horse is.'

  *

  He gripped her shoulder for a moment, encouragingly, then rose to his feet and disappeared into the darkness. Sarah could hear the snufflings of horses nearby, and then heard Sir Charles talking soothingly to them. After what seemed an interminable time he came back to her.

  'He has cut his knees, but seems all right apart from that. We must go towards the river. There is a track leading in that direction just past these trees. You must sit on Star while I lead both horses. Here, hold your boots while I lift you up.'

  He thrust Sarah's boots into her hands and swiftly lifted her to carry her across to where his own horse waited. She shivered, for the night had grown cold, and tried to ignore the throbbing pain in her ankle. As carefully as possible he lifted her into the saddle, and she murmured a word of thanks, and then sank into gloomy thoughts of self blame for her reckless riding that had brought them to this pass, and fear of what was happening to Clarinda.

  She scarcely noticed the track, aware only that it soon began to descend steeply. She clung to the pommel as Star picked his way delicately after Sir Charles, and looked up with dull surprise when he halted the horses.

  'What is it?' she asked, looking about her at the steep side of the valley which rose a bare few feet away from the track, and the faint gleam of the river far below to the other side.

  'We're well past Ramsgill, and there are few dwellings about. From what I learned there we are a couple of miles away from any help, even if they could assist us, which they might be reluctant to do. Besides, the horse is lame and can go no further without risk of damaging him permanently. I think there is a cave in the hillside there, beneath that overhanging rock. If so I am going to spend the night in it. Wait here, hold the reins while I look.'

  She began to protest, but he ignored her and thrust the reins into her hands. As he scrambled across the rough ground his shadow merged into a darker one she could now distinguish against the rocks, and then there was a spurt of flame and, before she could realise it properly, a tiny glow flickering in the cool night air and swiftly moving until it was out of sight.

  Within a couple of minutes he was back at her side.

  'Yes, large enough for the horses as well, more of a hollow dug out beneath that overhanging cliff than a real cave, but adequate.'

  Sarah knew it was fruitless to argue, and wordlessly permitted him to lift her down from the saddle and carry her into this wide, shallow cave. He had left a stub of candle to light his way, and she wondered why he should have been provided with it. Did it come from his habits as a highwayman? Then she recalled someone saying he had been a soldier, and thought ruefully neither she nor Jacob had been so well prepared.

  He settled her gently so that she could lean against a smooth patch of rock, then went and persuaded the horses to tackle the rock-strewn slope leading to the cave. His own horse, Star, came willingly enough, used no doubt to strange occurrences, she concluded, but Jacob's horse, accustomed to genteel rides on Harrogate common, or in the country round about, and no doubt suffering from the pain in its legs, proved troublesome, baulking at every slight obstacle.

  Eventually, however, they were both installed, and then Sir Charles swiftly g
athered twigs and dry sticks and lit a small fire close to Sarah, which sent dancing grotesque shadows against the rocky walls.

  'We need more light,' he said, encouragingly. 'I will go down to the river and get some water.'

  On the words he was gone, and within a remarkably short time reappeared, his three-cornered hat full of cool water.

  'Drink,' he ordered briefly, and Sarah, suddenly aware of how thirsty she was, dipped in her hands and cupped out some water. Then he went to unstrap his saddlebag and drew out of it a cravat which he soaked in the water and bounded round Sarah's injured ankle. After the first flinching at the coldness of it she found exquisite relief from the throbbing agony.

  *

  The next hour passed in a dull blur for Sarah. Sir Charles was for ever disappearing, to gather more wood for their fire or fetch water, or take Star down to the river to let him drink. The other horse he could not move, and had to make several journeys with his now battered hat before the horse had drunk its fill. He then tried to ease the pain of the lame and cut legs, eventually coming to sit beside Sarah and delve once more into the saddlebags.

  He produced and silently handed to her a napkin-wrapped parcel, and she found inside several pieces of veal pie. He also had rolls and cheese and a flask of wine, and they spread the feast on the floor between them.

  'I had not realised how hungry I was,' she admitted. 'I am sorry to have put us in this fix.'

  'Apart from your horse falling and your ankle, we are in little worse state than if that had not happened,' he shrugged. 'I am sure we missed the way, but don't fret. We can return to Ramsgill and find a guide tomorrow.'

  'But Clarinda,' she protested.

  'What do you propose to do, hobble off in search of her?' he demanded brusquely, and she miserably shook her head. 'Tell me all you know about this expedition. Who arranged it, and who set off with them?'

  He questioned her closely, seeming, beneath his cool exterior, as incensed against Louise and Sir Gilbert as she was herself, and she took comfort in the realisation he would spare no pains to track them down and exact revenge. When she had told him all she could think of he propped up one of the saddles and told her to get what sleep she could, although it would be a hard pillow.

  *

  After her headlong ride Sarah was exhausted, and she soon fell into a doze, uncomfortable though she was on the hard ground, and with the nagging pain in her swollen ankle. Some hours later she awoke, her neck aching from the awkward position she had placed it in, and shivering from cold.

  She turned to ease her neck and felt the rocky bed she lay on, and a sharp pain from her ankle brought her fully awake. She opened her eyes and saw the entrance to the cave silhouetted against faint moonlight, the shape of a tree peering round one edge.

  She shivered again. The fire had gone out. She had not thought to bring a cloak and she tried to pull her coat more closely about her, but it made no difference. She began to rub her arms and that helped a little, but most of her body remained cold and she could not still the shivers that wracked her. A low moan escaped from her as her ankle knocked against something hard, and she thought angrily it was the only warm part of her, burning as it was with pain.

  'Sit up,' the low command came, and she turned her head swiftly to find Sir Charles sitting beside her.

  She obeyed instinctively and he threw his cloak, which she now recalled seeing rolled up behind his saddle, about her.

  'That will keep you warm enough. It will soon be dawn.'

  'But you, you will be cold,' she protested. 'Besides, I shall not sleep again, the ground is so hard.'

  'I am accustomed to campaigning,' he replied, and then chuckled. 'I should have known you would not have been prepared.'

  'I never expected to have to sleep in the open,' she retorted with a return of spirit.

  'You should be prepared for everything,' he responded, and laughed at her exclamation of disgust. 'If it would not offend your ideas of what is proper you could lean against me and the cloak would keep us both warm. I might be a softer pillow than either rocks or saddles.'

  Before Sarah could reply to this astonishing suggestion he had moved closer to her, settling his back against one of the saddles, and pulled her round so that she lay curled up against him, his strong arms encircling her and the cloak enveloping them both. For a moment she stiffened, prepared to push him angrily away, but then the warmth and comfort became obvious, and she hesitated.

  'It will not be for long, and then we can resume our search for Clarinda once it is dawn,' he said softly, and she relaxed.

  He was so concerned with Clarinda, so determined to avenge her if the wretched Sir Gilbert had harmed her, she decided. Even though he refused to continue searching strange country in the dark, which she had to admit after her own stupidity would have been pointless, he had not given up. Clarinda was fortunate to have so many people care for her. Was it her fragility, her petite prettiness, that caused people to rush to her aid? Suddenly she became aware Sir Charles was rocking slowly to and fro, a soothing motion that was lulling her to sleep, like a baby. His arms, firm about her, felt so strong and capable. She snuggled down with her head against his shoulder, and could feel his heart beating and the warm breath on her forehead. He had wanted to know everything she could tell him about Clarinda and her friends. He was so concerned. He had been so attentive whenever they had met in public, and had become a favourite with Clarinda's grandmother. Probably he loved her.

  The thought jolted her awake for a moment. Of course he must love her. He would not be so furious against her abductors unless he loved her. A faint pang of envy passed through Sarah as she thought how fortunate Clarinda was to have won the love and regard of such a daring, yet steadfast man. She would be fortunate indeed if Robert proved to be half so admirable. She shivered slightly and Sir Charles's arms tightened about her.

  'You're safe here, Sarah, sleep now,' he whispered, and sighing, turning her face up a little luxuriating in the warmth of him, and the comfort of lying in his arms after the hard stony ground, she slept.

  *

  Chapter 8

  When she awoke Sarah blushed with embarrassment to find how she had spent the latter part of the night, and struggled to escape from the bonds of Sir Charles's arms and cloak. With a grin which told her he was fully aware of what she was thinking, which confused her still more, he deftly removed the cloak.

  'Be careful not to put too much weight on your foot until we see how it mends,' he warned, and Sarah nodded.

  'It is full daylight,' she said accusingly. 'Why did you not wake me earlier?'

  'It has not been light for long. We have a full day ahead of us. You can be sure Sir Gilbert will not rise for hours yet.'

  Sarah found her ankle was very much better, and with the aid of a stick Sir Charles cut from a nearby tree she hobbled about with reasonable ease. The horse she had been riding was still very lame, and Sarah blamed herself bitterly for riding faster than was safe.

  'Will you remain here for a while with him, and I will ride back to Ramsgill and fetch help. I will try to meet with Mr Burnside at the same time. He will probably have found shelter there.'

  He left her, and Sarah scrambled down to the edge of the water and washed her face, then sat bathing her feet in the cold river, watching some sheep on the far side and thinking back over all that had happened, recalling small insignificant facts which, when gathered together, all pointed towards Sir Charles being in love with Clarinda. He would rescue her. He would make up to her for any terror or harm that had been caused to her. Now she knew he loved her friend, she was confident this wild chase would succeed.

  Momentarily she wondered what people would think if they discovered she and Sir Charles had not only spent the night in the same cave, but she had slept for part of it in his arms. Innocent as it had been she could not afford to let anyone know. Even Robert, who had laughed at her escapades when she was a child, would be scandalised at the impropriety. It was worse, far wors
e than when he had kept them imprisoned in his highwayman's cottage. She would have to concoct some tale and swear everyone to secrecy, Jacob and Clarinda as well as Sir Charles. No, that would not do, for to reveal it to Clarinda might cause her to worry and possibly distrust Sir Charles, and if he wanted to marry her she must not be given the slightest reason for refusing him. If Sir Charles had not already told Jacob, she had best pretend she had found the cave herself and slept there alone, meeting Sir Charles only in the morning.

  *

  Anxious to approach that obstacle she hobbled up to the path and sat outside the cave waiting for Sir Charles to return. It seemed a very long time before he did, but when she heard the sound of hooves at last there were more than she expected. Within a few minutes the path outside the cave seemed to be swarming with men and horses.

  'I have found some assistance, you see, Sarah,' Sir Charles greeted her. 'We've a spare horse for you to ride, and Matt will take you and the lame horse back to the village while we ride to the farm. We did take the wrong track, as I suspected. You will be well cared for in the village and I will rejoin you there as soon as possible.'

  'You will not!' she replied indignantly. 'If you think you can dismiss me at this stage, Sir Charles Orde, you are wrong. I am riding with you.'

  He looked at her quizzically, then grinned.

  'Very well, then, mount and we'll be on our way.'

  Suspicious at his prompt acceptance when she had anticipated arguments and objections, she hobbled across to the spare horse one of the villagers was holding. It was only when she reached it she suddenly realised her inability to put her full weight on her injured ankle would make it difficult, if not impossible, to mount the horse unaided.

  Grinding her teeth she glared across at his handsome face. Disguised as a man, none of the villagers had offered her help, and it was only when Jacob sprang from his own horse to help her that she could reach the saddle. She smiled sweetly at Jacob and then looked challengingly at Sir Charles.