* * *
“There, Leo!”Percy breathed.
Leo’s gaze sharpened on the road ahead as a mare galloped fearfully toward them. His heart lurched.
“She has no rider,” he noted grimly. “Have her put on a lead behind the carriage, and we will—”
Crack!
“Shite,” Leo breathed, his stomach swooping with fear. “Was that—”
“A pistol being fired.” Percy manoeuvred his mount toward the mare, leaned out, and caught her reins.
His skin taut with tension, Leonard urged his tired mount faster. He knew not what to expect, merely that he ought to help. Miss Smith was in danger, and he couldn’t have her death on his conscience, as well.
They had been running for mere moments when a tall figure clad in black raced toward him. The figure squeaked and attempted to veer into the forest.
“Miss Smith!” he hollered.
She halted, turning to squint up at him in the darkness.
Leo dismounted and strode toward her. “I’ve a carriage. Come, I will walk you there.”
“No,” she said breathlessly. “He’s coming! We must hurry before he regains his footing.”
“Whois coming, Miss Smith?”
She shook her head, still gasping for air. “I do not know him.”
“Juliana!” a voice roared, drawing out each syllable.
“Please,” Miss Smith breathed. “Run.”
With a tight nod, Leo gripped his gelding’s reins and ran on foot. If they’d had a longer distance, he might have considered riding with her on the horse, but not only were they only steps ahead of his party, but his mount was already exhausted and likely wouldn’t survive the return trip if it had to bear the weight of two riders.
They didn’t have to travel far before Percy came into view, followed by the team of bays and their coachman bundled in blankets.
“We must make haste,” Leo muttered tersely to the men.
He led Miss Smith toward the carriage, the lanterns swinging eerily in the darkness as it rolled to a halt. A footman scurried to lower the steps and swung the door open.
“Thank you,” Leo murmured before turning to face Miss Smith. “After y— Hellfire and damnation! You’re injured!”
“Oh.” She touched the tips of her fingers to her cheek. “Are bruises forming already?”
“Bruises? Damnation, I meant theblood.” Crimson glistened in the lantern light, splattered across her forehead and hair, with a few stray droplets on her ear and jaw, and more, he suspected, on the front of his coat that she wore. He was aghast and furious that someone would do her harm.
Her lips twisted in distaste as she slid past him into the carriage. “It isn’t mine.”
That news both pleased and terrified him. Whose blood was it?
“Percy,” Leo growled, turning toward his man. “Take a footman on my gelding and ride ahead. See what you can find.”
His friend grinned. “Of course.”
Leonard followed Miss Smith with another nod to the footman. The door closed, and they were safely ensconced in a bit of warmth. A low-burning lantern was lit within and foot warmers, woollen blankets, and furs had been stacked upon the seats in preparation for their journey. Miss Smith was already gathering material around herself and her foot warmer when he’d finished settling in across from her.
He rapped on the ceiling with his fist.
