She got no further for from up above, a man’s voice hollered.
“Hell and damnation,” he exclaimed at the sight below him. “Betsy, what are you doing? You are not running from me again? You won’t get far.” The man leaned forward and grabbed a hold of the rope, yanking at it in an attempt to pull it and the young lady back up.
“No!” she called out. He could see how tight her grip around the rope was.
“Drop down, just drop. I’ll catch you!” Henry called. He reached his arms up. He could almost reach the young woman, only a few inches and he’d be able to grab her by the waist and help her down.
“It is too far,” she replied.
The man, who Christopher assumed was Lord Portsmouth, continued to wrestle with the rope.
“You’ll have to drop down Betsy, or you’ll fall by accident. It’s not as far as you think. Henry can catch you.” Christopher said.
“Betsy, don’t you dare. You will only hurt yourself. I will pull you up,” Portsmouth called. “Trust me!”
It was these words, an insult as much as a promise, that seemed to convince the young woman that dropping into the arms of Henry was a safer bet.
“I’ll let go,” she called.
“I am ready,” Henry replied. A moment later, Christopher felt himself pushed down as the woman landed in Henry’s arms. He swayed but kept steady, keeping the two people depending on him safe.
After a moment, he saw from the corner of his eye how Betsy Carmichael dropped the short distance to the ground beside him. The next moment, Henry jumped down from his shoulders.
“Your Grace, I thank you ever–”
Christopher raised his hand. “No time for that. Let us hurry. I’m sure the gentleman—Portsmouth I assume, will come for us any moment.”
“He will,” Betsy exclaimed, her eyes large and fearful.
“Our carriage is over yonder,” Henry pointed into the distance.
The three broke into a rush across the grass as the main door to the manor opened.
“Betsy Carmichael, you have not been dismissed!” the man hollered. Christopher looked back and took in the sight of Lord Portsmouth. He was shorter and stouter than he had expected. His reputation as a rake and dandy had led him to believe he would look rather different.
“Must be charming, to have such a reputation” he said as he ran.
“He is,” Betsy confirmed, equally struggling for breath. Meanwhile, Henry had run ahead of them and was at the carriage, opening the door for them.
Mr. Thorpe saw them coming and hurried back on this seat ready to gallop forward.
Henry helped Betsy into the carriage and then followed, reaching his arms toward Christopher as he brought up the rear.
“Go, go,” he called to the coachman who whipped the horses into a frenzied gallop.
Behind them, Lord Portsmouth, now joined by several servants, had almost caught up with them but stopped.
Christopher leaned back, out of breath. As the carriage made its way down the road he turned to Betsy Carmichael, a grin on his face.
“A pleasure to meet you again, Miss Carmichael.” Out of breath, and her face red with exertion, she nodded.
“And you, Your Grace.”
Chapter 28
“My dear,” the old woman said, turning to her. “I must take my leave. It has been a pleasure talking to you this night, but I am ever so tired. My bones are no longer young like yours.”
“Of course, Lady Totham. It has been a pleasure,” Rowena replied.
