On those words, she dashed up the stairs to change into her smart military-styled habit.
And to her relief, he waited for her to come down.
Chapter 16
Within the hour, they had eaten a light meal and were ready for the ride ahead. Matt had taken time to write several important letters and send servants to deliver them. One was to the magistrate in Essex. Another to the sheriff. Two more were to neighbors. Whatever George had planned, Matt was not going to let him escape justice.
Furthermore, his wife was right. This was a legal matter. Witnesses were needed. He invited all parties to meet him with due haste at Mayfield.
He and Willa set out.
Matt found himself on a hired gelding. Willa rode the unruly mare, who was a jewel for her. Either that, or Willa sat a better seat than Matt did.
Even though it was a half moon, they followed a main road and had little difficulty. They didn’t talk. They were riding too hard. Matt was grateful for Willa’s presence.
He tried not to think about what could happen to his grandmother. He carried a loaded pistol in his pocket and a knife in his boot. God willing, he’d not have to use either.
They reached Mayfield shortly before midnight. Once in sight of the house, Matt reined in.
When he was in London, the country house had a small staff of locals who often went home for the evenings. The retainers, such as Marshall and Mrs. Snow and Cook, journeyed back and forth but spent the bulk of their time in the city.
Right now, Mayfield looked deserted. Its brick walls reflected what little moonlight there was. No lights shone from the window. Not even a dog barked since the dogs would have been put up for the night down by the stables.
“I want you to stay here and wait for the magistrate or anyone else who might come,” he instructed Willa.
“Why don’t you wait as well?”
“I have to go there.”
“Matt, he might not be there.”
“He’s there.” He started to ride away and then turned his horse around. He went back to his wife. Bringing his horse up alongside hers, he pulled Willa to him and kissed her long and hard on the mouth.
“Take care,” she whispered when they were done.
“I will. I have too much to live for.” He placed a gloved hand against the side of her face. It would be so tempting to wait. To be safe. And yet, it was up to him to bring George to heel.
He also feared what would happen to Minerva if George thought Matt was not alone.
“Wait,” he commanded Willa one last time.
She nodded dutifully.
He whirled his horse around and rode up the drive to his front door. He dismounted and tied his horse to a post by the front door. He walked to the door. It was slightly ajar.
Matt pushed it open. The hinges didn’t even creak. He moved into the hall, and then stopped at the sight he saw in the front sitting room.
In a patch of moonlight from the window Minerva sat bound and gagged in a chair. Her hair fell to her shoulders and she was pale and shaking.
Taking out the pistol, Matt said quietly, “I’m here, Grandmother.”
She nodded her head and tried to make sounds. Matt didn’t understand until he heard a footfall behind him and then the heaviness of George’s breathing.
Matt dodged just in time to avoid being cleaved in two by the axe George was wielding. His hand holding the pistol hit the doorjamb. Matt lost control of the weapon. It went flying into the shadows.
Meanwhile, George had fallen forward from the force of his swing, but he quickly regained his footing. He jumped at Matt, the axe high in his hands. In shadows and moonlight, with his hair going every which way, George appeared demented. He grinned. “Well, this appears to be it.”
“What is ‘it,’ George?” Matt tried to keep his voice steady.
