“I’m sure Mama will be mostgrateful.”
“Did you recognize yourattacker?”
She shook her head while continuing tostroke her mother’s limp hand.
“Did he steal fromyou?”
“No. I suppose hepanicked.”
When she met his gaze somethingunspoken hovered in the air. As if she wanted to saymore.
Lady Butterstone stirred.
“Mama, can you sit up? Takea little brandy? This gentleman is Captain Ryder. Papa asked him totake us home.”
Jack addressed the prostrate lady.“I’m told you’ve lost your groom, my lady. I’ll see to your coach.And when you are stronger, I’ll escort you both safely to IvywoodHall.”
Lady Butterstone blinked at himbewildered. “Thank you.”
Jack crossed the room to where Peckwaited. “Have the parish constable, and the magistrate been sentfor?”
Peck nodded. “Sent my ostler. Sadbusiness. Butterstone was much liked in these parts.”
“Any idea who was behindthe attack? I wasn’t aware of highwaymen roaming this part of thecountryside.”
“They haven’t been seenaround here for years,” Peck said. “I don’t know who the murdereris, but the locals will be worried.”
Outside in the cold damp air, thecoachman walked the horses. The poor man appeared cold anddefeated.
“Jack Ryder. Nastybusiness.”
“John Mullins, sir. WillLord Butterstone recover?”
“I’m afraid he’sgone.”
Mullins lowered his head. “They wereboth good men. Didn’t deserve to be cut down like that.”
“Tell me how ithappened.”
The coachman wiped his nose with hissleeve. “Blast and bugger your eyes, that rogue galloped straightup to us from out of the trees. Shot the groom, Bert, who satbeside me on the box without a how do you do. Bert was armed, buthe might as well not have been. He was holding a lantern and had notime to raise the gun. Then his lordship stepped out of the coach,apparently to reason with the rogue, and was gunned down in coldblood. The murderous devil turned his horse and rode off. Made noattempt to rob her ladyship who was screaming fit to burst. Andthose diamonds of hers must be worth a king’s ransom.”
Not a robber then.“What did this gunman look like?”
The coachman shrugged. “Wore ahandkerchief over his lower face and his hat pulled low. Tall inthe saddle, decent roan.”
“I’m to ride with you toIvywood Hall.”
The coachman nodded, looking pleased.“Lady Butterstone will be relieved to have a big strong fellow likeyou, guarding her, if you’ll forgive me for saying so.”
Jack retrieved his portmanteau fromthe bedchamber, loaded his gun and shoved it into his coat pocket.After he paid Peck for the bed he never slept in, he went to thestable to saddle Arion. It had stopped raining. The clouds hadshifted away; the landscape cast in a chiaroscuro of silverymoonlight and deep purple shadows. Even with the carriage lampslit, visibility would be poor, and the roads pot-holed and muddy.Jack checked the sky to the north. An ominous wall of midnight darkclouds lurked on the horizon. It begged the question of why LordButterstone had chosen to travel so late at night, and in thisinclement weather.
It was going to be an unpleasant andpossibly dangerous ride to Ivywood Hall.
~~~
Erina and Harry’s conversation lapsedwhilst they concentrated on scrambling down the steep path.Although he had managed to whistle a lively tune.
“You don’t act like a manwith a broken heart, sir,” she commented, once they’d reached levelground.
