Von Bremen turned to her. Without a word, he raised the butt of the rifle and struck her on the chin. A sharp pain then blackness descended.
*
“Ray! For God’ssake. You fool.” Andrew jumped from his horse and dragged the injured man away from Ivo’s line of fire.
“Does he live?” Strathairn asked dismounting.
“Yes. Hit him in the shoulder.” Andrew padded the wound with his handkerchief. “He’s bleeding heavily. We must get him to a doctor.”
Raymond opened his eyes and gave a painful grin. “Gave me a chance to make amends,” he said, then collapsed unconscious in Andrew’s arms. Andrew gently laid his cousin onto the ground.
“I’ll take him there,” Irvine said. He bent down and scooped Raymond up as if he weighed little more than a boy, then settled him over his horse. “Lord Strathairn is a superb marksman. If he can get a clear shot, the man is dead. Good luck, milords.” Irvine mounted and turned the horse’s head, riding away with Raymond hanging limply before him.
“Miss Harrismith’s scream gave Ray enough time to take evasive action.” Andrew gazed through the branches at the rocky escarpment. “Please God, the devil hasn’t hurt her. We’ll have to act quickly. Ivo has chosen this place with care. It’s impossible for us to reach him without placing ourselves in the line of fire. How best to get this villain, John?”
“He’s holed up there on that ridge, all right,” Strathairn observed, squinting into the sun. “Is there a way to reach the top of the cliff?”
“It’s a taxing climb, but yes, on the eastern side where it’s more timbered.”
“We need to take him before he starts bargaining with the governess’s life,” Strathairn said, checking his guns. “I’ll go.”
“No, better I do. Won’t know if I have a clear shot until I get up there.” Andrew shielded his eyes to view the straggling trees atop the cliff. “Seems there’s a straight drop down to that ridge. I can’t see anything to impede a shot. Not from this angle at any rate. If there is it will prove a prime distraction, at least. And give you a chance to take him out while he’s busy defending himself…” He turned around. Strathairn had gone.
Andrew gave Strathairn time to make his way around to where he could more easily climb to the top. Then he decided to invite Ivo to use up all his ammunition. “You’ve jammed yourself in, Ivo,” he yelled. “You can’t win. Surrender, and I’ll ensure you won’t hang for this.”
“You don’t expect me to believe that, Harrow,” Ivo shouted. “No way I’ll hang, because you’ll be dead.”
Bent double, Andrew changed his position. A few seconds later, a shot sent up a flurry of leaves where he’d just been crouching.
“You’re outnumbered,” Andrew yelled, and moved again. Another shot rang out. No pause to reload. How many guns did Ivo have? An arsenal? Andrew yelled again, and the answer came swiftly. Too close for comfort.
From his new vantage point, Andrew’s eyes raked the top of the bluff some sixty feet from the ground. Strathairn’s head appeared. He seemed to be lying on his belly, his rifle aimed downward. Did he have a clear shot?
“Let Miss Harrismith go and I’ll come out, Ivo,” Andrew yelled.
No answer. He couldn’t see her or any movement among the rocks. His gut twisted. Had the German hurt her? Fear and fury gripped him. Time to give Strathairn a bit of covering fire. He raised his rifle and aimed above the rocky shelf. His shot sent fragments of rock cascading down with a rumble. It was greeted by another shot from Ivo which came within a whisker of Andrew after he dropped to his knees.
Another blast echoed off the rock cliff, but this time it was from Strathairn’s rifle. Andrew waited, his pulse thudding in his ears.
Silence.
Strathairn edged back away from the cliff and disappeared. Had he managed to bring Ivo down?
No answering fire, but Andrew couldn’t wait, he had to get to Jenny. He tossed down his rifle, snatched up a pistol and burst forth, leaping over the bracken and rocks and began to climb. Nothing stirred. On reaching the ledge, he shoved his pistol into the back of his breeches and vaulted up, edging around the rocks. Ivo lay sprawled out, his eyes staring sightlessly, surrounded by guns and ammunition. Not far from him was a slim feminine form, her brown curls spread out around her, lying as still as a statue.
“Jenny!” On his knees, Andrew gathered her in his arms. He gasped as her head rolled back.
Her eyelashes fluttered but failed to rise.
“Alive! Thank God!” Andrew murmured as his heaving chest eased.
Strathairn appeared behind him. “Is Miss Harrismith badly hurt?”
“He hit her. There’s a nasty bruise and swelling on her chin. She must have fallen and knocked her head.” Andrew was vaguely aware of how much his voice shook. It earned a sidelong glance from Strathairn. “I need to get her home.”
He hefted her slight body in his arms, her long hair escaping its pins, and began to make his way down the rocky slope with Strathairn following. “A fine piece of shooting, Strathairn,” he said over his shoulder.
“Lucky I didn’t follow the shot down,” Strathairn said. “Had to lean out and wedge my feet into the tree roots. I would have called out after I’d shot him, but I wasn’t sure he was dead, and I didn’t want you to break cover.”
“I am extremely grateful, my friend.” Andrew was aware that a tremor still shook his voice. Was he blighted to lose those he cared for? No. God could not be so cruel. Greta! She had lost her brother, and would be devastated by what had happened. Andrew’s rage at Ivo was too raw, his thoughts were all for this innocent young woman in his arms.
Strathairn glanced at him again, his eyes questioning. “Glad to have got the devil.”
When they reached where the horses were tied up, Strathairn assisted Andrew to lift Jenny onto his saddle. Andrew mounted behind her. She lay limply within his arms so deeply unconscious that it scared him. He kicked the horse’s flanks and rode for home. “Jenny, Jenny, sweetheart, don’t die,” he murmured. “I couldn’t bear it.”
