One
HUDSON RIVER VALLEY
SPRING 1889
Being chased by highwaymen was certainly cause for concern, as was the idea she was in imminent danger of losing her seat because riding sidesaddle, and while dressed in the most fashionable of riding habits, was not exactly conducive to escaping from a most dire situation.
Leaning over the neck of her horse, Fiona, an unpredictable mare at the best of times, and this certainly wasn’t the best of times, Miss Camilla Pierpont cemented her grip on the saddle pommel, wondering how she was going to escape her pursuers with her life intact and how she’d even landed in such a predicament in the first place.
She was not a lady prone to unfortunate predicaments, having acquired the reputation of being one of the most consummate ladies to ever grace the Four Hundred some eight years before when she’d made her debut.
Consummate ladies did not find themselves fearing for their lives often, if ever, but that certainly seemed to be what she was facing now.
Why the men had singled her out was bewildering to say the least because, being not quite nine in the morning, it wasn’t as if she were sporting any Pierpont jewels. She also didn’t have a single coin on her because she didn’t have a reason to carry funds during her morning jaunts. The objective of her early gallops was to gather her thoughts for the day before she was obligated to attend the many society functions that were expected of a lady who held such a renowned societal position.
Gathering any thoughts at all at this particular moment was next to impossible, and the few thoughts that were whizzing through her mind were random at best, such as why she’d had the brilliant idea to secure a single-shot derringer she’d recently learned to operate to her leg by means of a garter, something that had seemed quite risqué when she’d slipped on the derringer that morning, but now seemed downright ridiculous. It wasn’t as if she could access the derringer, what with the many layers of undergarments she was wearing, as well as the heavy fabric that made up her oh-so-fashionable but rather cumbersome riding habit.
“This is hardly the moment for such a disclosure, but I’ve decided I’m a complete ninny, because stowing my pistol in a saddlebag was an utterly ludicrous decision,” Lottie McBriar, Camilla’s recently hired paid companion, who’d once been in the employ of Frank Fitzsimmons, an underworld criminal boss, suddenly exclaimed, drawing Camilla’s attention. “It’s not as if I can retrieve the pistol when I’m having a difficult time simply maintaining my seat.”
Camilla winced when Serenity, the horse she’d personally chosen for Lottie since she normally gave a smooth and steady ride, took that moment to lurch to the right as she galloped unevenly down the lane, almost unseating poor Lottie in the process.
“You’re doing a marvelous job, Lottie, especially when you take into consideration you never rode a horse before you started working for me,” Camilla said. “As for the pistol business, stowing one in a saddlebag is definitely a better choice over where I decided to stow mine today.”
Lottie’s eyes widened. “Please tell me you haven’t stashed your derringer in your bodice because ... one wrong bump and you could be missing one of your, ah, charms.”
“Stuffing a pistol down my bodice would be almost as impractical as where I actually stashed it, which is on my leg, but since neither of us seem to have embraced an attitude of practicality this morning, I’m afraid we’re both soon going to be dead,” Camilla said as they took a turn in the road, Fiona tossing her head when Serenity came a little too close. She chanced a glance over her shoulder and frowned when she realized the men were no longer in sight. “Think they might have given up?”
“It’s more likely they’ve taken a shortcut through the forest in the hopes of intercepting us.”
“You think they’re intending on an ambush?”
“That would be my best guess, which means we should take this opportunity to change direction and head for the river. It might be a rough ride, but it would give us a better chance of escaping them instead of riding into a trap.”
Camilla reined Fiona to a stop, wincing again when Serenity, evidently taking that as a sign she could discontinue galloping, something she rarely did, preferring to plod instead, stopped moving with no warning, sending Lottie lurching forward and grabbing hold of the horse’s mane to keep from flying over Serenity’s head.
“Are you alright?” Camilla asked as Lottie pushed herself upright.
“I’ll be fine once we get out of harm’s way and I can get off this horse, but for now...” Lottie nodded to a thick grove of trees. “You go first.”
“Absolutely not,” Camilla argued. “You’re the fledgling equestrian. You go first so I can come to your assistance if you find yourself in trouble.”
“Me losing my seat is the least of our worries since you’re obviously the target this morning.”
“I would think we’re both targets of those highwaymen.”
“And I beg to differ because I’m acquainted with men who spend their time robbing travelers, and no self-respecting highwayman would waste their time on two women out for a morning ride.” Lottie glanced over her shoulder. “Those men chasing us are kidnappers, if I’m not mistaken, and you, being a grand heiress, are certainly in their sights.”
“Kidnappers?” Camilla repeated. “But that doesn’t make sense because surely they wouldn’t think I’d go along peacefully if they were able to catch us, and I certainly wouldn’t willingly ride along on the back of one of their horses.”
Lottie’s mouth suddenly went slack. “Good heavens, I truly am a ninny because they weren’t trying tocatchus—they wereherdingus, and ... we need to get out of here.” With that, Lottie sent Camilla a pointed look, but before Camilla could do more than steer Fiona toward the trees, the sound of carriage wheels reverberating down the road captured her attention.
A second later, a black coach, flanked by five men, sped into view.
Fear left her immobile for the briefest of seconds until a blast that sounded like a cannon rang out, and that was all it took for Fiona to rear into the air right before she turned and bolted down the road the way they’d just come. Camilla held on for dear life as they rounded a turn in the road, right as a second resounding boom split the air.
A mere heartbeat later, Fiona was rearing once again, but this time Camilla was unable to retain her seat and found herself tumbling head over heels through the air as Fiona thundered away.
An “oomph” escaped her when she hit the ground, but knowing she was now a sitting target, she forced herself to her feet, then stilled when the sound of pounding hooves drawing closer left her with the distinct impression that someone was almost upon her, which meant ... she needed to bring out the derringer.
