“Thanks,” Caleb said, smiling at the horse and patting its neck. “Any idea when the next train goes through Staveley?”
“There’s one at seven,” the footman said. “You’ve only got half an hour to catch it, though, and there isn’t another until morning.”
“We’ll gallop,” Caleb told him.
The footman shook his head worriedly. “It’ll be dark soon. And there’s rain coming.”
“Then we’ll get wet,” Caleb said.
“You might develop pneumonia,” the footman persisted, apparently dedicated to maintaining Ravenscroft Manor’s miserable gothic atmosphere.
“We’ll be fine,” Caleb assured him—or perhaps disappointed him, judging from his expression—then turned to help Amelia into the saddle. But just at that moment, Sergeant Sheffield jogged up. He was rather more breathless than a professional soldier ought to have been after such brief exercise, and his eyes seemed wild.
“You have to stop!” he urged, holding up a hand like some kind of traffic controller as he staggered to a halt.
Amelia stared in astonishment. This was the first she’d heard him speak, and his reedy, high-pitched voice so contradicted her imagination that she could not summon a word in reply.
“What’s the matter?” Caleb asked. “Did something explode again? Please say it was Throckmorton’s pipe.”
“Caleb,” Amelia murmured. They had a thief to apprehend and a college to save; this was no time for jesting. And evidently Sergeant Sheffield agreed with her, for he produced a pistol from beneath his coat and, gripping it in both hands (which was a lot more frightening than with just one), he pointed it directly at Caleb.
“I have urgent business and I need that horse. Stand aside or I’ll make it so you can’t stand at all.”
“Oh God, not again,” Caleb groaned. “Why are people being so mean to me today?” He stepped protectively in front of Amelia, which was swooningly gallant of him—but unfortunately she also stepped protectively in front of him at the same time, and they collided. There followed a brief tangle of limbs as they each strove to get ahead of the other, stopping onlywhen Sheffield discharged his pistol into the air. The horse startled, almost tugging its reins from the footman’s grip, but Amelia and Caleb immediately froze, clutching each other.
“Et tu, Sheffield?” Caleb said with dismay.
“No, I haven’tet,” the sergeant retorted. “And why the bloody hell do you care about my dinner? Stand back, I say!”
Amelia and Caleb (and the footman) obeyed, for there is no wisdom in arguing with a man who doesn’t understand basic Latin. Swinging up on the horse, Sheffield galloped away into the deepening twilight—leaving them in, alas, not a cloud of his dust but instead spattered with mud, thanks to all the recent rain.
“Damn that man!” Caleb shouted furiously. “My Savile Row trousers!”
“Myteaspoon,” Amelia countered.
“What kind of urgent business would he have out here, at this hour?”
Amelia shook her head with something very close to frazzlement. “I don’t know and there’s no time to discuss it.” She turned urgently to the footman. “We need another horse.”
“We could borrow one from a neighbor,” the footman replied with a shrug. “But that would take about an hour. You’re doomed, I’m afraid.”
“No, we simply must run,” Amelia said resolutely. Her brain knew this was a daft idea, considering the distance that must be covered while wearing a long skirt (her) and expensively inadequate shoes (Caleb). Her lungs cowered at the pain they knew was to come. But her heart was full of determination. She taught university students; she could doanything!
“Well then, cut across the fields to the road,” the footmanadvised, pointing the way. “And remember, it’s not the thief you’re racing but the train. If you get to Staveley before it, you’ll have time to catch her.”
Amelia marveled at this excellent advice but feared telling him so in case he demanded her pearl earrings in payment. Settling for just a grateful nod, she turned to Caleb.
“Ready?”
Abandoning a futile effort to brush clean his trousers, he met her eyes with the cool professionalism that overtook him in extreme situations like this. “Let’s go,” he said.
They began to run.
—
Five minutes later,they slowed to a jog.
—
