The maid nodded. “Can’t be hobbling along.” She studied their handiwork. “This won’t work close up, but you’ll do,” she pronounced.
A knock interrupted them. “Night is upon us, Fanny. We need to be off,” Eli called through the door.
Fanny stepped out, and Eli’s jaw dropped. He stared but said nothing, as if he’d swallowed his tongue at the sight of her in her brother’s spare trousers.
“Susan’s suggestion and a practical one,” she told him briskly. We were going to cut my hair, but there wasn’t time.”
“Thank God for that much!” he said.
Her auburn tresses had been pulled back in a tether. She lifted her hair to stuff it under Wil’s hat while Eli’s warm gaze raked her from her black half-boots to the place where the shirt stretched across her chest, tightened by her uplifted arms. “No one will believe you’re a boy. Trust me on that, Fanny.”
She almost got lost in his heated gaze before he tore his eyes away. “Goodfellow is waiting in the stable.”
She reached for his hand and took a firm hold on it and her courage. The corporal met them with two horses, one of them his own. His eyes widened at Fanny in boys’ clothing before he quickly looked away.
Two pistols and a pouch of shot lay on a bench next to Goodfellow. “Miss Hancock, this is the carriage pistol, the one you made good use of before. It is loaded. I found a shoulder holster for it. Are you comfortable carrying it?”
When Fanny hesitated, Eli said, “I can carry both. If we happen to need it, I’ll hand it to her.”
The corporal nodded his approval. “Benson, I have given you Reilly’s pistol and kept his musket. Agree?”
Eli nodded grimly. “Sensible,” he muttered.
“With luck, you won’t need them,” Goodfellow said.
The two horses, saddled and ready, fitted with saddlebags, drew the party’s attention next.
Goodfellow patted his horse—his personal mount—with pride. “I suggest we put Miss Hancock on this fellow. He’s steady and has had a bit of rest. He can get you safely to Ashmead.” Goodfellow shrugged. “This other is one of the bandits’ horses. He appears to be a sturdy fellow if a bit skittery. You can manage him, Benson.” Eli helped Fanny up and mounted the other horse, bringing it under control when it sidled nervously.
With that, Eli and Fanny—dressed in dark clothes and armed as heavily as their little party could spare—walked two horses from the innyard and disappeared into the night, heading roughly northwest.
