A Rose in Winter (79 page)

Haggard had climbed inside the coach, and a musket roared as he followed Christopher's lead.

"Got 'em!" he cried in enthusiasm as Christopher swung inside. His feet had no more than left the ground than Tanner slapped the reins and set the team in motion.

Sheriff Parker jerked his arm toward the departing conveyance. "After them! Don't let them out of your sight! I know where they're going, but I want you to nip at their tails all the way home!" As some more men swung up on their steeds to give chase, he yelled to one, "Ride and get more men! Join us at Saxton Hall! I'll be along after I see to that Talbot brat!"

Parker ground his teeth as he strode across the courtyard toward the tower. He had come into Lord Talbot's services more than five years ago, though a bit more than three of those had been as the sheriff. It had been a guise both of them had laughed about, but it had helped to lead suspicion away from him. It had been his own idea to burn the east wing of the manor after Edmund Saxton had ridden into their camp by accident and recognized him among the raiders. Talbot had heartily agreed with the deed, of course, for he had hated the Saxtons from the first and coveted their wealth and lands. Some score years ago his lordship had led his own raid on Saxton Hall and had slain the old lord when his accusations of treachery against Broderick Saxton had been dismissed as having no merit. Though Talbot had friends at Court still pleading for his cause to cast the Saxtons from their lands, it seemed that that family also had acquaintances just as powerful working to reestablish the Saxton house and honor.

Despite all of Talbot's efforts, however, things were going swiftly awry. Christopher Seton was to blame for much of it. It seemed he had no more than touched feet on the soil of these northern climes but that he began to thwart and torment them. He had frightened Timmy Sears near to death, and Timmy, the big man that he was, had come blubbering of all he had confessed to the night rider. He had held back the names of the leaders and therefore had to be slain before he also spilled that information. Ben Mose had also known more than he should have, and it was for that reason he was killed. Now, with Seton free to wreak vengeance for the taking of his woman, their woes were sure to increase. Claudia would be the first one of those to surmount.

Parker stepped over the inert bodies of his men in the tower and took the stairs three at a time. He stepped into the cell cautiously and frowned at the scene that greeted him, most of all at the black-garbed figure beside the table. With saber drawn, he approached carefully from behind and quickly snatched the leather helm free. The curled coiffure of Claudia Talbot greeted him before her head turned and her glare came upon him. Her eyes fairly crackled with rage. He loosed the gag but realized his mistake as she launched into a venomous tirade.

"You fools! Could you not see that Christopher was playing a game with you?! He is Lord Saxton!"

The sheriff's surprise dwindled readily as the full realization dawned. Of course! Why did he not think of it himself? Timmy Sears had whined that the night rider was the lord of Saxton Hall who had returned from the dead to haunt him.

Fool! he thought. You let that many-faced man deceive you with his tricks!

Claudia was not timid about placing the blame on someone else, quickly forgetting that she had also been duped. As he labored at the knots that held her imprisoned, Allan heard his reputation besmirched—nay, flogged and slain—his parentage reviewed with rampant speculations as to its legitimacy and content of humankind, and even a few choice epithets leveled at her sire. By the time he freed her, he was of the firm opinion that his own well-seasoned soldier's adjectives had just been put to shame.

Claudia threw off the long black cloak and grabbed up the iridescent blue gown Erienne had left. As she pulled it over her head, she spoke through the cloth, "I want to see that bastard drawn and quartered before this day is through!"

The skirts settled over her petticoats, and Claudia reached up to pull the bodice together. Her eyes widened and her face flamed as the two edges refused to meet around her waist, leaving a gap as wide as the breadth of a large man's hand.

Allan choked as he tried to subdue his laughter and won a heated glare for his effort.

"Help me to fasten it!" she barked.

"I fear there's no time," he replied and refrained from indicating that it would be a hopeless task. He had often observed the trim, well-curved form of the Saxton wench, and though the two women favored somewhat in looks (though there, too, Claudia was wanting), that had not been true of their shapes.

A moment later they were striding across the courtyard toward the Talbot carriage, and as Claudia struggled to keep from stumbling over the long ends of Lord Saxton's black cloak, Allan strenuously stressed the need for her to return home.

" 'Twill be no place for a woman," he argued.

"I insist! I want to see Erienne's face when you cut down her husband."

Allan sighed wearily. He already knew that neither of the Talbots were the forgiving sort and were rather bloodthirsty when they set to the path of revenge. "You have your coach. I cannot stop you, but your father will deal with me harshly if some harm comes to you."

Claudia's head raised slightly as she looked past his arm, then she smiled smugly. "The blame for this at least needn't be placed on your head. My father is coming now. He will take me with him."

Allan mentally sighed his relief and went to meet the coach as it swept through the gates. Before it even halted, Lord Talbot was at the window.

"Was that Saxton's coach I passed down the road a piece?" he demanded.

"Aye!" Allan replied. "And we must be after him. Lord Saxton is none other than Christopher Seton."

The gasp that accompanied Talbot's explosive expletive made the three glance at each other in bemusement.

"What was that?" Talbot barked, looking around. He was sure the sound had come from behind him.

"It doesn't matter! We must be off if we hope to get to Saxton Hall with the men."

"I'm coming with you, Papa!" Claudia declared, reaching up to open the door.

"The hell you are!"

"I am!" Claudia flung the door wide. It hit the side of the coach with a resounding crash that made Avery's ears ring as he huddled in the boot.

"Dammit, girl! Have you no mind?" Talbot roared. "This is war!"

"I now hate the Saxtons as much as you do, Papa, and you're not going to cheat me out of seeing Christopher Saxton laid low! Now, move over! You know I hate riding backward."

Talbot had given many orders to many men, but once again he failed to win his point with his much-coddled daughter. The muscles in his face tightened with suppressed ire, but nonetheless he slid over, making room for his offspring. His brows came together in a sharp frown as the black cloak parted, revealing the open bodice of the blue gown.

"What happened to your clothes?" he questioned sharply and suspiciously glanced toward the sheriff. He might have dallied with scores of harlots and easy wenches himself, but he had always demanded more of a moral code for his only daughter.

" 'Twas Christopher!" Claudia explained bluntly as the carriage began to swing around in the courtyard. "He made me undress, and he gave my gown to Erienne. He said it was gaudy and held a sword at my throat, threatening to kill me. I think he would have, too." She began to mewl and then to sob, sniffing dramatically. "Oh, Papa, it was terrible! He's such a madman. No telling how many men he's killed getting her free. Why, look at them." She gestured out the window. "Does the sight of those dead men convince you of the danger I was in?"

The coach crossed the planks of the bridge and gained speed rapidly, hitting ground with a jarring jolt that brought Avery's teeth together with a solid "clunk" and restored the pain to his bruised body. He would have moaned his misery but was afraid the Talbots would hear him. Thus he suffered in silence... for once.

The racing team plunged ever onward, sweeping the Saxton coach through the vales and over the hills, ever shadowed by the shifting flock of riders that flowed out behind. Christopher had bade Tanner to ease the pace of the racing steeds to save them for the long ride to Saxton Hall. Almost immediately there was a surge forward of the horde who trailed them, but they were quickly dissuaded by the long-reaching Yankee rifles, which seemed to pluck them from their saddles at the will of Lord Saxton and that one they had most recently considered naught but a bumbling oaf. Haggard proved his own skill with the weapons and, more than once, scattered the chasing flock by sending one of the brigands tumbling in their midst.

With the easier gait, it was not long before the sheriff, riding just ahead of the Talbot coach and joined by other men, overtook the ones who followed the Saxtons. A cackle of glee came from Claudia as she saw ahead of them the prey they sought.

"We've got them now!" she exclaimed and jiggled her father's arm excitedly. "They won't be able to escape."

Nigel Talbot, himself, was elated, but wondered why the band had not already swarmed around the conveyance and dragged them to a halt. Leaning out the window, he saw that the sheriff had pulled back his mount to match the pace of his men rather than lead a charge forward. It incensed Talbot that Parker could waste the advantage of having Saxton outnumbered and so close within their grasp.

Talbot barked an order up to his driver, who in compliance pressed the team on ahead until the men on horseback were forced to move aside or test the wicked shot of another rifle by riding ahead. They were eager for a respite and did not argue because some had to draw back behind the Talbot carriage.

"Why haven't your men stopped them?" his lordship barked at Parker, who came to ride beside the door. "You've got weapons! Use them to kill the driver. That should bring them to a halt."

"Pistols and muskets are useless," Parker yelled back over the din of the thudding hooves. "Whenever a man tries to get close enough to use them, Saxton lets loose with one of those damn rifles Avery told us about."

"Damn!" The expletive exploded from Talbot's tightening lips, and his rage mounted as he questioned, "Is there not one among you who is willing to take the chance?"

Parker had felt the chiding taunts of his men much too often when he had ordered them to risk their lives not to give vent to his own frustrations now. "You are welcome to try it yourself, my lord, if you are prepared to face the results."

Talbot's visage grew red with rage, and his eyes blazed. He picked up the challenge, but not in such a way as to threaten his own life. "Set a marksman on top of my coach and double-load an Ol' Bess. That should reach them well enough as we pull forward."

Parker doubted the results but did as he was commanded. Soon a man with a large-bore musket was swinging from his racing steed onto the coach and climbing to take a place beside the driver. The coachman urged the team forward, and the marksman, bracing himself against the swaying ride, took careful aim. He squeezed the trigger, and instead of a sharp report, a hollow, double-throated roar came forth. There was a sudden yelp from the driver as the gun backfired, flipping the one who had held it onto his back. The man's eyes stared wide from a face that was a bloody, mangled mess, and with a last twitch of his legs, he lay still.

"What happened?" Claudia inquired eagerly. "Did he kill the driver? Did he stop them?"

Parker gestured to the coachman, who nudged the dead man over the side. The body tumbled to the road, giving the occupants a start as it fell past the window. Allan Parker did not hide the smirk that turned his lips as he reined his mount close to the carriage door.

"Have you cannon for the task, my lord?" he asked snidely. "I fear less is hardly equal to the task."

At his lordship's orders, the Talbot coach pulled back, letting the gang of highwaymen pass them. Though the effort was continually made to harass the Saxton conveyance, none was successful in daunting the determination of the group it carried. When the attempt was made to ride out wide and then move around the coach to halt it from the fore, the obstacles proved too much to overcome. If the rugged terrain allowed it, then the riders presented themselves as easy prey to the long rifles, or Tanner would once again stoke up the team to a breakneck pace that could not be overtaken.

Thus the entourage, such as it was, gained the Saxton lands. Tenants paused where they stood to gawk at the passersby. It was the crack of the Yankee rifle from the familiar Saxton coach and the resulting fall of another brigand from the saddle that bespoke of the seriousness of this procession. Anger flared in their hearts as they realized that another Saxton lord was being threatened. Spurred to action, they grabbed pitchforks, axes, scythes, clubs, old muskets, and an odd assortment of anything worthy of being a weapon. Like angry hornets they swarmed in the direction of the manor house, scrambling as fast as their legs could carry them.

The Saxton carriage swept up to the tower portal and pulled to a halt with wheels locked as Tanner stood on the brakes and sawed on the reins. While Haggard and Bundy discouraged the onrushing flock, Christopher threw open the door and leapt out. He turned to lift Erienne down, then scooped up the rifles and followed his wife through the central portal. Bundy and Haggard pushed through behind them as Tanner took the coach out of the way of the crossfire.

The returning party was met just inside the great chamber by Paine, who seemed somewhat confused by the presence of Christopher Seton instead of the master of the house. Behind him, Aggie wept in her apron, which was gathered in both hands and pressed to her mouth. Tessie stood in the background, elated to see her mistress but bewildered by the housekeeper's manner. Only a few moments prior, before they had heard the rattle of wheels, the elder woman had been comforting her and assuring her that all would end well. Perhaps with the absence of Lord Saxton, Tessie mused, the housekeeper perceived some ill had befallen him and was already mourning his loss.