Runaway (29 page)

‘Yes. They’re yours if my horse is safe.’

‘It’s not your horse, though, is it?’ The murderer’s voice was horribly familiar, smooth and educated as I remembered it. It brought back memories of that dreadful day in London. ‘She’s stolen!’ the voice continued. ‘I saw you ride away from Deerhurst on her!’

I shivered at the idea he had watched me ride away that day. ‘You followed me here?’

‘No, I guessed you’d come here. I knew all about Henry Bridges. I told you, you couldn’t escape me! Hand over the papers!’

‘You won’t get the papers unless I get Belle back safe,’ I assured him, backing carefully towards the water. ‘I’ll throw them in the sea!’

To prove my point, I pulled them from my shirt and held them out over the waves that now swirled around my feet.

A large shadow emerged from the darkness before me and loomed closer. The partially-shuttered lantern that he’d put down on the sand cast an eerie light. What I saw made me cry out in fright. Belle was held tightly on a leading rope attached to her halter. Her eyes showed their whites in fear and her ears were flat against her head. Standing beside her, holding a gleaming knife to her jugular, was my father’s murderer. I could not mistake those pale, cold eyes, gleaming in the lantern-light.

‘No!’ I cried. ‘Please put the knife down! I’ll give you the papers, I swear!’

He backed away from the water a little, Belle fighting for her head. I was terrified she would make an unexpected move and receive a fatal cut.

‘Walk towards me slowly with the papers held out before you, where I can see them! No sudden moves! Don’t try anything stupid!’

Helplessly, I did as he said.

‘Keep walking!’ the man ordered as I came towards him.

Still holding Belle tightly, though the knife was no longer held against her, the man reached out and snatched the papers from my hand. ‘Now stand with your hands on your head!’ he demanded. I did so.

Retreating a short distance from me, he bent down to the lantern and examined the letters by its light. He must have been satisfied with what he saw, because he tucked them away in his own shirt.

I thought of my brother as I saw them disappear. I thought of his future and mine, stolen away by a man who had no right to anything and I felt angry at the injustice for the first time. ‘Who are you?’ I demanded. ‘Who paid you to do such dirty work? Was it Lawrence?’

‘Is it likely I’d tell you?’ the man sneered. He blew out the lantern with a quick puff and kicked it away. Tucking his knife into his belt and pulling Belle roughly to him, he vaulted onto her back. ‘No!’ I cried. Guessing he was about to gallop off on her, I sprinted towards them. But when I reached them, the murderer grasped me by the hair and pulled me back against Belle’s flank. This had been his intention all along; he’d known I would run towards him and now I was at his mercy. I saw the moonlight glint on steel as he pulled his knife from his belt. He intended to finish me the same way he had my father. ‘Did you really think I was going to let you live?’ the man hissed in my ear. ‘You know too much!’

His hold on my hair was agonizingly strong. Trapped, I leaned back and screamed, slapping at Belle to make her rear up. With an indignant neigh, she rose up on her hind legs, pawing the air. The man was forced to release me, swearing most foully as he clung on to her mane, trying to stay on her back. The moment Belle’s front hooves touched back down on the sand, he lashed out at me with the blade. I threw up my arms to protect myself, and Belle leapt forward at the same moment. As a result, the blade missed my neck, but I felt it open up a long tear in my sleeve. A hot flame of pain seared my arm.

There were sudden hoof beats nearby and I heard Henry’s voice shout out my name.

‘Henry, help!’ I screamed.

The murderer put his heels to Belle’s sides. With a snort, she leapt forward and galloped away with him, back up the beach.

In the faint light, I saw Henry wheel Cloud around to give chase. My arm was stinging as though I’d scalded it. When I put my hand to it, my whole sleeve was slick with blood. ‘Henry!’ I yelled with what strength I could muster. ‘Henry, I’m hurt!’

He checked Cloud and looked back. ‘He’s getting away!’ he called. I dropped to my knees, my vision blurring. ‘Help me!’ I said weakly. I was afraid of being left alone and bleeding in the darkness, afraid of Henry being hurt, and terrified for poor Belle.

I must have lost consciousness briefly, for the next thing I knew, Henry was kneeling beside me on the damp sand, tearing his shirt into strips to staunch the bleeding from the wound on my arm. ‘Are you with me, Charlie?’ he cried as I stirred. He drew another bandage tightly around my arm and I whimpered a little. ‘Courage!’ he said. ‘You’re a soldier’s daughter, remember? I’ve seen worse, girl. The arteries are not touched as far as I can see. You’ll live.’

‘Belle,’ I said and was shocked at how faint my voice was.

‘I’m sorry, Charlie. The damned scoundrel got away on her. But you were right to call me back. You were losing blood fast.’

When the long wound was bound up tightly, Henry caught Cloud and helped me onto his back. The moon was obscured by clouds once more and fat drops of rain had begun to fall.

‘How did you know I was here?’ I asked Henry as he led Cloud briskly along the beach. ‘Did you find the note?’

‘I did that. I came back early. I have a letter from your brother.’

‘What does he say?’

‘I haven’t read it yet. Tell me what happened!’

I briefly explained. Henry groaned. ‘He took the papers from you?’

‘Henry, I truly don’t care about them any more! They brought death on my father. I wasn’t sacrificing Belle to them as well!’

‘You can see it that way, Charlie,’ Henry replied, opening the gate at the head of the beach and leading Cloud through it. ‘Or you can look at it another way; your father died to keep those papers safe for you and your brother. You owe it to him to realize the inheritance he wanted you to have.’

A sick feeling in the pit of my stomach told me he was right. I hadn’t even succeeded in keeping Belle safe, either. The thought of my beautiful horse in that man’s power wrung my heart.

We were out on the cliff path now, the rain lashing us. My hair was plastered to my head and my clothes were soaked. We had to shout to each other to be heard. Henry halted Cloud and swung himself up behind me, urging Cloud onwards along the cliff path in the pouring rain.

Over the wind, the rain, and the crashing of the surf below us, I could just hear a faint neigh. Cloud stopped abruptly and neighed back. ‘Oh!’ I cried, sudden hope surging through me. ‘It’s Belle!’

‘It can’t be,’ said Henry, but he allowed Cloud to turn on the narrow path. The gelding stood, ears pricked forward, snorting eagerly. There was another neigh, followed by the pounding of hooves as Belle appeared, galloping towards us, nostrils flared and dark flanks heaving. At the sight of us, she slowed, raised her head, and let out another neigh. I slid clumsily down from Cloud, gasping with pain as I jarred my arm, and stumbled towards her. I leaned against her, crying with joy and relief. Belle nosed me and snorted a greeting as I patted her soaking wet neck, stroking her with my uninjured arm.

‘You clever, beautiful horse,’ I praised her. ‘Did you throw the evil man off? I hope you trampled him to death!’

The short night was fading as we reached the cottage. I refused to let Belle out of my sight, so Henry tethered both horses in the front garden, gave them an armful of hay and a bucket with some oats and helped me to the window seat in the kitchen where I could watch over them.

Henry stirred the fire, put the kettle over it, and lit a couple of candles.

‘Look!’ he said as he took my brother’s letter from his coat and handed it to me. ‘This is postmarked Portsmouth. It looks as though he has arrived in the country.’

We broke the seal and spread the letter out on the table in the pool of candlelight. ‘He’s arrived, safe and well!’ Henry said as we read. ‘He’s on his way to see me just as soon as he can arrange things. By God, that’s good news!’

‘Dear Robert,’ I said, sitting back with a small sigh. ‘Though I should prefer him to be safe in the Americas right now, I shall be so happy to see him.’

Henry reached the end of the letter, caught his breath and looked up at me. ‘Oh,’ he said in quite a different voice.

‘What is it? What’s the matter?’ I sat up, anxiously, wincing as my arm throbbed.

‘He’s changed his plans,’ Henry looked up at me. ‘There’s a postscript. Look! Robert says he has heard you are at Deerhurst Park and is going directly there to see you!’

‘But that will take him straight into danger!’ I cried. ‘And he doesn’t even know it!’

‘Pack your bag, Miss Charlotte,’ said Henry grimly. ‘And if you have any girl’s clothes, bring them. We’re going to Deerhurst.’

We stopped only to clean my wound and bind it up afresh and to take some breakfast, then we were on horseback once more, heading north-west.

‘How many days ago is Robert’s letter dated?’ I asked Henry as we cantered side by side across the downs, jumping low stone walls as we came to them. From behind one wall, sheep suddenly scattered, baaing loudly, and Belle shied, jarring my arm. I gasped.

‘Are you all right, Charlie? You’ve gone white as a sheet!’ exclaimed Henry.

‘I’m well enough. At least, I won’t be until I see my brother safe, but I’ll do.’

‘The letter was dated four days ago, but there’s no knowing when he added the postscript or when he left Portsmouth, nor how he’s travelling. We’ll ride as swiftly as we can without injuring your arm or the horses,’ Henry told me.

We covered the distance far more quickly than I had done on the way down. We used the roads and Henry was more familiar with the direction than I had been.

‘How did he know to go there, Henry?’ I asked. ‘Has he been led into a trap?’

‘Don’t worry yourself, Miss Charlotte,’ said Henry in a tight voice that betrayed his own anxiety. ‘There may be a good reason. He may not be in any danger.’

‘But … ’

‘No, Charlie, we aren’t going to talk about it.’

‘Do you at least know if father would have said anything to him about Deerhurst?’

‘I’m certain he did not before we left America. Whether he wrote to him since we parted, I can’t say.’

‘Won’t you get into trouble for leaving your post?’ I asked Henry as we rode across the border into Somersetshire.

‘There’s little enough smuggling done at this time of year,’ said Henry. ‘They’re busy getting the harvest in. Anyway, if I lose the position I shan’t repine. It’s a miserable way to earn a living.’ He gave me a strained grin. ‘If this ends well, perhaps you or Master Robert will give me a place.’

‘How would we not?’ I said at once. But a favourable outcome seemed unimaginable to me.

A long meadow stretched out ahead of us, and Henry urged Cloud into a canter. I pushed Belle faster. She responded valiantly, but she was weary after several days of hard riding. I patted her and praised her and she lengthened her stride.

We fell silent as we left Bath and started up the long hill towards Deerhurst. We rode steadily, sparing our tired horses, both our minds busy with memories and fears. I wondered where my brother was. Had he been lured into a trap? If so, by whom?

‘Henry, I can’t take Belle to Deerhurst!’ I cried as we reached the top of Lansdown Road. ‘I
stole
her! And Lord Rutherford wants to shoot her!’

‘You’ve no choice, Miss Charlotte!’ Henry replied briefly. ‘Your brother might be there already! There’s neither time nor money to conceal her anywhere other than in the park itself.’

‘My grandparents might help us,’ I said dubiously. ‘Though Mr Saunders … I don’t think he believed me. And now I no longer have any papers to prove it all to him.’

When we finally arrived at the closed lodge gates, the sun was already low in the west. Mr Saunders came out to attend us at Henry’s call.

‘Charlie!’ he gasped when he saw me on Belle.

‘Saunders,’ said Henry, stretching down a hand to him. ‘Do you recognize me? It’s been many years.’

Saunders stared at him hard with a look of puzzlement on his face. ‘It seems to me I do … Bless me! You’re Bridges’ brother!’ he exclaimed. ‘Henry Bridges!’

Mr Saunders flung open the gate and Henry slid down from Cloud and shook him by the hand.

‘Charlie tells me you doubted her,’ Henry said, wasting no time. ‘But you didn’t need to. I’ve watched her grow up. She’s your Emily’s daughter all right!’

Mr Saunders eyes found mine. ‘It’s true then?’ he said. ‘Emily did not die when she left us? And you … you really are our granddaughter?’

I nodded and the old man embraced me, then abruptly released me and turned to the lodge house. ‘Mary!’ he cried. ‘Mary, Charlie’s come back to us!’

Mrs Saunders rushed from the house and cried out as she saw me. ‘Oh, Charlie, I thought we’d lost you too! But why … ? Why did you steal that horse? Don’t you know you’re wanted by the law?’

‘Can we speak indoors?’ Henry asked.

As soon as the horses were hitched and we were in my grandparents’ tiny parlour, he poured out the whole story. Mrs Saunders began to weep softly again as he talked of my parents’ love for one another and how determined they had been to spend their lives together, no matter what sacrifices they had to make.