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Authors: Johanna Lindsey
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asked.
“Maybe,” Jeremy said. “She’s small. It could be done, so we probably shouldn’t discount it.”
“If we’re discussing all possibilities, they could take her anywhere without sneaking about if they’ve threatened her into being quiet,” Boyd pointed out. “Would she do as she’s told? Or is she brave enough to yell for help?”
Anthony slammed his fist sideways into the wall of the coach. “She’s probably too terrified to do anything!”
Jeremy tried to ignore the outburst from his distraught uncle and told Boyd, “She’s as gutsy as my sister Jack is, and too smart to do anything foolish. Why don’t you check the inns. I really can’t see them being stupid enough to use an inn where other people might notice, but we have to cover all possibilities. My uncle and I will drive around and look out for abandoned buildings.”
“You keep supposing they aren’t stupid, but I have to disagree,” Boyd said. “They did this. They’re damn stupid. But I know what I need to do and where to meet you two later to report my progress, so I’ll take off now and get started on the search. Hopefully I’ll have some news by the time you roll into town.”
They stopped long enough for Boyd to get his horse and ride off. As much as they’d like to, they couldn’t all race toward Northampton. That would attract attention. The coach was going to progress in a normal manner, while Boyd would reach the town an hour or two sooner.
Grimly thinking about what he was going to do if he got his hands on the people who did this, Boyd almost didn’t see the wild woman turning her coach around in the middle of the road. On horseback, he merely moved around the ancient vehicle, thinking the woman shouldn’t be driving if she didn’t know how to turn around without blocking the entire road.
“Wait up, mon,” the wild-haired woman shouted at him. “I’m looking for my daughter. The lass has run away from home again. Ha’ ye seen—”
Boyd didn’t stop, but shouted back, “I’ve seen no women today other than you.”
“I’m no’ that auld, mon, tae be having a grown child yet,” she called back in an offended tone.
Boyd was running out of patience. He’d already been stopped twice for directions that he couldn’t give. He was following directions himself!
So he said simply, “I’ve seen no females of any sort. Good day.” And he rode on.
He made good time after that, galloping past other vehicles going his way, avoiding those heading south. But about twenty minutes later, a red-haired gent racing down the road on a horse pulled up to hail him.
“Ha’ ye seen a Scotswomon heading this way?”
Boyd didn’t answer, he just pointed his thumb behind him and rode on. Busy road, but if anyone else tried to stop him, he might just speak with the pistol in his pocket.
Chapter Eight
G EORDIE C AMERON WAS TERRIFIED. He should just go home and leave his wife, Maisie, to her own devices. If she ever returned to Scotland, she’d find a divorce waiting for her, or a jail cell.
Sleep on it, she’d said? He’d wanted her to sleep on it so they could agree in the morning to take the child home and never do anything so stupid again. That was the only outcome that would allow him to forgive Maisie. But he’d woken to an empty room and a scrawled note that the child had escaped.
Well, good for her, had been his first thought, although he couldn’t imagine how she’d done it after Maisie had tied her to the bed, but he’d hoped that was the end of it.
He’d packed his bag, found that his driver and coach were waiting where they should be, and asked the innkeeper where his wife was. The man hadn’t seen her, but in a gossiping mood, mentioned that someone had come looking for an old coach that had been stolen. And that’s when the fear came back.
He was afraid his wife had gone looking for the girl again, and if she found her, that she’d continue with her extortion plans. Then Anthony
“Maybe,” Jeremy said. “She’s small. It could be done, so we probably shouldn’t discount it.”
“If we’re discussing all possibilities, they could take her anywhere without sneaking about if they’ve threatened her into being quiet,” Boyd pointed out. “Would she do as she’s told? Or is she brave enough to yell for help?”
Anthony slammed his fist sideways into the wall of the coach. “She’s probably too terrified to do anything!”
Jeremy tried to ignore the outburst from his distraught uncle and told Boyd, “She’s as gutsy as my sister Jack is, and too smart to do anything foolish. Why don’t you check the inns. I really can’t see them being stupid enough to use an inn where other people might notice, but we have to cover all possibilities. My uncle and I will drive around and look out for abandoned buildings.”
“You keep supposing they aren’t stupid, but I have to disagree,” Boyd said. “They did this. They’re damn stupid. But I know what I need to do and where to meet you two later to report my progress, so I’ll take off now and get started on the search. Hopefully I’ll have some news by the time you roll into town.”
They stopped long enough for Boyd to get his horse and ride off. As much as they’d like to, they couldn’t all race toward Northampton. That would attract attention. The coach was going to progress in a normal manner, while Boyd would reach the town an hour or two sooner.
Grimly thinking about what he was going to do if he got his hands on the people who did this, Boyd almost didn’t see the wild woman turning her coach around in the middle of the road. On horseback, he merely moved around the ancient vehicle, thinking the woman shouldn’t be driving if she didn’t know how to turn around without blocking the entire road.
“Wait up, mon,” the wild-haired woman shouted at him. “I’m looking for my daughter. The lass has run away from home again. Ha’ ye seen—”
Boyd didn’t stop, but shouted back, “I’ve seen no women today other than you.”
“I’m no’ that auld, mon, tae be having a grown child yet,” she called back in an offended tone.
Boyd was running out of patience. He’d already been stopped twice for directions that he couldn’t give. He was following directions himself!
So he said simply, “I’ve seen no females of any sort. Good day.” And he rode on.
He made good time after that, galloping past other vehicles going his way, avoiding those heading south. But about twenty minutes later, a red-haired gent racing down the road on a horse pulled up to hail him.
“Ha’ ye seen a Scotswomon heading this way?”
Boyd didn’t answer, he just pointed his thumb behind him and rode on. Busy road, but if anyone else tried to stop him, he might just speak with the pistol in his pocket.
Chapter Eight
G EORDIE C AMERON WAS TERRIFIED. He should just go home and leave his wife, Maisie, to her own devices. If she ever returned to Scotland, she’d find a divorce waiting for her, or a jail cell.
Sleep on it, she’d said? He’d wanted her to sleep on it so they could agree in the morning to take the child home and never do anything so stupid again. That was the only outcome that would allow him to forgive Maisie. But he’d woken to an empty room and a scrawled note that the child had escaped.
Well, good for her, had been his first thought, although he couldn’t imagine how she’d done it after Maisie had tied her to the bed, but he’d hoped that was the end of it.
He’d packed his bag, found that his driver and coach were waiting where they should be, and asked the innkeeper where his wife was. The man hadn’t seen her, but in a gossiping mood, mentioned that someone had come looking for an old coach that had been stolen. And that’s when the fear came back.
He was afraid his wife had gone looking for the girl again, and if she found her, that she’d continue with her extortion plans. Then Anthony
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