He grabbed the reins from between Ramble and Oscar. Both horses were blowing hard, frightened, out of control. Slowly, very slowly, he began to pull up on the reins. He kept talking to his horses, hopefully soothing nonsense, and pulling on those reins. Back further, then a bit further. The horses lurched off the narrow road, causing the carriage to spin out behind them, and now they were headed straight for the cliffs over Beachy Head.
He was inching back on Ramble’s rump to gain more leverage. He pulled and pulled, harder now, because if they didn’t stop soon, they would go crashing over the cliffs and fall some hundred feet to the beach below.
An eternity passed with the rain blinding him, the wind howling like witches from hell.
Finally, he yelled, “Ramble, Oscar, you damned bleaters, pull up! That’s an order!”
To his astonishment and utter relief, Ramble reared up on his hind legs and ripped sideways. Oscar yelled and went with him. They slowed, stumbling. Finally, after another eternity had passed, they came to a wrenching stop.
They were parallel to the cliffs. If Ramble hadn’t thrown himself sideways, they would have gone over.
Rohan was so relieved he couldn’t move. He just sat there on Ramble’s rump and breathed in huge gulps of air.
“Rohan!”
The carriage door flew open and Susannah stumbled out. She fell to her knees, then was up and running to him. She stopped suddenly, realizing that she might scare the horses. “It’s all right, Oscar. You just wait, you brave lad. Jamie will sing to you and feed you carrots.”
“Actually, it was Ramble who saved the day.”
She smiled up at her husband, then said to the horse, “You were wonderful, Ramble. I will personally feed you the best oats and barley in the whole county. My lord, are you all right?”
“Yes,” he said. Slowly he eased down between the two horses, patting them, soothing them. They were lathered, still blowing hard.
The man. Rohan whipped about, but no one was there. The man hadn’t followed them.
“Elsay, how badly are you hit?”
“Me right arm, mi’lord. Not too bad, jest bleeding like I were a . . . well, niver ye mind that. I’ll live, no thanks to that sot wot shot me.”
“And thanks to old Ramble here,” Rohan said, feeling oddly detached from himself. He knew it was shock, but he also knew he couldn’t succumb to it. “We’ll wait here just a while until the horses have rested. Susannah, tear off some of your petticoat. We’ll need to bind Elsay’s arm.”
“That man wot shot me, mi’lord. Who the devil be ’e?”
“I think it was a very bad man that I will find and kill. Don’t you worry, Elsay. You just hold on. We’ll get you all fixed up.”
“Ye’ll not fetch the young dapper doctor, will ye, mi’lord? ’E fair scares me to me liver.”
“Yes, I will, but I’ll stand at his elbow and if he dares to cause you pain, I will pound him. All right?”
“Aye, that’s jest fine,” Elsay said and fainted dead away.
25
“I’M GLAD THAT ELSAY IS ALL RIGHT. I’M RELIEVED THAT both Ramble and Oscar aren’t lame. Your father was very fond of Ramble. He always said that Ramble had guts. Obviously I’m relieved that you and Susannah are without injury. Neither I nor Susannah, however, knows who was shooting at you. Nor do I understand why. Do you, Susannah?”
“No, ma’am.” But she had a very good idea, he could see it in those clear eyes of hers. He’d again refused to tell her anything about Theodore Micah, merely repeated to her that Tibolt had denied everything. He’d lied to her because he was trying to keep her safe. To him, that meant keeping her ignorant.
Rohan looked at his mother over a forkful of scrambled eggs. She was regarding first Susannah and then him with deep suspicion. It was ten o’clock on the morning after their harrowing ordeal. He’d been up at dawn, leaving Susannah sleeping soundly. He had hired men from the village to patrol Mountvale House. Hopefully neither his mother nor his wife would find out about them. He’d told the half dozen men that they were to detain any stranger they discovered.
He knew in his gut that Theodore Micah must have been watching Tibolt’s house. He must have followed them in order to s
top them. Rohan couldn’t bring himself to consider that Tibolt may have sent Micah after them. His brother was a scoundrel, but could he be that evil? Rohan guessed Micah would have threatened Susannah if he’d gotten to them, perhaps even taken her. He must have ridden away quickly when he saw that the horses were out of control. If they had gone over the cliff, then all would have been for naught. Damnation! He hated the mystery of all this, the secrets, the uncertainty about his brother. He hated the danger to Susannah. He hoped she wouldn’t realize that there would always be someone guarding her, and Toby as well.
He heard his mother say again, “Dearest? Didn’t you hear me? Susannah claims not to know a thing, but you do. Come now and cough it up.”
But he couldn’t cough up anything. He wasn’t about to tell his mother that her other son very possibly was involved in this mess, whatever mess it really was. Macbeth and Pope Leo IX. What could those two possibly have had to do with each other? He merely shook his head. “It was a robber, nothing more, Mama.”
“Yes,” Susannah said. “It must have been, Charlotte. Just a thief trying to steal my jewels and Rohan’s watch fob.” She glanced briefly at her husband before looking down at the rasher of bacon on her plate. She wouldn’t mention Tibolt. She’d spare Charlotte that.