She almost ran straight into Sir Jasper. Agnes hovered anxiously at his elbow. He smiled at her, and her earlier nausea came crashing back. In his hand he held an elegant dueling pistol.
“Here, drink this.”
Amy came back to the world in a haze of blissful shade and something cool sliding down her throat. She opened her eyes. A sandy-haired, tanned face hovered over her, and a strong arm supported her shoulders.
“Good, you’re awake.” There was a faint Scots burr in his voice. “Here, have some more water.”
Amy sipped the water gratefully. She was reflexively calculating how to use her position in his arms to lay a groundwork for seduction, when everything that had happened came back to her. She sat up with a start, nearly knocking her forehead into his. They were in an elegant sitting room that seemed to be inexplicably missing half of its furniture. “Kit?” she called.
“Your little boy is fine. I sent him down to the kitchens for a snack.” The man looked oddly familiar.
“He’s not mine. How long have I been asleep? I have to see Nev-Lord Bedlow-at once!”
The man stiffened. “Lord and Lady Bedlow have gone out. I believe they went to Greygloss.”
A hot spurt of frustration boiled up inside Amy. She didn’t curse, she never cursed-but she wanted to. She shot to her feet, then regretted it when her knees refused to take her weight. Her rescuer sighed and snaked an arm around her waist, holding her up.
Amy clutched at his coat. “You’ve got to take me there. Lady Bedlow is in danger.”
The man started. “Penelope in danger? What do you mean?”
“I don’t know precisely. But I overheard Agnes Cusher talking to Sir Jasper. It sounded like they were plotting to hurt her. You must take me to her at once!”
The man frowned. “What exactly did you hear?”
Amy nearly ground her teeth together. She didn’t have time for this! “They spoke so softly that I heard very little.” She was painfully aware how thin that sounded. “But I distinctly heard Lady Bedlow’s name, and I am morally certain they were planning some mischief.”
He nodded as if she had confirmed something he already suspected. “You’ve been ill,” he said gently. “You shouldn’t be walking about alone. You might have suffered a serious setback.”
“I am not delirious! I need to get to Greygloss!”
“Why would Sir Jasper want to hurt Penelope?” His voice was the embodiment of patience and reason. “You’re sick, and anxious, that’s all. Just lie down, and I’m sure-”
It was all for nothing. She had actually made it here and now it was all for nothing because she was a female and weak and had fainted, and why would such a capable-looking male believe a word she said? Amy reached out and overturned a bowl of fruit. Porcelain shattered and an apple rolled under a far table and it was the most satisfying thing she had ever seen. “Listen to me! Why won’t you listen? I am not delirious! He’ll hurt her!”
He looked really alarmed, and for a moment Amy thought she had won. Then he reached out and seized her wrists. “You’ll injure yourself. Please, everything is all right. Sit down, and Lady Bedlow will be home directly. You can talk to her then.”
Amy began to cry, childish tears of frustration and weakness. She knew she was only making it worse, but she couldn’t stop.
“There, there.” Handing her a handkerchief, the man gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “Don’t cry. It’s all right.”
“It’s not all right,” Amy sobbed.
Nev was never sure if Helen had meant merely to scare him or if she had terrible aim, but the shot flew harmlessly into the air over the horse’s back.
The spirited Thoroughbred reared up, his hooves flashing dangerously close to Nev’s face. Struggling to keep hold of the reins, Nev felt something give in his arm as the horse prepared to plunge directly into the mob.
Nev hung on to the reins as hard as he could, wishing desperately he had Palomides with him instead. “Whoa!” The horse reared again. Heart pounding, Nev threw himself in front of the horse, shoving Helen Spratt out of range of its hooves. He dodged a fierce kick and lunged, grabbing the bridle from the other side as well. When the horse next reared up, he hung on grimly, letting all his weight pull the gelding back toward earth. “Whoa!” he shouted again. “Calm down!”
He might not have managed it if Aaron Smith had not darted forward and jerked on the bridle with a casual strength that surprised Nev.
It seemed like an eternity but was probably only a few seconds before the horse stilled, nostrils flaring and eyes rolling. Nev, trembling with relief and anger, took a few precious moments to soothe the horse, running his hand over the beast’s flanks and whispering to him. Only when he trusted his voice not to shake did he turn around.
“Sir Jasper.” Penelope was pleased to hear that her voice did not shake. “I am glad to see you. There has been some trouble, and I believe you are needed to read the Riot Act. Mr. Snively is waiting for you at the house.”
“Of course there is trouble,” Sir Jasper said. “I warned you that you could not coddle these folk. I warned you what would come of it if you did not keep them on a tight rein. I hope you are satisfied when our houses are all burnt to the ground.”
Penelope shrank back at the poison in his voice. “I doubt any homes will be burnt if you are quick,” she said, trying to maintain her calm. “Please, do not let me detain you.”
He laughed. “There will be time for that when I’ve dealt with you. You’ve meddled enough.”
“What do you mean?” Afraid she knew, Penelope tried to look around without being too obvious about it. There was no one in sight but Agnes, and Agnes would not meet her eyes. Miss Wray never had a relapse at all, Penelope realized. That was when she began to be really frightened.
“I mean,” Sir Jasper said with savage mockery, “that you are destroying everything I’ve worked for.”
Penelope wanted to say something rational and soothing, something that would make Sir Jasper see-but the words died in her throat. There was no making Sir Jasper see anything. He was mad, and he hated her, and she was alone with him save for a girl who hated her too. “Sir Jasper.” She hated the thready sound of her own voice. “Please, there’s no need-”
“There is every need! Since Bedlow married you things have gone from bad to worse.”
“Sir Jasper-”
But it was as if the sound of her voice was anathema to him. His face contorting, he raised the pistol. “You’ve done all the talking you’re going to do.”
Penelope stared down the gleaming barrel of the gun and, to her complete surprise, instinctively covered her stomach.
Unexpectedly, Agnes Cusher stepped forward. “Sir Jasper, surely you needn’t-”
“Oh, yes,” Sir Jasper said with sudden calm. “I’d forgotten about you. Don’t think I’m going to let a Jacobin’s wife like you ruin everything.” The gun swung away from Penelope, and there was a report, unnaturally loud in Penelope’s ears. Agnes cried out and toppled to the ground.
Penelope only had a moment to decide what to do. If she stayed where she was, Sir Jasper would use his second shot on her. She looked at Nev ’s grandfather’s ruin, rising over the top of the Greygloss trees. She turned toward it, gathered up her skirts, and ran directly into the forest.
Nineteen
“Stay here,” the man told Amy. “I’m going to see if I can find someone to take care of you.”
She hurt all over and there was a pounding in her ears. “I don’t need someone to take care of me. Lady Bedlow does.”
“Lady Bedlow has a husband to take care of her!” The man left the room. Amy tried to think if there was anything else she could do, anyone else she could turn to.
She would try to send a message to Greygloss. Perhaps she could give it to a servant. There must be paper-there must-she tried to stand, the blood rushed to her head, and she fainted for the second time that day.