“That’s George,” Polly said, confirming Sadie’s worst fears.
Scrambling to her feet, Sadie tried to make the best of it. Flicking on her torch, she said cheerfully, “Well, if you had been the boys, we’d have done a really good job of bringing them down.”
“Boys?” Lady Elizabeth sounded bewildered. “What boys?”
“The boys what captured me and Florrie.” Quickly Nellie explained.
With heavy grunting, soft cursing, and general thumping, George climbed to his feet. Seconds later, a second bright beam from a torch in his hand swept around the barn.
“Sorry, guv’nor,” Sadie said cheerfully. “We thought you was the boys coming back. We were going to capture them and march them back to the village.”
“Always supposing they survived your attack,” George said dryly. “What do I have to do to get through your heads that it’s dangerous to take police matters in your own hands? You all could have been really hurt tackling three thugs like that.”
“Well, George,” Lady Elizabeth said, “we have to commend them for trying.” She looked a little like a scarecrow with straw sticking out of her hair and clinging to her cardigan. “The thing is, what do we do now?”
“Well, I reckon we wait until they come back.” George’s voice was doubtful. “If they come back, that is.”
“They’ll come back for their bicycles,” Nellie said. “They’re over there by the wall.”
George grunted. “Let’s hope they bring the Jeep back with them, that’s all.”
“Wonder what they were up to on the base,” Polly said.
“I reckon we’re going to find out in a minute.” Sadie tilted her head to one side to listen. “Isn’t that a Jeep I hear out there?”
“You thought you heard a Jeep just now,” Nellie reminded her.
“That was my motorcycle,” said Lady Elizabeth. “It does sound awfully like a Jeep at times.”
“All right, everybody.” George switched off his torch. “Stay out of sight. Nobody move unless I tell you to. Is that clear?”
Feeling somewhat disgruntled at being done out of capturing the hooligans, Sadie turned off her own torch and went back behind her bale of hay. The roar of the Jeep’s engine grew steadily louder, then cut off, leaving them all in silence.
Once more the doors slid open, and three shadowy figures filled the doorway. “Just grab the bicycles and get out of here,” a gruff voice ordered.
“What about them women up there?” This voice was quite different, soft and whiny.
“Shove the ladder up to the ledge. By the time they get down and walk back to the village we’ll be back home.”
“What if they tell the bobbies?”
The gruff voice laughed. “So what? Them stupid idiots in Sitting Marsh are too bleeding old and doddery to do anything about it.”
“Oh? Sez who?”
Sadie jumped as George’s voice rang out. Once more the light from his torch lit up the barn, the beam focused on the wide-eyed faces of the boys transfixed in the doorway.
Then, as if jerked by an invisible rope, the three leapt back, turned tail, and ran off into the darkness, with George in hot pursuit.
“Come on!” Sadie yelled. “Don’t let them get away!” Turning on her torch again, she charged out into the night air and ran as hard as she could after George, accompanied by pounding feet behind her.
She caught up with him at the gate. He leaned over it, panting for breath, the torch limp in his hand. Seconds later Nellie came up behind them, wheezing like an old bicycle pump.
“They got away,” Sadie said, her voice flat with disappointment.
“Went over that gate like they had bloomin’ wings,” George said breathlessly.
Polly appeared from out of the shadows, breathing hard. “What happened?”
“They’re gone,” Nellie told her. “We won’t catch them now.”
“After all that,” Sadie added.
“Well, best get back home.” George straightened up. “Her ladyship was kind enough to give me a lift on her motorcycle. But seeing as you, Nellie, and Florrie have been through such a terrible experience, I think you should ride back with her ladyship to the village. I’ll take one of those bicycles in the barn and the other two women can ride back with me.”
“I left my bicycle at the manor,” Polly protested.
“You can have one of the boys’ bicycles,” Sadie told her as they trudged back across the field to the barn.
“I can’t ride a bicycle with a crossbar,” Polly said, sounding really tired.
“Well, then, you can ride mine and I’ll ride the boy’s one.” Sadie linked her arm through her friend’s. “How’d you lot know we was in the barn, anyhow?”
“When we got to the windmill and no one was there, George remembered as how one of the farmers told him he kept hearing a Jeep near one of his fields. We saw the barn and decided to have a look, just in case.”
“I hope Lady Elizabeth forgives us for knocking her to the ground,” Nellie said mournfully.
Sadie chuckled. “She will. She’s a good sort. I just wish we could have caught them buggers.”
“Too bad they weren’t the real musketeers,” Nellie said. “Just think if we’d caught them. We’d have had our names in the newspapers.”
“Well, we couldn’t even capture three schoolboys, so I don’t think we’d have much chance against the musketeers.” Sadie lowered her voice as they reached the barn. “Just be glad it weren’t the musketeers. You and Florrie could be dead by now. Like that poor bloke at the wedding.”
“Yeah, I’ll be glad when whoever did that is caught and in prison.”
“Me, too.” Sadie shivered. “I just hope we don’t meet up with him in the dark on the way home. I think we’ve all had enough excitement for one night.”
“I’ve had enough to last me a year,” Polly murmured. “I think I’ll stick to the Tudor Arms for my excitement from now on.”
By the time Elizabeth got back to the manor, Violet had already gone to bed. Which was just as well, she told herself as she wearily made her way to the conservatory. Violet tended to get extremely testy when Elizabeth left without telling the housekeeper where she was going.
She badly needed a glass of sherry to settle her nerves. The incident in the barn had upset her more than she was willing to admit. When those bodies had come flying at her out of the dark, she’d been certain they were the musketeers bent on destroying her. Nellie’s weight had crushed the air out of her lungs, and for a moment or two she thought she’d taken her last breath.
Predictably, her thoughts had gone immediately to Earl. She’d wondered how long he would mourn her passing, and how soon he would find someone else to take her place. Visions of the brief times they had spent together had flashed through her mind, and she’d been filled with a deep sadness at the thought that she would never be able to enjoy such moments again.
She smiled, wondering what he’d say if he knew how foolish she was where he was concerned. Reaching the door of the conservatory, she pushed it open, then paused in shock.
He was there, lounging in his favorite rocking chair, his head back, his eyes closed.
For a second or two she wondered if she’d conjured up a vision out of her dreams, but then she heard his rhythmic breathing and knew he was really there, sound asleep.
She crept into the room and gently closed the door. A half-empty glass of Scotch sat on the table next to his elbow. In sleep his face looked younger, less tense, his strong jaw relaxed. She had to fight the urge to lean over and kiss his mouth.
They had an agreement, she reminded herself, as she had done so often. Until his divorce was final, they would keep their distance. Or at least try to do so. She smiled again at the memory of the kiss they’d shared on the cliffs… was it only a couple of days ago? It seemed like weeks now.
Very carefully she poured herself a glass of sherry and settled down on the white wicker couch. She was prepared to wait all night for him to awaken. He needed his sleep, and the escape that it afforded him from the hell he faced every day.