“I think I know where they are,” said Liam, tensing his jaw. “It’s a hard ride, so we’d best get started.”
* * *
The bell was large and the proper way to ring it was on the ground level of the church. But Rosalind was not leaving the roof. She studied the ancient thing, as well as the long drop through the bell tower to the floor below. It might be possible for her to push the bell enough to make it ring, but to do so, she would have to lean out over the ledge and continue going back and forth to keep up the momentum.
Her fear of heights was, at the moment, quite inconvenient.
She positioned herself as best she could, leveraging one of her feet against a brick barrier on the edge of the bell tower, then shoved at the bell with all her might.
It moved not a whit.
She pushed again.
Nothing happened.
She thought back to a long-ago journey to her family’s estate, when it still was a working farm. She remembered two men trying to dig a wagon out of a rut. They’d put their back into it and finally dug themselves out.
Rosalind looked down at the steep drop again. She wasn’t looking forward to turning her back to it and pushing, but she had little choice. So she turned, placed her back against the bell, took a deep breath and pushed.
It moved an inch.
Knowing that any journey began with the smallest step forward, Rosalind repeated her exertions again. And again. And again.
Each time the bell moved just a bit further. Now she could feel the bell push back against her. Propping her legs against the gable, she began rocking back and forth. The bell suddenly pulled away from her and she felt a moment of terror as her back was suspended over the open chasm. But she quickly righted herself and turned. As it came back to her she shoved again and heard the most wonderful sound of her life.
The gong of the bell.
She’d done it. But she’d also given away her location to Fallmoor, so she was running out of time. She had only a short while to attract as much attention as possible. It was hard work, but she would not be dissuaded. She continued pushing the bell to and fro.
The bell was quite loud, so she didn’t hear Loudin until he was already on the roof. Suddenly, he was on the other side of the bell from her and looked like he was going to get her back downstairs if he had to carry her. But she would not allow him to, so she walked back along the sloping roof as best as she was able.
It was slow going. Frost on the roof made it slick. She was glad she was wearing her half boots. She was able to gain purchase with her footing, although twice she had to grasp the roof beneath her to keep from sliding off.
“What do you think you’re up to?” asked Loudin, as he made his way after her. He, too, was hampered by the frost. But he continued onward. “You’re only making the duke more angry and he’s the type to take it out on a woman. He could make things bad for you in ways you probably don’t even realize. So why don’t you come with me now? It’ll be better for you.”
“I can imagine it would go better for you, too,” she said, as she reached the end of the roof.
“Oi! You don’t want to jump,” said Loudin. “Things ain’t as bad as all that.”
“And likely you won’t get paid if the duke doesn’t marry.”
“Well, there is that. But it seems a waste for a lady as fine as you to end up a greasy splatter on the ground. Here, take my hand,” he said, holding out his arm, as he inched his way toward her.
“I would rather die first,” she said, right before she dropped off the roof.
* * *
Liam and Gabriel had been headed to Fallmoor’s Birmingham estate with speed. They’d picked up the carriage tracks once again and Liam was sure they were getting closer. He knew they didn’t have much time. Given the lengths to which Fallmoor had gone to find Rosalind, Liam knew he would marry her as soon as possible. Liam prayed they would get there before that happened. But if they didn’t, he would steal Rosalind away, even if she was already Fallmoor’s wife. He didn’t care about scandal. He knew Rosalind would never agree to marry Fallmoor of her own free will, so the marriage would not be valid in the sight of God. He had no problem in thwarting the laws of man if it meant getting Rosalind away from that bastard.
Liam and Gabriel had been on the estate grounds and headed toward the manor when they heard the bell. They both turned to see a distant figure in a gown on the roof, ringing the bell.
“Rosalind!” said Liam, as he kicked his horse into a gallop, with Gabriel close behind.
Then he saw a second figure on the roof advancing on her. It was too young to be Fallmoor, but he no doubt worked for the man. Liam was too far away to be heard if he shouted and the last thing he wanted to do was startle Rosalind in case she lost her footing. He hurried his horse along, praying they would be in time.
He hated this feeling of helplessness. If she could only hold on, he would be there as soon as he could. Please God, he prayed. Help her.
He saw Rosalind inch closer and closer to the far edge of the roof. One false step would have her plummeting to the ground. She had to be careful. He couldn’t lose her now.
Then he looked on in terror as she fell off the roof on the other side of the church.
* * *
Rosalind had estimated that the second roof beneath her was eight feet below. Not far enough that the fall would kill her, though it would undoubtedly hurt. But possibly a big enough drop to discourage Loudin from following her. What she hadn’t counted on was hitting a patch of ice as she landed, so that she continued sliding toward the edge of the second roof and she had no idea how big the drop was below that.
She had fallen on her bottom and was desperately trying to grab onto anything solid as she slid to the edge. Finally, she was able to grab on to a rain gutter right as she slid straight off the roof. She hoped there might be another below her, but instead there was only the ground too far away. If she dropped from here she would definitely break bones. She might even break her neck.
She forced herself to stay calm, though she didn’t feel the tiniest bit relaxed. The pipe she was holding onto seemed solid enough. But the problem was that her hands were numb from the cold. She had no idea how long she could keep her grip.
She said a prayer as she tried to find a foothold, but she was far enough from the wall that it was impossible. She would have to try to swing a leg up to the eaves. But she didn’t know how she would do it alone.
“Rosalind!”
She wasn’t sure at first that someone had said her name. It hadn’t come from that dreadful Runner on the roof above.
“Rosalind!”
There it was again. But from where? She didn’t want to look down because she was afraid she’d become dizzy. But she took the slightest peek, only to see Gabriel Mills on the ground below her.
“Hold on, Rosalind! Liam will be there soon.”
“Liam?” It couldn’t be, could it?
“Aye. I thought he would die of fright when we saw you fall off the roof. But once we spied where you were, he ran into the church to find you. I’m here to break your fall. But, well, I wouldn’t advise falling. You’re likely to get us both killed.”
“I agree,” she said, trying not to cry from the sheer relief of knowing help was on the way. She also shed tears of pain. Her hands her so cold it felt like needles were being stabbed into her.
She continued to pray and held on with all the strength she had, hoping God would infuse her with enough courage to keep going.
* * *
Liam burst into the church and looked around for the stairs to the bell tower. Fallmoor was there, but he’d deal with him later. Lethally, if Rosalind were injured. He yelled at the vicar. “Where are the stairs to the tower?”
“Now, see here. I’ll not be spoken to…”
But Liam had already grabbed the man by his vestments. “The stairs!”
The vicar pointed toward the back and Liam was off. He ran up the stairs three at a tim
e, his heart beating furiously in his chest, as much from fear as physical exertion. Midway up, he heard someone else running up the stairs behind him. Not taking the time to look, he figured it was one of Fallmoor’s servants coming to retrieve him. They could try, but he’d toss them off the roof if need be. He would not fail in his mission.
He reached the top, then started for the edge of the roof where he’d seen Rosalind fall. When he had ridden up to the church, he’d caught a glimpse of her hanging onto the eaves of the roof below. The best way to reach her would be from above, so he’d left Gabriel to try to block her fall from the ground. He was on his way to the edge of the roof when he heard the click of a pistol.
He turned to find a large unkempt man behind him, the same one he’d seen menacing Rosalind.
“Not so fast, your grace.”
“This is no concern of yours,” said Liam as he continued walking toward the edge.
“It’s more mine than yours. I worked long and hard to get that bitch here. I mean to collect my reward. I don’t care if you are a duke. I’ll not get a sou if Fallmoor thinks I just let you stroll over there and get his bride.”
Liam was looking around the roof for anything that would allow him to pull Rosalind up. He regretted not taking the time to find a rope in the church, but hadn’t wanted to waste even a moment. He called over his shoulder to the man who was holding a pistol trained to his head. “Shooting a peer will get you hanged. That surely will not be in your best interests.” He got on his haunches, preparing to lower himself off the edge.
“But who’s to say what happened up here? I’ll tell then you came at me. I always carry a second gun for just that purpose.”
“Tell them what you like. Nothing will stop me from rescuing Rosalind.” He began dropping down, just as the man cocked his second pistol.
Suddenly the door behind them slammed open and Joseph Stapleton appeared on the roof. It took him only an instant to evaluate the situation. He lunged at Loudin and swung his arm out of the way. The pistol went flying. But Loudin pointed the other weapon at him. The two men struggled, then a shot rang out, hitting Stapleton in the left shoulder.
Fortunately, he was right handed and was able to strike Loudin. The man hit the sloping roof, which was slick with ice. He began sliding off the side of the highest roof, scrambling for any handhold. Stapleton tried to reach for him, but the other Runner had already fallen too far. He went off the roof and landed with a sickening splat on the ground below.
Stapleton looked at his shoulder. It hurt like the devil, but after testing it, found he had limited use. He padded it with his handkerchief to stem the bleeding, then ran to the roof’s edge in back.
* * *
Liam had seen Stapleton arrive out of the corner of his eye, but he was already lowering himself to the other roof in back when the shot rang out. He hoped his friend was all right. He couldn’t bear to have more blood on his hands.
Liam dropped down, then made his way to where he’d seen Rosalind hanging from the gutter. The roof was slick and one false move could mean disaster for both of them. He lay on the roof, then pushed out so he could see her below him.
“Rosalind!” he said, relief that she was still there warring with worry on how he was going to get her up.
“Liam, you came!” She smiled at him gloriously, though her cheeks must have been stiff with cold. “Now can we please go?”
“If it would please you, love. But you must trust me enough to let go with one hand and grab onto me.” He readied himself to take her weight, even as he saw Gabriel get into position on the ground should things go wrong. Suddenly he heard someone drop to the roof behind him.
“Liam,” said Stapleton, as he joined him. “I’ll anchor your legs.”
It was just the leverage Liam needed. As Rosalind let go to grab his hand, he was able to reach out further to hoist her up. With Stapleton’s help he pulled her to the roof, then gently put her down. She went into his arms and it was the haven they both needed.
After an appropriate amount of time had lapsed, Stapleton cleared his throat. “I am sorry to interrupt, but Miss Carson is probably freezing.”
Rosalind looked at Stapleton for the first time. “Oh! You’re bleeding.”
Stapleton rubbed his shoulder. “I’ve been hit worse. Although I wish Jane were here to stitch me up. She did a remarkably good job the last time.”
“Perhaps you should stop getting shot,” said Liam.
A few moments later, they were on the ground outside of the church, surveying Loudin’s body. He’d broken his neck in the fall. The vicar was muttering about what a mess it had made on the stone and wondering how the blood would ever be cleaned up. Fallmoor seemed most unconcerned about the body or the mess.
Stapleton approached the man. “Your grace, I place you under arrest for the kidnapping of Miss Rosalind Carson.”
“You are doing no such thing,” Fallmoor said, looking amused by the very thought. “As anyone will tell you, I have been at my estate for the past few weeks, while my betrothed has been whoring herself out.”
Liam had been instructed in his duties as a nobleman since birth. He never dreamt he’d be capable of striking a man more than twice his age.
But there was a first time for everything.
He slammed his fist into Fallmoor’s jaw. The old man crumpled to the ground.
Fallmoor put his hand up to his very sore mouth. He was livid. “You’ve no proof I had anything to do with this. No one will take her word over mine. And I promise you I’ll give the House of Lords a colorful rendition of how all of this came to pass. One that will dog you both to the end of days.”
Stapleton looked at Liam and Rosalind, wordlessly inquiring how they meant to go on.
Rosalind put a hand on Liam’s arm. “It is no use. He is an old bitter man and I have no doubt that he would follow through on his threat. The only thing that matters is that you and I are together now.”
Liam looked like he wanted to drag Fallmoor to the roof only to shove him off it. “How do we know he’ll keep his word? He could besmirch your reputation regardless.”
“Because I will charge him with kidnapping the moment he does,” said Stapleton. “At the very least, I could get him to Newgate for processing. There are many a villain who would kill a duke just for the sport of it. His life would end very quickly. And not well.”
“Who the hell are you to threaten me?” snarled Fallmoor, who nonetheless looked sufficiently scared.
“I carry the authority of my office and have the backing of the Duke of Lynwood and the Marquess of Riverton, if I may be so bold as to bandy about those names.”
“You may definitely be so bold,” said Lynwood. “I also trust that, given the proper financial incentive, Miss Carson’s brother and mother will testify against you, Fallmoor. We are giving you a gift of both your freedom and your life. Make no mistake that it is through Miss Carson’s grace and not my own that we are doing so. If it were up to me, I would call you out and put a bullet through your eye. But, fortunately for you, this is one time I will not get my way.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
A decent surgeon could not be found in the village, so in the end both Stapleton and his shoulder were liberally dosed with brandy and Gabriel sewed him up, having had considerable experience taking care of his laborers.
Lynwood informed Fallmoor he was taking one of his carriages for the trip back to Kibworth. Fallmoor looked none too happy about it, but, then, it hadn’t been a request. The four of them arrived back to find that Olivia had ordered materials for the immediate reconstruction of the church – charged to Lynwood, of course – with enough work done by Christmas that the villagers could have services.
Leaving Rosalind, Liam and Stapleton at the cottage, Gabriel went back to his own house to set things to right.
“You handled yourself well in our absence,” said Gabriel, when he found Olivia alone in the kitchen drinking tea.
Olivia blushed. “It’s
how I was raised. Now, I have a few suggestions for the organization of your kitchen.”
“And why do you have an interest in my kitchen?” he asked, hoping he knew the answer.
Olivia blushed again. “If that’s your way of reminding me I carry some extra weight, I will have you know I would rather have a biscuit from time to time than brag about how thin I was, whilst secretly wishing I could have the biscuit.”
“I implied no such thing! I love your curves. That is….I meant to say….” Now it was Gabriel’s turn to blush.
“Yes?” asked Olivia, her eyes as wide as said biscuits.
“You do know how to confound a man,” said Gabriel.
“Do I?”
“What I was trying to say was I hope there’s a reason why you would like my kitchen to be efficient.”
“Well, I have been a guest here and have grown very fond of Tommy and Daisy.”
“Just Tommy and Daisy?” The fair goddess at his table was bound to be the death of him. He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off her luscious body since agreeing to be her host. He’d passed by her reading to Daisy one night and seen how gentle she’d been with the poor little girl who’d lost her mother too early in life. Olivia also listened to Tommy as he practiced his sums and told her of his plans to be a farmer himself one day. In only the short amount of time she’d been his guest, she’d given both of his children hope. He knew she could provide a mother’s love. It was evident in her very nature. He just didn’t know whether she had any feelings for him.
All in all, she was quite the opposite from the ladies of the village who tried to win his favor, but showed little genuine interest in his children.
“Not just Tommy and Daisy.” Olivia’s voice was but a whisper. “I would not want you to starve in your cook’s absence, either.”
“I see,” said Gabriel, as he walked slowly toward her, until he stood but inches away. He held out his hand to her, hoping she’d take it. Praying she’d take it.
She did.
He helped her rise from the table. The top of her head came to his shoulder, which was the perfect height. Of course with her, he suspected any height would be perfect. “Do you really want to move to London and work for the duke?”
Never Deny Your Heart (Kellington Book Five) Page 20