Marshal and the Heiress

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Marshal and the Heiress Page 29

by Potter, Patricia;

Distress filled his face.

  “Duncan?” she prodded. “You must tell me.”

  He sighed heavily. “Mr. Masters told me he and Lord Kinloch were going to Glasgow. He said no’ to tell anyone unless the young miss was found, but I don’t think he meant ye, my lady.”

  Lisbeth wasn’t so sure. Had his suspicions of her returned? She couldn’t bear the thought, but then she knew how hard Sarah Ann’s disappearance had affected him.

  But why Glasgow?

  Ships. The thought occurred to her instantly. They had gone to check the ships.

  “Thank you, Duncan,” Lisbeth called over her shoulder as she hurried from the room. Before she did anything else, she would check the stables. Perhaps Callum had seen the riders coming home.

  To her surprise, Callum Trapp met her at the stable door. He, too, looked weary.

  “I’ve been out looking for the young lass,” he said. “I found her pony. He was tied in the woods south of here.”

  “Is he all right?” she asked.

  “Aye. He ate several cups of oats.”

  “But did you … find anything else?”

  Callum shook his head, and Lisbeth’s hope died. Despite the missing groom, even the sick dog, she’d still hoped that perhaps Sarah Ann had ridden out alone on her pony, or perhaps had gone with the groom and then had become separated. And the groom, fearing the wrath of the family, had simply left. She’d frantically sought any explanation other than the one Ben believed.

  “No sign of the lass,” Callum said. “And the American’s horse is still gone.”

  “He and Drew have gone to Glasgow.”

  A frown creased his brow. “Glasgow? Why?”

  Lisbeth shrugged. “I don’t know. I thought you might have talked to him about it yesterday when you searched the road.”

  Callum shrugged. “No.”

  Lisbeth saw the deep worry in his eyes. “I know you care for her, too,” she said quickly. “We’ll find her, and she’ll be so happy to see Peppermint. When Ben … Mr. Masters returns, please ask him to find me.”

  Callum turned around stiffly, going toward his room. Lisbeth knew he’d grown very fond of Sarah Ann. He’d helped teach her to ride and had been proud of how fast she’d learned. Under that glum exterior, Callum had more than one soft spot.

  Lisbeth returned to the house and talked to the cook about breakfast. It was another gray Scottish dawn, with a light mist falling. She usually didn’t mind these mornings, seeing a quiet beauty in them. But that morning seemed dreary and threatening. And sad.

  Lisbeth kept her mind busy with seeing that the guests breakfasted, then started off on another search. Hugh went with them. Barbara, who didn’t like horses, stayed at the house. She offered to look after the few remaining wives and daughters, as well as Henry and Annabelle, if Lisbeth wanted to join the other searchers. The offer stunned Lisbeth for a moment. Then she accepted.

  She had not told Barbara or Hugh about Glasgow, but as the hours had crept by, she knew she had to do something or quietly go mad. She planned to ride toward Glasgow. There was but one road.

  She didn’t care now what the guests or family thought, what anyone thought. She dressed in her boy’s trousers and shirt, and wool jacket. She tucked her hair under her cap and pulled the cap down over her face. Few would recognize her, and she could ride astride, making better time.

  She slipped down the back steps and headed for the stable. It was empty. Apparently even Callum had returned to the woods. She looked in briefly on Peppermint, then saddled Shadow.

  Only the grace of God kept Ben awake as he and Drew rode toward Calholm with a sleeping Sarah Ann. Ben had finally relinquished her to his companion, for his arms had grown numb from holding his daughter.

  A few more hours, Ben told himself, and they would be back at Calholm, and he would have Trapp’s neck between his hands. The constables in Glasgow were holding Baxter and his sister, who were telling all in hopes of not being charged as accomplices. But neither seemed to have knowledge of anyone but Trapp engineering Sarah Ann’s abduction.

  Ben felt a prickling of unease. He’d accomplished his mission of rescuing Sarah Ann with little difficulty, and he’d never been happy with ease. Something always lay lurking behind a veneer of success.

  Dusk was falling and as usual clouds filled the Scottish sky. The prickling along Ben’s nerve ends increased as they approached a copse of trees protecting a turn of the road. His hand went instinctively toward the pistol tucked in the back of his trousers.

  He didn’t have time to reach it.

  Suddenly, a figure appeared from the woods, a pistol already in his fist, and his finger on the trigger.

  “Stand and hold,” Callum Trapp said, not even trying to hide his identity.

  Ben’s hand kept moving toward the pistol.

  “Raise your hands now, or ye’ll taste a bullet.”

  “I think we’ll taste it anyway,” Ben said dryly, but he slowly raised his hands. His only hope now was to take the trainer by surprise. A deadly calm settled over him.

  “Trapp,” he acknowledged.

  “Ye don’t sound surprised.”

  Ben was careful. He didn’t want to tell the man that he was through, that Baxter was telling everything to Glasgow authorities. Trapp wouldn’t have anything to lose then.

  “I was starting to figure it out,” he said slowly, working his way through the lie. “Who had something to gain? Hugh and Lady Barbara, of course, and Lisbeth, but I didn’t think any of them had the … steel to do it.”

  Ben shifted in his seat. He was aware of Drew next to him, his stillness as he held Sarah Ann against him.

  “Even then,” he continued, “I really didn’t think you would harm a child. I thought you cared for her.”

  “I dinna harm her. Baxter would have found a good home for her. If you hadn’t interfered—”

  “And you were the one who shot at me, I suppose,” Ben said lazily, stalling, looking for an advantage. “Why?”

  “Ye have no right to Calholm,” Trapp exclaimed. “Lady Lisbeth is the only one who cares about it, who cares about the horses, who cares about the Marquess’s dream. We can win the Grand National with Shadow. The old Marquess promised me that when he hired me.”

  “Lisbeth doesn’t know anything about this,” Ben said, stating it as fact.

  He snorted. “Lady Lisbeth? She’s too soft in some ways, but when I make Shadow a champion, she’ll be content.”

  “Her husband? Did you kill him, too?”

  He shrugged. “He was going to sell the horses. I heard him telling that whore, Lady Barbara. He was sleeping wi’ her, too. Lady Lisbeth was well rid of him.”

  So Callum Trapp had acted alone.

  “And the accidents in Glasgow and Edinburgh?” Ben inquired with deceptive calm.

  “I ’ave friends I asked to keep an eye out for an American and a little girl.”

  It made sense. Trapp had been to steeplechases and hurdle races throughout Scotland. It wouldn’t have been difficult to find accomplices with so much at stake: a Grand National champion.

  “What are you going to do now?”

  “I have to kill you both.”

  “And Sarah Ann?”

  Trapp shook his head. “I’ll regret that. I never meant for the lass to be hurt, but now there’s no ’elp for it.”

  “She’s still sleeping from laudanum,” Ben said. “She knows nothing about you. You can say you found her. You can even be a hero,” he added dryly.

  He saw the flicker in Trapp’s eyes, but it quickly disappeared and he shook his head again, regretfully. “She might have heard something. Now, get down from those horses,” Trapp ordered, obviously tired of the conversation.

  Ben hesitated, and then he saw a movement at the bend of the road. A rider. A second later, he recognized Lisbeth. The sound of hoofbeats alerted Trapp, too, and he moved his horse back so he could see the road, while still keeping his gun on Ben and Cameron.

  Lisbeth sta
rted to canter up to them, and Ben saw her face, saw it change when she noticed the gun in Trapp’s hand and where it was pointing.

  “No!” she said, pulling hard on her reins.

  Trapp’s mouth worked for a moment, then turned hard. “Don’t come any closer, Lady Lisbeth.”

  But she did, moving Shadow until he was nearly abreast of Trapp’s horse. The two beasts sidestepped, each pawing the ground and snorting, and for an instant, Ben thought he might have a chance to reach for his gun while Trapp fought, one-handed, to control his mount. But the trainer got the animal to back off from Lisbeth’s stallion without his gun hand wavering even once.

  “I’m sorry, Lady Lisbeth,” Trapp said slowly. “I dinna want ye to be involved.”

  “Involved in—”

  Then comprehension flooded her face. And horror. “Not you,” she whispered. “Please, not you.”

  “They have to die, Lady Lisbeth. We can still do it, you and I. We can still win the Grand National. We can make Shadow the greatest horse in Britain.” His face took on a look of desperation.

  “No,” Lisbeth said. “You shoot them, and you’ll have to shoot me.”

  “Don’t say that, Lady Lisbeth,” he pleaded. “It’s always been the two of us, ever since ye came to Calholm. I did everything for ye.” Trapp gestured with his pistol toward Ben. “He don’t deserve Calholm.”

  Her voice had a frantic edge to it as she said, “But if you kill him and Sarah Ann, Hugh will inherit, not me.”

  Trapp cursed. “If I had killed the American in the woods, then ever’thing would ha’ been right. Ye could ’ave adopted the lass, and managed Calholm. But I dinna kill ’im, and I canna wait longer. He might sell the horses. With the lass gone, your cousin could meet with another … mishap.”

  “No,” she said. “You couldn’t think I would—”

  “It’s right, Lady Lisbeth,” Trapp insisted.

  Ben watched Lisbeth’s face pale. She looked at Sarah Ann in Drew’s arms, then back at Trapp. Then, with calculated intent—Ben could almost see her make the decision—she relaxed her hold on Shadow’s reins, and the snorting, agitated stallion made straight for Trapp’s horse.

  “No!” Ben shouted.

  Trapp saw, too, but with only one hand on the reins, he could do little to keep his mount from rising to Shadow’s challenge. His attention on Ben wavered—and so did the gun hand.

  It was all Ben needed. He kicked his horse forward, closing the few yards between himself and Trapp before Lisbeth and her rearing stallion reached them. Then he launched himself at the Scotsman. At the same time, the pistol turned back toward him and discharged, and he felt a bullet graze his side only a second before his body hit Trapp’s.

  They both went tumbling to the ground. Trapp landed beneath him, hitting the ground hard, but desperation gave the trainer strength. Twice, Trapp tried to kick him, but Ben ploughed a fist into the twisted, angry face—once, twice, three times, until the trainer lay still.

  Ben sat up painfully and looked to see that Lisbeth had tied Shadow to a tree at the side of the road. Trapp’s horse appeared to have lost interest with the challenge now removed.

  Drew had dismounted, laid Sarah Ann on the grass, and he and Lisbeth were both coming toward him. Lisbeth looked sick, her glance going from Ben to her longtime friend and trainer, who still lay, groaning, on the ground. Then, quickly, she hurried to where Sarah Ann lay.

  “Is she …?”

  “She’s been drugged for two days,” Ben said. “She should be coming out of it soon.”

  Lisbeth leaned down and hugged Sarah Ann, listening to her breathe—as he too had done, Ben thought, to convince himself she was all right.

  Then Lisbeth’s gaze met his, her eyes full of grief. “I told him,” she whispered. “I told Callum you’d gone to Glasgow. Duncan said he was not to tell anyone, but I didn’t think …”

  Ben climbed to his feet, stepped over to her, and pulled her into his arms. “You didn’t know,” he said.

  But she looked up at him with eyes filled with guilt. “He said he did it for me.”

  “He did it for himself,” Drew interrupted. “He wanted a Grand National champion, no matter the cost. You were his justification. But it was his need, not yours.”

  “Maybe it was my need,” she said brokenly.

  Ben felt her trembling, and his hold tightened. “Trapp did it, Lisbeth. Not you, for God’s sake. He was obsessed.”

  The tremors in her seemed to increase, and he felt her heartbreak.

  “He was going to hurt Sarah Ann.”

  “I think he tried to avoid that,” Ben said gently. “His first hope was to get rid of me so you could adopt her. When that didn’t work, he went ahead with plans to kidnap her. Baxter said he was to take her to America, sell her to a family who wanted a child.”

  Lisbeth’s body was so rigid, he thought it might shatter.

  “We might all be dead if you hadn’t come when you did,” he said gently. “Damn, you were magnificent. Any other woman would have swooned. But you did everything just right—although you nearly gave me heart failure when I saw you were going to let those two stallions fight it out.”

  “Shadow and Firestorm hate each other,” she said in a small voice. Then, suddenly, she wrenched away from him and stood alone, holding her arms with her hands as if she were freezing cold.

  He tried to take her in his arms again, but she turned away, and the despairing look in her face kept him from trying again. She couldn’t accept comforting now. Not yet. He knew exactly how she felt. He had felt that way when Mary May had died. His heart ached for the agony he knew she was suffering, and yet he knew no caress, no words would help at this moment. She needed time.

  Trapp moved slightly, and Drew picked up the trainer’s pistol, which lay in the road, then went and stood over the prisoner. Trapp sat up painfully, his gaze going to Lisbeth.

  “Lady Lisbeth?” It was a plea for understanding. “Calholm should always have been yours.”

  “No,” she said, her voice lifeless. “I’m not a Hamilton. Sarah Ann is. Dear God, Callum, how could you?”

  “Shadow should have his chance,” the trainer said. “He’s a great horse. You believe it, too.”

  “Did you think I would condone murder and kidnapping?” she asked. “Did you know so little of me?”

  Trapp’s head bowed.

  Ben watched as another thought struck her, and the horror on her face grew. “Jamie?” she whispered. “Not Jamie? It was an accident …” Her voice faded as she saw the truth on his face.

  “He was going to sell the horses,” Trapp said defensively. “He asked me to find buyers. Even for Shadow. The Marquess gave him to you. And he was bedding Lady Barbara,” he said with mean satisfaction.

  Ben knew that if Lisbeth’s face could have gone whiter, it would have. She swayed for a moment as if the revelation was the last blow she could withstand. He moved to her side, putting his hands around her waist, steadying her.

  “Bastard,” he said to Trapp. Then, softly, to Lisbeth, he added, “Don’t believe anything he says.”

  She leaned against him as if her legs would no longer hold her. Her hands were clenched together in fists. His arms tightened around her, rocking her for a moment as he would Sarah Ann. After a moment, he felt her stiffen, and she broke away from him to walk to Sarah Ann and kneel down next to her.

  “We’d best take her home,” she said, tears glimmering in her eyes.

  Ben’s throat tightened. She had such gallantry and dignity, it made him hurt. From what she and Drew had both said, she’d had a joyless childhood, and yet she’d never lost her ability to trust, as he had. And now that instinctive tendency to trust was being challenged, and he saw her struggling with it.

  “What are you going to do with him?” she asked.

  Drew answered. “Take him back to Glasgow to face charges.”

  She nodded.

  “Get him out of here,” Ben said to Drew, “before I kill him.


  “I need something to tie him with.”

  Lisbeth leaned down and tore a piece of cloth from Sarah Ann’s petticoat. Silently, she handed it to Drew, who quickly tied Trapp’s hands in front of him.

  “I’ll take him back to Glasgow now. I’ll stop at my friend’s for the night. They have a cellar room for Trapp here. You go back to Calholm and take care of the princess.” He grinned. “You fight well for a solicitor.”

  Ben grinned. “You think like a lawman.”

  When Drew and Trapp were both mounted and he had the lead line from Trapp’s horse in his hand, Drew said, “I’ll see you in a day or two.”

  Ben nodded. “My thanks.”

  “A pleasure,” Drew said. He turned to Lisbeth. “My lady,” he said softly, “don’t blame yourself for this. He had everyone fooled. And you saved all three of our lives by arriving as you did. I, for one, will be forever grateful.” With that, he turned the horses and started back toward Glasgow.

  “Make that two more grateful people,” Ben added. “Now why don’t you hand Sarah Ann to me, and let’s get out of here.”

  As Lisbeth picked up the sleeping child, Sarah Ann’s eyelids fluttered and she moaned softly. Ben took her in his arms, and she wriggled.

  “Sugarplum?” he said softly.

  Her eyes opened fully, and he could see them try to fasten on him and fail. “Papa?”

  “Yes.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “And Lady Lisbeth is here, too.”

  “I had bad dreams.”

  “We’ll just have to kiss them away.”

  She snuggled up against him. “I dreamed you left me.”

  “I’ll never leave you, Sugarplum. I promise.” And he meant it. He couldn’t imagine how he’d ever thought he might be able to leave her in Scotland, even if he had been assured she would have a loving family. She was as much a part of him as if she’d been his own child. She was his own child. The child of his heart.

  “Want to go home,” she demanded.

  “Annabelle and Henry are anxious to see you,” he said.

  “And Peppermint,” Lisbeth added quietly. There was no spirit to her voice, only an attempt to soothe.

  Ben looked at her quickly, a question in his eyes.

 

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