Regency Surrender: Passion And Rebellion. Louise Allen

in pursuit of John, who had ridden on with his groom at a faster pace. She would not let the problem of the mills upset her. Although this interlude could not last long, she was determined to make the most of it for as long as she could.

      * * *

      Rupert saw the group just ahead of him. He had set out after them, expecting that it might take some time to catch up, but obviously they had ambled along for much of the ride. They had separated out a little, John and the groom ahead and the two girls at the rear. He saw they were just about to set out in pursuit when something caught his eye. A man was watching them, and as Rupert watched he drew out a pistol and fired in their direction.

      ‘Look out!’ The warning made the rogue’s arm jerk. He turned, stared at Rupert, then set off at a run, disappearing into the trees. ‘Damn it!’

      Rupert saw that the shot had caused one of the ladies to fall from her horse. He was tempted to pursue the rogue who had fired at them, but knew the ladies came first. Swearing to himself, he rode up to them, his feelings mixed as he saw it was Francesca on the ground. Relieved that Sarah was all right, he was off his horse and kneeling over Francesca in an instant.

      ‘Are you all right? Did that rogue wing you?’

      ‘No...’ Francesca accepted his hand and stood up. ‘The shot went wide of us, but my horse reared and I slid off. I feel such an idiot. I should have managed to hang on.’

      ‘Not your fault,’ Rupert said. ‘Have you broken anything? Do you feel any pain?’

      ‘No, just a little bruised. I think my pride is hurt more than anything else. I thought I was a good horsewoman.’

      ‘So you are,’ Sarah assured her. ‘That poacher’s shot spooked your horse, that’s all. Anyone could have fallen off the way you did.’

      ‘Sarah is right,’ Rupert agreed. ‘You mustn’t blame yourself or your horse. Damned poacher! I would have gone after him, but I was concerned you might be hurt.’

      ‘No, I’m all right. I thought Grandfather’s keepers had scared off all the poachers.’

      ‘Apparently not this one,’ Rupert replied grimly. ‘I’ll have them double the watch. I know this isn’t technically a part of the estate, but it’s still private property. It belongs to Lord Henry James and he will have to be told. He will not want poachers on his estate.’

      ‘Lord James is hardly ever here,’ Francesca said. ‘I think he spends most of his time in London. However, I heard that his nephew, Sir Roger Grey, had come down to oversee the property for him for a little while.’

      ‘Sir Roger Grey?’ Sarah asked, looking at her oddly.

      ‘Yes, do you know him?’ Rupert asked, gaze narrowing as he saw the expression in her eyes.

      ‘Oh...yes, I may have met him once,’ Sarah admitted, a flush in her cheeks. ‘If Lord James is often away, I dare say he does not bother about protecting his game as he ought.’

      ‘Well, perhaps he should. I must ride over and speak to his nephew about it. We cannot allow this kind of thing to continue. One of you might have been badly hurt,’ Rupert replied and frowned. ‘Are you able to ride, Francesca?’

      ‘Yes, of course,’ she said.

      ‘Up you get, then,’ Rupert said and dismounted. He gave her his hand and threw her up in the saddle, looking at her with approval. ‘That’s my good brave girl.’

      ‘I’ve fallen before. Please do not worry about me,’ Francesca said and looked at Sarah. ‘Are you all right? I thought the shot was nearer you than me.’

      ‘It passed quite close. I felt the wind on my cheek,’ Sarah said and Rupert looked at her again.

      ‘Has it shaken you?’

      ‘No, not particularly, though it was not a pleasant experience. I am glad you arrived when you did, Lord Myers.’

      ‘Indeed.’ He looked at her hard and saw something in her eyes. She didn’t think that shot had been an accident—and Rupert was damned sure it hadn’t, though he was prepared to let Francesca believe it. ‘The rogue saw me and ran. His arm jerked and that may have made his aim go astray.’

      ‘Was he aiming for a bird or a rabbit?’ Francesca asked. ‘There’s plenty of game in these meadows, but I should’ve thought poachers preferred to set traps.’

      ‘Some of them,’ Rupert said. ‘Shall we continue our ride? It is not likely to happen again. I think whoever it was will not do it again.’

      ‘I’m sure he won’t now that you are here,’ Sarah said. ‘It would be a shame to let him spoil our day and so we shan’t.’

      ‘Certainly not,’ Francesca said. ‘I’ve been looking forward to this and no poacher is going to put me off.’

      John rode up to them and stared at his sister. ‘Are you all right, Fran? Who do you think was firing at Miss Goodrum?’

      ‘It was a poacher,’ Sarah said. ‘Just a foolish mistake.’

      ‘No. I saw him,’ John insisted. ‘I looked that way. He took his pistol out and fired at you, Sarah. I know he did. Why would anyone want to kill you?’

      ‘I am sure they wouldn’t,’ Sarah said and forced a smile, but Rupert saw that she looked shaken.

      ‘It looked that way, John,’ he said, ‘but I dare say it was just an accident. Please do not frighten the ladies. Come on, I want you to show me your pony’s paces.’

      John frowned, then inclined his head and obeyed his mentor. As the two of them set off, Francesca looked at Sarah.

      ‘Is there anyone who would want to kill you?’

      Sarah hesitated, then, ‘I’m not sure. I would not have thought so—but if John saw him aim at me...’

      ‘If there is anything, you should tell Uncle Rupert,’ Francesca said. ‘He likes you, Sarah. I am sure he would help you if you are in trouble.’

      ‘Yes, perhaps. Forget it for now,’ Sarah said. ‘Let us catch up with the others. It will soon be time to return for nuncheon...’

       Chapter Seven

      Sarah was thoughtful as she parted from the others and went to her room to change before nuncheon. The shot had been very close to hitting her. The mare had shied, but she’d been able to control it and no one had noticed her difficulty because Francesca’s horse had reared up and unseated her. It had been a most unpleasant incident and Sarah could not help thinking that the shot might have been meant for her. Yet who would want her dead?

      Her uncle would inherit her estate as things stood, because she hadn’t made a will. There was no one else she’d wanted to leave her fortune to and Uncle William had been kind after her father’s death, even if he would have liked to tell her what to do. She did not believe for one moment that he would murder her for her money. So who else could it be—and why?

      She had, of course, made some enemies since her father died. She’d refused several offers of marriage and a couple of offers to buy her property. That might cause some people to dislike her—but murder? As for Sir Roger...he hadn’t taken kindly to being turned down, but she could not see how her death would benefit him.

      Besides, how would any of her enemies know she was staying here—or where she would be that particular morning? The answer must be that they would not so it followed that the shot had been a mistake even if it had seemed to John that the poacher had fired with intent.

      Sarah would be foolish to allow the incident to play on her mind. It was an unfortunate accident and unlikely to happen again.

      She changed quickly out of her riding habit. No one had been hurt so they could