Page 54 of The Major's Mistake
“Then ride on to the magistrate and raise the alarm.”
Sykes opened his mouth to protest again, but Julian cut him off. “There’s no time to waste on arguments.”
“Surely you can’t mean to go after them by yourself!”
The marquess’s face was grim. “That’s exactly what I mean to do.”
The other man swore silently under his breath as Julian’s big stallion took off at full gallop and disappeared around the bend. But then another snuffle from the small figure in his arms reminded him of his duty. Tucking the little boy firmly to his chest, he spurred his own mount forward.
Angus putdown his pitchfork and poked his head out of the barn at the sound of pounding hooves. His expression changed to one of alarm at the sight of the lathered horse and the figure of Justin clinging to Sykes’s neck. He raced out to intercept them.
“Has there been an accident?” he demanded. “Has the bairn been hurt? And where is Lady?—”
Sykes tersely explained what had happened, drawing a muttered oath from the big groom. “Let me see Justin settled with Lady Thornton,” he added. “Find Jem, then we must move, and quickly. I cannot like the odds of the marquess going up after them by himself.”
Angus gave a curt nod disappeared back into the barn.
When Sykes returned, he found the two grooms already saddling the grey filly and Justin’s pony.
Jem cast a pained look at the smaller animal and lifted his shoulders in apology. “He ain’t exactly fit for our size, but there’s little choice other than poor old Thistle.”
“He’ll stand up to your weight long enough for you to reach Squire Hawkins,” said Angus. “Up you go.”
Jem’s face took on a mutinous look. “But I want to go with you and?—”
“NOW!”
His lower lip thrust out, but Jem climbed into the saddle without further argument. The other two watched him set off, legs dangling perilously close to the ground, as fast as the pony could manage.
Sykes then turned and held up the grubby piece of paper that Lady Thornton had just handed to him. “This is what came crashing through the parlor window not ten minutes ago.”
The groom’s eyes narrowed as he read the rough scrawl. “Bloody bastards,” he growled.
Sykes nodded as he rechecked the priming on his pistols. “Aye. Now if you will ride over to the marquess’s estate and alert?—”
“The hell I will. I’m coming with you.”
The valet looked up in surprise.
“If His Lordship has gone after Lady Miranda, then I figure we had best go after the His Lordship, to make sure that both of ‘em get out of this coil unhurt. Somehow I think she would take it greatly amiss if anything were ta happen to him, and I would hate ta see m’lady disappointed.”
As he spoke, he slowly unwrapped the thick bundle of canvas in his hands, revealing a long-barreled pistol. “I keep it around just for emergencies,” he added. The weapon went into his coat pocket.
A slow grin had spread across Sykes’s face. “Your company would be most welcome, Dagleish. Though I doubt the guvintends to let anything stop him from seeing that no harm comes to his wife, our assistance might come in handy.”
Angus joined the valet in climbing into the to saddle. “She ain’t his wife, Sykes. It seems to me that it don’t do either of them any good to forget that fact.”
“We shall see,” murmured the valet as he set his heels into his horse’s flanks.
The two menrode hard and quickly reached the point where the road turned into a rough cart track, where the way began to wind its way up between the rugged pastures toward a thick stand of forest, then on to the craggy moors. Sykes reined to a walk. Shading his eyes, he surveyed the wild surroundings with an increasingly long face.
“Any idea where these men might be holed up?” His voice did not indicate he held out much hope for that.
The big groom remained silent. After a bit, his brows furrowed and he suddenly turned his mount around. “Wait here.”
Sykes opened his mouth to argue. Angus cut off his protest with a jerk of his head. “Ye noticed that we passed some laborers fixing a gap in the stone wall?”
The valet grunted an impatient reply.
