‘Oh, my God, tell me you’re not dead, my poor love,’ she whispered trying to keep the horse under control. As soon as she’d put some distance between them and the shooter she pulled the gig to a halt and placed her hand against Magnus’s heart. It was still beating. Peeling off her stockings she tied them together, then pulled the makeshift binding under his waist and tied his body to the handrail. At least it would stop him from slipping off. The frill from her petticoat served as a bandage for his head – though didn’t staunch the blood.
She drove carefully and steadily, trying not to panic and praying all the time that he’d survive. She was overjoyed to see Robert waiting to take the horse and gig. His face registered his horror at what he saw.
‘Call George out to help you carry Mr Kern up to his room. He’s been shot. Then stable the horse, and lock the stables and house. And we must load all the rifles and pistols in case the murdering Irishman who did this comes here to finish us off.’
When Robert gave a shout Branston opened the front door and came running.
Sarette threw at him. ‘Telephone Mr Grimble and tell him that Magnus Kern has been shot by Flynn Collins, the escaped murderer who killed John Kern. Ask him to send a doctor to the house, and some armed constables to hunt the man down. And to tell them to be very careful, because Flynn is armed. Tell him I’m in danger too, because I can, and will, identify the man.’
Her orders were carried out without question. While Branston hurried off do her bidding Magnus was carried upstairs and George began to remove his master’s wet clothing. The rest of the servants scurried around, locking windows and closing shutters.
Storm clouds had darkened the house prematurely, the wind had begun to howl. Rain lashed against the house like a cat-o’-nine-tails across a convict’s back, and the tension in the atmosphere was almost palpable.
Alice blenched when she saw the blood on Sarette’s dress. Sarette hoped she wouldn’t faint. ‘It’s not me who’s bleeding, it’s Magnus.’ And she quickly explained what had happened. ‘Would you find me something else to wear while I go in the bathroom and sponge the blood off? Then you can help keep a look out for strangers, but stay out of sight behind the curtains. Branston will tell you which window to guard.
A few minutes later and cleaned of blood under the running tap, she left her ruined clothes in the bath and stepped into the checked brown skirt, cream blouse and velvet bodice Alice had left on the bed for her. She couldn’t spend much time on her appearance and quickly tied back her damp hair. Her body began to warm up now her clothes were dry, and her shivers gradually subsided.
Fetching some towels she went to check on the condition of Magnus. He was lying in his bed, looking pale and helpless, his shoulders naked. George had managed to slow down the flow of blood with a towel, but Magnus was still unconscious. She placed a fresh towel against the wound and bound it in place with some linen strips.
‘I don’t think it’s as bad as it appears, Miss. The bullet creased his scalp, but I think Mr Kern is stunned and will soon recover his wits.’
‘Let’s hope he does, and before too long, then. Can you handle a gun, George?’
‘I think so, Miss Maitland.’
‘Good, that makes four of us.’
‘Are we to shoot the man down in cold blood, Miss?’
There was a slightly nervous tone in his voice that would have made her grin if the situation hadn’t been so serious. Her glance went to the unconscious Magnus and anger began to build in her. Collins had already taken the life of one man she’d loved. He wouldn’t get this one. Would she shoot the man in cold blood? Yes, she knew she would if he came within striking distance of Magnus.
‘If he gets in the house we can’t take chances, George. This man is a convicted murderer. He killed John Kern by shooting him in the back and has nearly killed Magnus today. He also shot at me and his bullet missed me by an inch. He doesn’t deserve to be given a chance. If you’re too squeamish to shoot him, call me. I’ll do it myself.’
‘But you’re a . . . lady.’
‘Thank you, George. First and foremost I’m an orphaned brat from the Australian goldfields. Mr John Kern taught me how to fire both a pistol and a rifle. Don’t worry. I don’t expect Flynn Collins to come here, since he’s proved himself to be a coward who shoots men in the back. The guns are a precaution in case he does, and will be used only in defence. Robert and Branston are loading them. We’ll take one apiece and cover four sides of the house.’
‘Have the authorities been informed, Miss?’
‘Mr Grimble has been contacted by telephone. He will do the rest.’
‘Then there will be reinforcements coming?’
‘Yes . . . of course there will.’ She hoped so. There were many entrances to the house, and few of them to guard them.
Magnus mumbled something.
She lent him her ear. ‘Tell me again.’
‘Aches . . . head.’
‘I know it hurts, Magnus my love. The doctor is on his way. Rest now and your headache will soon get better.’ Her mouth was just an inch away from his and she gently kissed him. She pulled the sheet up over his shoulders so he wouldn’t get cold, before turning to George. ‘We’ll ask Verna to sit with him. I might need you, George.’
‘Yes, Miss Maitland. And if I may say so, you keep a calm head on your shoulders when needed.’
‘Thank you, but I was nearly hysterical when Mr Kern fell, and when the second shot missed me by an inch that startled me into action. I thought he’d fall off the rig, and if he had, I wouldn’t have been able hold him.’
She heard the phone ring and took the stairs down two at a time, just in time to hear Branston say, ‘Miss Maitland is fine, Mr Grimble.’
Sarette almost snatched the instrument from his hand. ‘Mr Grimble?’
‘Gerald . . . I’ve just heard . . . how’s Magnus?’
‘Unconscious, but we’ve almost stopped the bleeding. He was lucky. George said the bullet creased his scalp, and the second one missed me and hit a tree. Magnus did speak once,’ she said and felt like crying. ‘He said his head ached.’
Calmly, Gerald said, ‘Probably a bit of a heroic understatement on his part. How are you holding up, Sarry?’
She inhaled a deep breath to steady herself. ‘I’m fine. We’re all armed to the teeth and keeping a watch out. If Collins comes within a mile of here and I see him, he’s got a nil chance of survival.’
‘And Alice. Is she all right?’
‘Yes, she is. She’s been allocated watch-keeping duties on the north side of the house and will ring a bell if she sees anyone approach.
‘I’ll be there soon, and with reinforcements – a couple of soldiers, two constables and a doctor. The soldiers and constables are already on their way. I’m just waiting for the doctor to gather his things together then we’ll set out.’
‘Be careful Gerald. Collins got to Magnus on the road when he was on his way home from Dorchester, so he must have been watching his movements. If he has, he’ll know your face as a visitor here. He’s got nothing to lose.’
‘I’ll be careful.’
‘And Gerald. I was going to tell you tomorrow, but I’ll tell you now. You’re released from any obligation you imagine you had towards me. I had no intention of marrying you.’
‘Rather crushing, but I can’t say it was unexpected, my love.’
‘You don’t have to sound so horribly relieved.’
He chuckled. ‘Neither do you. You didn’t have to punish me by making me wait for an answer, you know.’
‘It was revenge. You’ve got to admit that you gave me just cause.’
‘Ah . . . the bet with Magnus,’ he said with great satisfaction, ‘He said that the winner would be the loser, because he’d lose his freedom to win John Kern’s legacy.’
‘Aren’t you operating under an assumption, Gerald? What have you actually won? Nothing, because you were free to begin with. What has Magnus actually lost? Also nothing. That’s what he had to lose in the first place. So you see, it was all a waste of time. He hasn’t proposed, and I haven’t accepted.’ And neither had she any intention of accepting under the circumstances.
‘But he will and you will, since you’ve declined to take me.’
Her eyes narrowed. Gerald didn’t admit to defeat easily. ‘Good Lord, Gerald don’t be so vain. There are other men in the world beside you two. As for Mr John’s legacy—’ she didn’t want to play her ace by telling him she’d asked his father to dispose of it – ‘it was left to me, not to Magnus.’
‘But Magnus will have control of it, and he always liked the Bournemouth house. He’s keeping you for himself, I tell you. He meant to win this wager . . . or lose it, whichever way you care to look at it. He’s tricky.’
‘You may not have noticed, but I have a mind of my own. Now, we can’t stand here talking while all this is going on. That man might be creeping up on the house, and I’m just in the mood to blow his murdering head off his shoulders.’
‘You’re an impressively bloodthirsty little cat when you’re aroused to passion. I hope Magnus appreciates what he’s getting.’
She refused to bite. ‘I’ll give Alice your love, shall I? She’s unnerved by what’s going on, you know. You’re very good at rescuing damsels in distress. She’ll be impressed when you arrive with your soldiers and constables . . . as I was impressed when you risked your life by jumping into the stream to pluck me out.’
‘For goodness’ sake. The water only came up to my thighs.’
‘But my head was under water, and you were soaked through.’
‘You were dragged under and pinned to the bottom by a rolling branch. I had to duck under the water to free you. If you hadn’t been so intent on saving Boots, you might have thought to undo your skirt and step out of it.’
‘I’m still impressed.’
There was a short pause, then he chuckled. ‘Not impressed enough, obviously. You know, I think you’d make a good lawyer, Sarry. Take care, and don’t worry. We’re leaving in about two minutes, so I’ll see you in a little while.’
The telephone went dead.
Flynn Collins was in the farmhouse. The farmer and his wife were locked in the cellar, and it was peaceful now they’d stopped their bellowing. He’d been tempted to shoot the farmer and take the woman with him, but she’d prove to be a hindrance to him.
He didn’t know whether he’d killed Magnus Kern or not, but it didn’t matter now. The game was up. The girl had certainly recognized him earlier. By now she would have alerted someone in authority and they’d know he was abroad. He was under no illusion that they’d hunt him down, then shoot him on sight.
The only place he could think of to hide was in the cave in the cove, though he’d have to move the shingle that had built up against the opening – make it big enough to crawl through, anyway. He’d explored the cave before, as far as it went, and it should keep him high and dry. The farmer had told him that they’d been used for smuggling goods through the tunnels to the cellars of Fierce Eagles, but they’d been blocked by John Kern.
He wondered how far back the caves went, how thoroughly they’d been blocked and how far the tide took the water up the tunnels. The thought of hiding under the house of the people who were hunting him down was appealing. It would be the last place they’d look. He had a fishing boat coming for him the day after tomorrow, one that his cousin in Poole had arranged. Once he reached the quay he could slip aboard the ship that had his stoker acquaintance on. He hoped the storm would blow itself out before then. He wasn’t a good sailor.
He filled his pockets with any cash he could find then thrust some food and a bottle of water into a bag. He took the farmer’s bottle of whisky from the sideboard as he left, and stuffed a blanket from the farmer’s bed under his coat.
With the rain pelting down and the sky glowering dark grey, he headed across the field, keeping to the shelter of the hedgerow. He stopped when he saw movement down by the farmhouse. Sinking to the muddy soil of the field, which stank of the muck he’d spread the week before, he gazed down at the farmyard.
He’d got out just in time. There were soldiers, two of them. When they went into the farmhouse Flynn turned and ran, bending double to the ground. He wasn’t going to have the head start he’d thought he’d have. He made it undetected to the copse that sheltered the field from the wind coming off the sea, stood in the shadows and took his bearings. The soldiers had come out. So had the farmer and his wife. The woman was waving her arms around, and she pointed towards the stable. The soldiers headed for it, guns foremost.
She was like everyone else, he thought. She’d got what she wanted from him. Now she was eager to hand him over to the authorities.
Flynn didn’t like being used and his eyes narrowed. If he had a rifle he could have picked them off from here one by one, he thought. But then, the soldiers and the farmer had rifles too. They could pick him off just as easily if they clapped eyes on him. Besides he didn’t want to hurt the woman who was carrying his kid. Flynn liked the thought of his by-blow inheriting this farm. It would give the kid a good start in life, which was more than he’d been given.
Sarry Maitland came into his mind and regret pinched at his guts. He should have stayed in the goldfields and looked after her, not given in to greed. She’d grown into a pretty little thing, and he was glad the bullet had missed her.
He was relieved when he reached the copse, and was able to disappear into the shadows. He headed along the path that lead downwards to the cove on the other side. He just hoped the tide was out.
Magnus opened his eyes. He was in bed . . . his own bed. Something wasn’t quite right. It took him a while to figure out what it was. He remembered Sarette meeting him with the gig. He couldn’t remember coming home in it.
He sat, and was rewarded by a steady throb in his head. He felt bandaging and groaned as he remembered her slapping Gerald. Had he gone too far with her and she’d brained him?
The light was turned up and she was standing there, a rifle in her arms, her face pinched with worry.
Alarmed, he whispered, ‘Do you intend to shoot me, Sarry?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ One lonely tear trickled down her cheek like a bright diamond. ‘Thank goodness you’re all right, Magnus.’