“And how would you be knowing things like that, child?” Grace asked with a chuckle.

“My mother ordered one and within a week found it so uncomfortable she sent it to my uncle Jason to use as a decoration in one of his gardens. M’father laughed and laughed about that, which had my mother quite annoyed with him. It’s a bone of contention with her, that she has nothing to spend her money on, because he buys her everything she could ever want.”

“But why was he amused that she didn’t keep the coach?” Katey asked.

“It was that it ended up being such an expensive garden piece that he found so funny!”

Katey smiled at the girl. “Well, I’m sure not all French coaches are as uncomfortable as your mother’s was, but thank you for the warning.”

The mention of the word warning had the child offering up a warning of her own. “That woman could have a weapon.”

Katey’s expression turned serious again. “I know. But I’ll have one myself shortly, just as soon as we reach the next town. You’re probably getting hungry again, too. Let’s hope our ‘follower’ heads down a different road so we can stop for breakfast.”

They did stop at the next town, and when Katey returned to the coach with a small pistol tucked into her reticule, she already knew they were still being watched.

“She thinks she’s being clever, that we don’t know she’s there,” Grace said when Katey rejoined them. “But she’s definitely keeping an eye on us.”

Katey took her seat before she peered across the street at the old coach with the woman standing behind it, trying to be unobtrusive as she peeked around it. “We should just confront her.”

“Don’t do that!” Judith said in alarm. “I couldn’t bear it if you got hurt because of me.”

Katey gave it a moment’s thought, then said, “I’m concerned that she might stop us again on a deserted stretch of the highway and do something more reckless.” Katey didn’t really want to have to actually use her new pistol. “I’m also picturing a mad, dangerous dash through the streets of London when we get close to your house and she gets desperate to stop us.”

“You would imagine something like that,” Grace mumbled in disgust.

Katey ignored the maid and continued, “The fool woman obviously didn’t believe us and is sure we have you and are taking you back to your family. So the easiest way for us to convince her that she’s on the wrong track is for us to not travel immediately to London.”

“You want to rent a room at the inn here and wait her out?” Grace guessed.

“That would be ideal, but how are we going to get Judith inside when the woman is watching us this closely? We need to lose her first, and the only way to do that is to convince her she’s wrong. This town isn’t far enough off the highway for her to think we aren’t still heading to London. But if it appears that we’re retracing our steps—”

“North?” Grace cut in.

“Yes, maybe even back to Northampton, since it’s not that far from here. I know that’s going out of our way, but she’s more likely to think she’s wasting her time and take her search elsewhere if she sees us riding in the opposite direction of London.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Grace admitted.

“I know,” Katey said, pleased with herself. “We can even get a room in a different inn and have a nice lunch sent up while we pass a few hours, just to make sure she’s no longer in the area. I’d like to give her time to get off the highway so we don’t run into her again later. And we’ll still have plenty of time to get Judith home before nightfall.”

“That’s assuming she doesn’t follow directly behind us all the way back to Northampton.”

“Well, let’s find out.”

They implemented the new plan, heading back the way they’d come. Grace still kept a close eye on the road behind them. It was disappointing to see that the Scotswoman hadn’t given up yet. She was still back there, though at a greater distance. And then it was a relief to see her stop a rider heading in their same direction.

Grace closed the curtain over the window and sat back in her seat with a smile. “Doubt is taking hold of her. It looks like she’s starting to stop others to ask if they’ve seen the girl. Before long we might even lose sight of her.”

Chapter Seven

ALL RIGHT, YANK,” Anthony said, “I’m going to trust you to carry out the switch. But I’m not going to be far away in case anything goes wrong.”

Boyd was inordinately pleased that Anthony Malory was expressing confidence in him. Perhaps it was because his family still viewed him as the “baby brother,” a hothead who was quick to engage in fisticuffs. While his brothers grew older, they failed to notice that he did, too. Yes, he admired pugilists greatly and welcomed any chance to test his own skills, but he was far less impulsive than he’d once been. He was gratified that a Malory, and one he actually admired, recognized that he was capable of handling such a tense, important situation.

Anthony wasn’t about to wait until tomorrow for the exchange to take place when he could try to find his daughter today. Northampton was only a few hours’ hard ride away, after all. They could be there and search the entire town before nightfall. Not that they were going to do anything so obvious. They didn’t know how many people were involved in the blackmail scheme and couldn’t take the chance that the criminals would be watching for a search like that, or even watching the roads. Which was why Anthony, Jeremy, and Boyd left London in a coach.

Three horses were tied to the back of it in case they needed to move more quickly. But the coach would conceal Anthony, who would, they assumed, be recognized, and Jeremy, who closely resembled Anthony. Boyd merely rode along with them while they figured out their separate plans of action.

“They’d be stupid to set up a meeting place near their own town,” Anthony speculated. “So I seriously doubt they live anywhere near Northampton, which eliminates a door-to-door search. But they might be holding Judy in an abandoned house or barn, someplace where they can keep Judith without drawing notice to her.”

“You think they’d sneak her into an inn?” Boyd asked.

“Maybe,” Jeremy said. “She’s small. It could be done, so we probably shouldn’t discount it.”

“If we’re discussing all possibilities, they could take her anywhere without sneaking about if they’ve threatened her into being quiet,” Boyd pointed out. “Would she do as she’s told? Or is she brave enough to yell for help?”

Anthony slammed his fist sideways into the wall of the coach. “She’s probably too terrified to do anything!”

Jeremy tried to ignore the outburst from his distraught uncle and told Boyd, “She’s as gutsy as my sister Jack is, and too smart to do anything foolish. Why don’t you check the inns. I really can’t see them being stupid enough to use an inn where other people might notice, but we have to cover all possibilities. My uncle and I will drive around and look out for abandoned buildings.”

“You keep supposing they aren’t stupid, but I have to disagree,” Boyd said. “They did this. They’re damn stupid. But I know what I need to do and where to meet you two later to report my progress, so I’ll take off now and get started on the search. Hopefully I’ll have some news by the time you roll into town.”

They stopped long enough for Boyd to get his horse and ride off. As much as they’d like to, they couldn’t all race toward Northampton. That would attract attention. The coach was going to progress in a normal manner, while Boyd would reach the town an hour or two sooner.

Grimly thinking about what he was going to do if he got his hands on the people who did this, Boyd almost didn’t see the wild woman turning her coach around in the middle of the road. On horseback, he merely moved around the ancient vehicle, thinking the woman shouldn’t be driving if she didn’t know how to turn around without blocking the entire road.

“Wait up, mon,” the wild-haired woman shouted at him. “I’m looking for my daughter. The lass has run away from home again. Ha’ ye seen—”

Boyd didn’t stop, but shouted back, “I’ve seen no women today other than you.”

“I’m no’ that auld, mon, tae be having a grown child yet,” she called back in an offended tone.

Boyd was running out of patience. He’d already been stopped twice for directions that he couldn’t give. He was following directions himself!

So he said simply, “I’ve seen no females of any sort. Good day.” And he rode on.

He made good time after that, galloping past other vehicles going his way, avoiding those heading south. But about twenty minutes later, a red-haired gent racing down the road on a horse pulled up to hail him.

“Ha’ ye seen a Scotswomon heading this way?”

Boyd didn’t answer, he just pointed his thumb behind him and rode on. Busy road, but if anyone else tried to stop him, he might just speak with the pistol in his pocket.

Chapter Eight

GEORDIE CAMERON WAS TERRIFIED. He should just go home and leave his wife, Maisie, to her own devices. If she ever returned to Scotland, she’d find a divorce waiting for her, or a jail cell.

Sleep on it, she’d said? He’d wanted her to sleep on it so they could agree in the morning to take the child home and never do anything so stupid again. That was the only outcome that would allow him to forgive Maisie. But he’d woken to an empty room and a scrawled note that the child had escaped.

Well, good for her, had been his first thought, although he couldn’t imagine how she’d done it after Maisie had tied her to the bed, but he’d hoped that was the end of it.

He’d packed his bag, found that his driver and coach were waiting where they should be, and asked the innkeeper where his wife was. The man hadn’t seen her, but in a gossiping mood, mentioned that someone had come looking for an old coach that had been stolen. And that’s when the fear came back.

He was afraid his wife had gone looking for the girl again, and if she found her, that she’d continue with her extortion plans. Then Anthony Malory would find Geordie and kill him. He could envision no other outcome—unless he could find Maisie first.

He borrowed a saddle for one of his coach horses, thinking he could catch up to Maisie much quicker that way. Having to pass through Northampton slowed him down a little, since the inn they’d stayed at was on the north road out of town. But the city wasn’t as big as it might have been after a fire had destroyed most of it in 1675, and the streets had actually been widened during the rebuilding.

South was the only direction he could think to go. The child would travel in that direction to get back to London. Hopefully she hadn’t just set off down the road on foot. Maisie would find her too easily that way. But she could have gotten a ride if she was smart enough to ask someone. It was a well-traveled road, especially in the morning when produce was being brought in to market. She might even already be home. He could hope…

It was Maisie he had to find and drag home. Not that he wouldn’t take Roslynn’s daughter home if he happened to find her instead. But he’d just as soon not go anywhere near the Malorys. And a lot of travelers were on the road. He didn’t ask them all, but the few he did stop kept pointing him south. Maisie was making a nuisance of herself, apparently, according to one farmer.

But then the traffic slowed down. He’d passed several roads that went off in other directions. He was beginning to wonder if he was going the right way still. Did this road go all the way to London? He couldn’t remember from his one other time in England. And there’d been no one to ask for the last half hour. But then he saw another coach heading his way and rode quickly toward it.

Anthony Malory’s driver had been told to stop for no one, and he’d had to get nasty a couple times, to keep from slowing down. But this new traveler was persistent and rode alongside the coach for a moment to ask, “Ha’ ye seen a Scotswoman? She’d be driving a coach, I’m guessing, unless she stole a horse,” and then in a shout as the coach kept rolling by him, “Ye could ha’ just said nae, mon!”

Anthony yanked aside the coach curtain, vaguely recognizing that voice. He just caught sight of the carrot-red hair as the petitioner continued on his way down the road. That was enough for him to pound on the roof to get the driver to stop. Geordie Cameron in the same vicinity as the people who’d taken his daughter? The same man who’d gone to extremes to steal Roslynn’s fortune from her eight years ago? Coincidental? Not bloody likely.

He leapt out of the coach before it fully stopped. Geordie was still close enough that Anthony didn’t even bother grabbing his horse tied to the back of the coach. He simply raced after him and almost reached him, too. But Geordie had heard something to make him glance back. And seeing the one man he’d hoped to never see again bearing down on him…

Geordie shrieked, slammed his heels into his mount, and tore off into the woods alongside the road. Disgusted to have missed grabbing him by mere inches, Anthony ran back for his own mount.

Jeremy was out of the coach by then and even handed Anthony the reins to his horse, having witnessed the chase. He merely asked, “Who is it?”

“A dead man,” Anthony said as he mounted up and turned around to give chase. “He just doesn’t know it yet,” he added before he, too, disappeared into the woods.

His mount was a Thoroughbred. Geordie was riding a coach horse. It didn’t take long to catch up to him, yank him off his horse, and drop him on the ground.