Barbara Metzger Read Online Free Page B

Lundquist hid his wallet again. Amazingly, the bridle culls didn’t demand money and jewels, which was a relief to Kathlyn, since she had precious little of the first and only her mama’s locket of the second. Contrary to Mrs. Tibbett’s high-pitched prediction, the high toby men weren’t interested in rape or abduction either. They, too, wanted merely to search the carriage.
    Whatever they were seeking wasn’t there. The shorter of the men spit at the slamming door. “T’bastid couldn’t a got far, not with me good knife in ‘im.”
    The other outlaw was already mounting his horse. “To hell with yer shiv. I want the bloody jewels the flash cove prigged from us.”
    The guard had to be helped inside, where Kathlyn held the man’s muffler against his shoulder to stop the bleeding. Mr. Lundquist, having taken on a greenish cast, decided to ride up with the driver, to give her more room. The young couple was no assistance either, Mrs. Tibbett having hysterics and her husband resorting to his flask.
    When they reached Lichfield, every one of the inside passengers had to be helped out of the coach. Kathlyn thought her arms would never unbend from holding the guard upright for so long. He’d live, and so would a limp Mrs. Tibbett, taken in hand by the landlady. Mr. Tibbett was another matter, casting up his accounts in the stable yard.
    The driver decided to spend the night there. The Mail was supposed to run through the night, with carriage lamps lighting the way. Not without a guard, the driver decided, not with so many miscreants on the road. He did send a messenger on ahead to London, a boy who could ride cross-country, warning the dispatch office of the delay. Kathlyn parted with a handful of coins to see that Lady Rotterdean was also notified.
    The next morning they left early with fresh horses, jugs of hot cider, and a substitute guard, who never even drew his pistol at the man standing in the roadway. Mr. Lundquist didn’t bother hiding his money this time, and Mrs. Tibbett didn’t bother working herself into a tizzy. She just went off in a dead faint across her husband’s narrow chest.
    Kathlyn was entirely out of patience. “How dare you—” she began when the door opened.
    “How do you do, miss. Would you mind if I share the carriage with you good people? My horse seems to have decided that it’s not fit weather for man nor beast today, and gone off without me.” The stranger drew his heavy frieze coat closer around himself. “I really need to be on my way.”
    The man looked cold and weary, as if he and his horse had parted company some miles back. Kathlyn edged over on the seat to make room, trying not to crowd Mr. Lundquist overmuch. That gentleman didn’t move an inch closer toward the window, muttering about how the driver must have accepted a heavy bribe to put some stray passenger on the waybill. Meanwhile, Mrs. Tibbett was moaning as her husband waved a vinaigrette under her nose. The newcomer looked toward Kathlyn, so she explained about the highwaymen and the posse and the injured guard, remembering to offer the man some of the hot cider. He accepted gratefully, but with shaking hands, from being out in the cold, Kathlyn supposed. He seemed interested in her story, even smiling a bit, but then pulled his hat lower over his eyes and slumped in his corner. He didn’t awaken at the next two stops, forcing the others to clamber over his legs.
    When they halted for a quick supper, Kathlyn tried to rouse the man. “Mr. Miner, sir? The driver says there won’t be another break until morning,” she warned, “except to change the horses, of course. You must come into the inn now or you’ll go hungry.”
    When he pushed his hat back, Kathlyn could see that Mr. Miner was not simply weary, but ill. He was ashen in color, with deep lines etched in his face. “I don’t wish to intrude, sir, but you must have taken a chill or some hurt from your toss. You should stay here where a physician can