Page 20 of The Sprinter
But why should any of it be his concern? The lady was very fortunate, having been rescued from poverty by his aunt. If she chose to squander the chance on some feckless individual, why should that concern him?
He could not say, he could only notice that hewasconcerned.
George turned the corner and reined in his horse at the sight of the activity ahead of him.
He squinted his eyes, certain his first glance was mistaken.
Was he drunk? Or was Miss Yardley just now sliding down a drainpipe while Jacobs and his friends watched, and his aunt’s butler waved a gun?
*
Grace had pokedher head out the window to be certain she would not be spotted. The street had been quiet in the early dawn.
She had donned her riding habit and had almost hesitated. It was a mad plan, she knew well enough. Was she being too hasty? Too dramatic? Too foolish?
Perhaps all of those things. But foolish or not, she had a duty to her mother and she could not very well ignore a cry for help. She had done the sensible thing first—she had gone to Lady Heathway. Getting nowhere with that, though, forced her to do the not very sensible thing.
Firm in her resolve, she’d hitched her skirt and climbed out.
As she made her way down the side of the house, the sudden sound of horses’ hooves trotting on the cobbles pierced the silence of early dawn. A group of gentlemen on horseback had rounded the corner and were making their way down the street. Grace stayed still, pressed against the stone of the house and hoping they would not notice her.
The trotting slowed, and then ceased. They had reined in their horses. As there seemed to be a deal of laughing, it became clear enough that theyhadnoticed her and had no intention of moving on. So be it, they could not stop her, and in any case were probably so drunk that when they sobered up they would not be sure what they’d actually seen. It was not as if she could change her mind and go back up—down was the only direction she had strength for.
She continued her descent, ignoring the idea that she now had an audience. Reaching her foot down to the next brace, she put her weight on it and it gave way with a very loud scraping sound.
She reached her now dangling foot for the next below, praying it was sturdier. As she did so, the doors below slammed open and she heard a very loud shout. “Ah hah! I knew it, you rogue!”
A moment later, a bullet whizzed by her head.
Did Ranston just try to shoot her?
Heavens above, he had. The butler was completely mad. And she was in danger of another bullet coming her way if he could reload fast enough.
“Mr. Ranston,” she called to him, “it is only me. Grace Yardley.”
She let go of her handhold and reached for the next. She missed it and felt herself flying through the air. She landed with a thud into the shrubbery.
Grace was stunned for a moment. Her head slowly began to clear as she assessed the damage. She did not seem to have broken anything, but it began to dawn on her that perhaps broken bones would have been the least of her problems anyway.
The men on horseback were roaring with laughter. Ranston was loudly weeping in despair. A window opened above her and Grace could just make out Lady Heathway in her curl papers. Worse, Lord Gresham’s face suddenly appeared above her own. “Miss Yardley?”
This had not been one of her better executed plans.
*
George had pulledMiss Yardley from the shrubbery, chased off Jacobs and his drunken friends, walked Ranston into the house and given him a large brandy, met his aunt flying down the stairs, and waved to his uncle who peered over the banister. He had, he hoped, managed to get the doors shut before curious neighbors poked their heads out of their windows at the sound of a gunshot.
Now, they were all in the library. Ranston stared into his now empty glass and muttered, “I thought it was an intruder, how could I know it was Miss Yardley? How could I have foreseen that she would be hanging from the side of the house? Nobody told me she might be hanging from the side of the house!”
“Ranston,” Lady Heathway said, “you must calm yourself. Take comfort in the knowledge that your aim is not very good and calamity has been avoided.”
Ranston did not look particularly comforted by that idea and only held out his glass for more brandy. George refilled it and hoped a second dose would steady the fellow.
Much to his amazement, Miss Yardley looked neither shaken by the experience, nor abashed to have been caught hanging onto a drainpipe, nor concerned that the skirt of her riding habit was ripped in several places. Rather, she said, “I am sorry to have inconvenienced everyone, but it is necessary that I go to my mother immediately. It is true I took an unusual route out of the house, but I did not see another option.”
Lord Heathway said, “But what were you planning to do, my dear? You did not intend to ride there alone?”
“Oh no,” Grace said, “I would take a groom.”
