Lord Atherton's Ward (7 page)

She didn’t dare to look over her shoulder to see how her groom was managing. Gripping fiercely with her knees, her hands entwined in the mane, she urged Bess forward with voice and heels. Several times the horse stumbled, but continued without either of them coming to harm. The end was in sight; a few more yards and they’d be safe at the top of the cliff. ‘Come on, Bess, we’re nearly there. It will be much easier for you when we’re back on level ground.’

The horse responded, she felt the muscles bunch under her hands and then with a final heave they were there. She turned to see how much further Bill had to travel with Sultan. He had more than a third of the way to travel, but the gelding was climbing steadily, apparently ignoring the driving rain. They were going to be all right.

A sudden crash of thunder directly overhead made Bess rear in fright and she felt herself falling and then everything went black.

* * * *

The weather continued to deteriorate as Perry, his friend by his side, galloped behind the two grooms in the direction of the sea. He’d donned his riding coat and was glad he’d done so. After thirty minutes hard riding his mount was still full of energy; he had a feeling he was going to need every ounce of strength the animal had before this incident was over.

The grooms gestured towards a woodland up ahead. He waved back, there was no point in attempting to converse, the wind whipped away the words. Dickon was thundering along completely at ease in spite of the storm and his damaged leg. He smiled across at him and he raised his hand.

Beneath the trees it was dark and although the path was flat enough to gallop he thought it better to drop back into a canter. He sat back in the saddle exerting a slight pressure on the reins and the hunter responded instantly. It was also quieter out of the rain and he was able to make himself heard.

‘Dickon, from what the groom told me before we left, the other side of this woodland are the cliffs. Miss Ellison must have met with an accident or are we would have seen them by now.’

‘I fear that you’re correct. I pray that whatever has transpired it’s nothing serious.’

The trees were thinning out and Perry could hear another sound above that of the wind. For a moment he didn’t recognize it, then he realised it was the waves breaking on the cliffs that he could hear. He kicked his mount faster and rode alongside the grooms.

‘Is there a track that leads along the top of the cliffs?’

The man’s face was pale. ‘No, my lord, you have to ride along the beach for a mile, then you can get back on to the track.’

‘Dammit! So we cannot get to where Miss Ellison intended to have a picnic until the tide has gone out again?’

‘No, sir. We can ride back the way we came and take the long way round, that would take us another hour at least, but it would be quicker than waiting here.’

He reined in and turned to speak to Dickon. ‘Did you hear that? We have to turn back and go through the villages, it’s not possible to get through this way now the tide’s in.’

‘Let’s give the horses a breather, shelter here for a short while. Twenty minutes will not make any difference to Miss Ellison, but if we press on immediately and our mounts will be blown before we’re finished.’

‘Very well, you wait here. But I’m going to ride to the cliffs and check for myself.’ What he didn’t say was that the assumption that Sarah was safe at the other side of the headland could be erroneous. What if they’d been caught by the tide? He felt sick. Suddenly he knew he had to hurry, knew that every second counted. Twenty minutes was far too long.

He rode around the grooms and slapped his reins either side of his horse’s neck. Ignoring the shout of warning from his friend he urged it faster, galloping flat-out towards the gap in the trees where the path down to the beach would be.

* * * *

It was so cold and wet. Where was she and what was that dreadful banging noise below her?

Why did her head hurt so much? Slowly Sarah came to her senses and remembered that she’d taken a tumble when Bess had reared unexpectedly. Without moving she flexed her legs and found that they were both unbroken. Next she slid her right hand sideways - it touched a solid mass. Puzzled she spread out her left hand and found it was dangling in a void.

She froze in shock. There was only one place she could be. Forcing her eyes open she carefully turned her head, a searing pain ripped through and for a moment everything went black again. When she came to she knew where she was, knew what had happened. She had fallen over the cliff but by some miracle had landed on a narrow ledge and was resting there, above the waves, but from the sound, not far enough.

From a distance she heard a voice calling her. This time she knew better than to open her eyes or move her head. She opened her mouth and tried to call out but the sound was small, not nearly loud enough to carry to whoever was shouting at her. She tried to make sense of what she heard. It must be Bill shouting down to her; this meant at least he was safe. That was all that mattered, they were both alive. Jane would send out a search party when she didn’t return and she would be rescued. All she had to do was lie still until help came.

It was strange, but she felt as if she was lying in a puddle. A very cold puddle. Maybe the rain had collected and she was resting in that. Then it felt as if someone had tipped a bucket of water over her feet and she knew what it was. The ledge she was on was not above sea level. If she didn’t get to her feet she would be swept away or drowned by the incoming tide.

From somewhere she found the strength to push herself upright. Her head spun, but she knew if she didn’t move she would die. Another wave broke across and instantly her skirts were sodden. They would weigh her down, she would have no chance if she was washed into the sea with all that heavy material around her ankles.

Her fingers were so stiff with cold she wasn’t sure they’d do her bidding. She reached behind and found the button that held her habit secure around her waist. If she could undo it, the garment would fall to her ankles leaving her in her britches and boots, she would have a better chance like that. Eventually she succeeded and felt her skirt to begin to slide down her hips. All she had to do was get to her feet and then at least her head would be above the waves even if her feet were submerged.

She swallowed a mouthful of salt water and coughed, almost losing her balance and toppling into the sea. The pain in her head was so bad she couldn’t think straight. She knew she had to be upright and turn her back to the cliff. Nothing else mattered. She ignored the frantic shouts coming from somewhere above her, it was taking all her concentration to accomplish these simple tasks.

Slowly she inched her way up the cliff until she was upright. The skirt of her habit pooled around her feet; she moved first one and then the other until she was free of it. Her boots were waterproof, standing upright she felt less vulnerable, the sea seemed further away. Until it reached her knees she would be safe.

Pressing her shoulders back she prayed for deliverance. Prayed she wouldn’t pass out again, for if she did she knew she would not wake up in this world.

* * * *

Perry burst on to the cliff top. The first thing he saw were two horses standing, tails to the wind, heads down, and riderless. He turned in the saddle and shouted back to the other three. ‘For God’s sake, make haste. There’s been a disaster here.’

He had more sense than to race towards the animals. He pulled his mount back to trot and shouted again, this time to the missing riders. ‘Sarah, can you hear me? Hold on, I shall have you safe soon enough.’ Empty words in view of the evidence, but he wasn’t going to abandon hope until…. well, not until his last breath.

The horses whickered at his approach, obviously relieved to find they had not been totally abandoned. He vaulted from the saddle and tossed the reins over the animal’s ears, he doubted it would go far from the other two. Not waiting for his friend he ran pell-mell towards the cliffs. He skidded to a halt, eyes wide with horror. A way down the steep path he could see the groom, he was lying flat on his face, he was shouting but he couldn’t make out what he was saying the roar of the sea and the howling of the wind made it impossible.

He needed the rope. He spun and saw that Dickon had arrived beside the horses. He pointed to the rear of his saddle and his friend reacted instantly. You could always rely on a military man to follow orders. Knowing that the means to rescue Sarah was at hand he skidded down the scree arriving in a shower of debris beside the groom.

The man heard him and rolled over. Perry wasn’t sure if it was tears or rain he could see trickling down his face. Wordlessly the groom gestured and Perry dropped to his stomach and peered over the edge. His throat constricted. She was standing almost up to her knees in the waves, her back pressed desperately against the cliff face, her hands outstretched as if trying to grip the stone.

‘It’s no use, my lord, she don’t answer me. I reckon another fifteen minutes and the water will be over her head.’

Perry didn’t bother to answer. She was alive. That was all that mattered. He wasn’t going to lose her now. He stripped off his riding coat and jacket and dropped to the ground in order to remove his boots. It would be easier to climb down to her barefoot.

Dickon arrived at his side, took one look and knew what he had to do. ‘Here, tie the rope under your arms. Stand still; I’ll do it for you.’

‘There’s four of you; that’s more than enough to pull us back up.’

He turned and dropped over the edge relying on his friend to support him. He plummeted the three yards to the ledge, the rope pulling him up short in the nick of time. Another second and he would have lost his footing.

* * * *

There was a voice closer to her now. Was the voice of God calling her home? She was so tired, it would be easy to go to sleep, to get away from the cold and the noise. Then rough hands had her shoulders and the voice was speaking in her ear.

‘Sarah, sweetheart, you must wake up. I’m here now. You’re safe. But you must listen to me, I need you to do something.’

How odd! It sounded just like Atherton. She must already be asleep, he couldn’t possibly be standing next to her on the ledge. The hands on her shoulders became more insistent, they were shaking her, banging her remorselessly against the cliff. Her head ricocheted against the stone and she screamed. The pain jerked her back to consciousness.

She opened her eyes and found herself being cradled by her guardian. He had come to save her. It didn’t matter that he’d hurt her head again, she was going to live because he was here beside her.

‘Sarah, I’m putting your arms around my neck, and if you must try and wrap your legs around my waist. You must hold on, your life depends on it. I can support you with one arm, but I need the other to climb back.’

She couldn’t speak, but from somewhere found the strength to grip his shirt. It was beyond her to lift her legs as he suggested. He put his arms under her bottom and hoisted her up, then pushed her legs behind him. She could feel the blackness creeping up on her again. She must not pass out. She had to hold on.

‘I’m ready. Start pulling, for God’s sake make it quick.’

She rested her frozen cheek against his shoulder and twisted her fingers into his shirt. She gripped with her knees as if he was her horse. She couldn’t stay awake, but she was safe now, it wouldn’t matter if she slept a little.

Chapter Seven

Perry knew he was in trouble. He had his stockinged feet braced hard against the cliff face, Sarah in front of him with legs dangling on either side, her arms around his neck. He was supporting her with only one arm and now she was unconscious.

Her fingers were entangled in his shirt which would hold her steady for a few moments. The only way he could get safely to the top was if he released his grip and put both arms around her waist.

The rope was under his arms; he wasn’t sure if he could hold it in place using just his elbows. He had been supporting most of his weight through this hand. If the line had to carry them both he had a horrible feeling it would slip off over his head and they would crash into the sea.

He was safe for the moment. His feet steady, both arms around the girl. He tipped his head back and shouted against the wind. ‘She’s unconscious. I’m not sure if the rope will hold us both. You have to get us up. Do it fast.’

Dickon’s head appeared briefly over the edge and he signalled his ascent. The rope tightened and Perry felt his chest constrict. Good God! What now? The double burden on the knot had caused it to tighten, it was only a matter of time before it crushed his ribs.

He gritted his teeth, using his feet to assist, glad he had removed his boots. He would not have had enough purchase with them on. Breathing shallowly, he prayed they would be safe before he passed out too.

Strong arms reached over the edge and took Sarah from him, then he was gripped and thrown bodily to the path. He didn’t have to tell Dickon what had happened, it was obvious. He was dizzy, his eyes blurred from lack of air. Then the constriction eased, he opened his eyes to see his friend crouched next to him a wicked blade in his hand.

‘I never travel without it. My boot knife, it’s saved my life many times and has now done the same for you.’

Gasping as he filled his lungs, Perry couldn’t speak, but gripped his friends hand indicating he should heave him upright. He must see how Sarah was. The rain was worse, and then the sky was lit by a jagged sheet of lightning.

The horses! If it thundered, they’d lose them all. Two of the grooms vanished before he could speak, obviously realising the danger for themselves.

Dickon was now on his knees beside Sarah. He had wrapped her in the blankets which were moderately dry, but it wasn’t enough. They needed to get her back, into a hot bath and a bed warmed by hot bricks. He shrugged into the greatcoat he had discarded earlier.

He pulled on his boots ignoring the blood that was dripping from the soles of his feet. ‘Let’s get moving, the storms worsening, and it’s a long ride back.’ Speaking hurt his throat, his voice grated.