Marshal and the Heiress (38 page)

Ben hesitated, and then he saw a movement at the bend of the road. A rider. A second later, he recognized Lisbeth. The sound of hoofbeats alerted Trapp, too, and he moved his horse back so he could see the road, while still keeping his gun on Ben and Cameron.

Lisbeth started to canter up to them, and Ben saw her face, saw it change when she noticed the gun in Trapp's hand and where it was pointing.

“No!” she said, pulling hard on her reins.

Trapp's mouth worked for a moment, then turned hard. “Don't come any closer, Lady Lisbeth.”

But she did, moving Shadow until he was nearly abreast of Trapp's horse. The two beasts sidestepped, each pawing the ground and snorting, and for an instant, Ben thought he might have a chance to reach for his gun while Trapp fought, one-handed, to control his mount. But the trainer got the animal to back off from Lisbeth's stallion without his gun hand wavering even once.

“I'm sorry, Lady Lisbeth,” Trapp said slowly. “I dinna want ye to be involved.”

“Involved in—”

Then comprehension flooded her face. And horror. “Not you,” she whispered. “Please, not you.”

“They have to die, Lady Lisbeth. We can still do it, you and I. We can still win the Grand National. We can make Shadow the greatest horse in Britain.” His face took on a look of desperation.

“No,” Lisbeth said. “You shoot them, and you'll have to shoot me.”

“Don't say that, Lady Lisbeth,” he pleaded. “It's always been the two of us, ever since ye came to Calholm. I did everything for ye.” Trapp gestured with his pistol toward Ben. “He don't deserve Calholm.”

Her voice had a frantic edge to it as she said, “But if you kill him and Sarah Ann, Hugh will inherit,
not me.
”

Trapp cursed. “If I had killed the American in the woods, then ever'thing would ha' been right. Ye could 'ave adopted the lass, and managed Calholm. But I dinna kill 'im, and I canna wait longer. He might sell the horses. With the lass gone, your cousin could meet with another … mishap.”

“No,” she said. “You couldn't think I would—”

“It's right, Lady Lisbeth,” Trapp insisted.

Ben watched Lisbeth's face pale. She looked at Sarah Ann in Drew's arms, then back at Trapp. Then, with calculated intent—Ben could almost see her make the decision—she relaxed her hold on Shadow's reins, and the snorting, agitated stallion made straight for Trapp's horse.

“No!” Ben shouted.

Trapp saw, too, but with only one hand on the reins, he could do little to keep his mount from rising to Shadow's challenge. His attention on Ben wavered—and so did the gun hand.

It was all Ben needed. He kicked his horse forward, closing the few yards between himself and Trapp before Lisbeth and her rearing stallion reached them. Then he launched himself at the Scotsman. At the same time, the pistol turned back toward him and discharged, and he felt a bullet graze his side only a second before his body hit Trapp's.

They both went tumbling to the ground. Trapp landed beneath him, hitting the ground hard, but desperation gave the trainer strength. Twice, Trapp tried to kick him, but Ben ploughed a fist into the twisted, angry face—once, twice, three times, until the trainer lay still.

Ben sat up painfully and looked to see that Lisbeth had tied Shadow to a tree at the side of the road. Trapp's horse appeared to have lost interest with the challenge now removed.

Drew had dismounted, laid Sarah Ann on the grass, and he and Lisbeth were both coming toward him. Lisbeth looked sick, her glance going from Ben to her longtime friend and trainer, who still lay, groaning, on the ground. Then, quickly, she hurried to where Sarah Ann lay.

“Is she …?”

“She's been drugged for two days,” Ben said. “She should be coming out of it soon.”

Lisbeth leaned down and hugged Sarah Ann, listening to her breathe—as he too had done, Ben thought, to convince himself she was all right.

Then Lisbeth's gaze met his, her eyes full of grief. “I told him,” she whispered. “I told Callum you'd gone to Glasgow. Duncan said he was not to tell anyone, but I didn't think …”

Ben climbed to his feet, stepped over to her, and pulled her into his arms. “You didn't know,” he said.

But she looked up at him with eyes filled with guilt. “He said he did it for me.”

“He did it for
himself,
” Drew interrupted. “He wanted a Grand National champion, no matter the cost. You were his justification. But it was his need, not yours.”

“Maybe it
was
my need,” she said brokenly.

Ben felt her trembling, and his hold tightened. “Trapp did it, Lisbeth. Not you, for God's sake. He was obsessed.”

The tremors in her seemed to increase, and he felt her heartbreak.

“He was going to hurt Sarah Ann.”

“I think he tried to avoid that,” Ben said gently. “His first hope was to get rid of me so you could adopt her. When that didn't work, he went ahead with plans to kidnap her. Baxter said he was to take her to America, sell her to a family who wanted a child.”

Lisbeth's body was so rigid, he thought it might shatter.

“We might all be dead if you hadn't come when you did,” he said gently. “Damn, you were magnificent. Any other woman would have swooned. But you did everything just right—although you nearly gave me heart failure when I saw you were going to let those two stallions fight it out.”

“Shadow and Firestorm hate each other,” she said in a small voice. Then, suddenly, she wrenched away from him and stood alone, holding her arms with her hands as if she were freezing cold.

He tried to take her in his arms again, but she turned away, and the despairing look in her face kept him from trying again. She couldn't accept comforting now. Not yet. He knew exactly how she felt. He had felt that way when Mary May had died. His heart ached for the agony he knew she was suffering, and yet he knew no caress, no words would help at this moment. She needed time.

Trapp moved slightly, and Drew picked up the trainer's pistol, which lay in the road, then went and stood over the prisoner. Trapp sat up painfully, his gaze going to Lisbeth.

“Lady Lisbeth?” It was a plea for understanding. “Calholm should always have been yours.”

“No,” she said, her voice lifeless. “I'm not a Hamilton. Sarah Ann is. Dear God, Callum, how could you?”

“Shadow should have his chance,” the trainer said. “He's a great horse. You believe it, too.”

“Did you think I would condone murder and kidnapping?” she asked. “Did you know so little of me?”

Trapp's head bowed.

Ben watched as another thought struck her, and the horror on her face grew. “Jamie?” she whispered. “Not Jamie? It
was
an accident …” Her voice faded as she saw the truth on his face.

“He was going to sell the horses,” Trapp said defensively. “He asked me to find buyers. Even for Shadow. The Marquess gave him to
you.
And he was bedding Lady Barbara,” he said with mean satisfaction.

Ben knew that if Lisbeth's face could have gone whiter, it would have. She swayed for a moment as if the revelation was the last blow she could withstand. He moved to her side, putting his hands around her waist, steadying her.

“Bastard,” he said to Trapp. Then, softly, to Lisbeth, he added, “Don't believe anything he says.”

She leaned against him as if her legs would no longer hold her. Her hands were clenched together in fists. His arms tightened around her, rocking her for a moment as he would Sarah Ann. After a moment, he felt her stiffen, and she broke away from him to walk to Sarah Ann and kneel down next to her.

“We'd best take her home,” she said, tears glimmering in her eyes.

Ben's throat tightened. She had such gallantry and dignity, it made him hurt. From what she and Drew had both said, she'd had a joyless childhood, and yet she'd never lost her ability to trust, as he had. And now that instinctive tendency to trust was being challenged, and he saw her struggling with it.

“What are you going to do with him?” she asked.

Drew answered. “Take him back to Glasgow to face charges.”

She nodded.

“Get him out of here,” Ben said to Drew, “before I kill him.”

“I need something to tie him with.”

Lisbeth leaned down and tore a piece of cloth from Sarah Ann's petticoat. Silently, she handed it to Drew, who quickly tied Trapp's hands in front of him.

“I'll take him back to Glasgow now. I'll stop at my friend's for the night. They have a cellar room for Trapp here. You go back to Calholm and take care of the princess.” He grinned. “You fight well for a solicitor.”

Ben grinned. “You think like a lawman.”

When Drew and Trapp were both mounted and he had the lead line from Trapp's horse in his hand, Drew said, “I'll see you in a day or two.”

Ben nodded. “My thanks.”

“A pleasure,” Drew said. He turned to Lisbeth. “My lady,” he said softly, “don't blame yourself for this. He had everyone fooled. And you saved all three of our lives by arriving as you did. I, for one, will be forever grateful.” With that, he turned the horses and started back toward Glasgow.

“Make that two more grateful people,” Ben added. “Now why don't you hand Sarah Ann to me, and let's get out of here.”

As Lisbeth picked up the sleeping child, Sarah Ann's eyelids fluttered and she moaned softly. Ben took her in his arms, and she wriggled.

“Sugarplum?” he said softly.

Her eyes opened fully, and he could see them try to fasten on him and fail. “Papa?”

“Yes.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “And Lady Lisbeth is here, too.”

“I had bad dreams.”

“We'll just have to kiss them away.”

She snuggled up against him. “I dreamed you left me.”

“I'll never leave you, Sugarplum. I promise.” And he meant it. He couldn't imagine how he'd ever thought he might be able to leave her in Scotland, even if he had been assured she would have a loving family. She was as much a part of him as if she'd been his own child. She
was
his own child. The child of his heart.

“Want to go home,” she demanded.

“Annabelle and Henry are anxious to see you,” he said.

“And Peppermint,” Lisbeth added quietly. There was no spirit to her voice, only an attempt to soothe.

Ben looked at her quickly, a question in his eyes.

“Callum said he found the pony this morning,” she explained. “He's back in the stable.”

“Pep'mint,” Sarah Ann whispered. She smiled sleepily at Lisbeth. “I love you, Papa. And Lady Lisbeth … and An'belle and …” Her eyes closed again.

Ben's heart was caught in a vise so tight he could barely breathe. He had come too close to losing her to get over the fright as quickly as she probably would. He imagined he might be in for some nightmares of his own. “Let's get her back to Calholm,” he said.

It was late when they reached Calholm. Servants and guests alike, along with tenants who had aided in the search, surrounded the riders. Duncan reached Ben first and lifted his hands up for Sarah Ann, cradling her carefully in his arms, a tear running down his wrinkled face.

Barbara was there, too, and she smiled happily. Even Hugh's petulant mouth broke into a grin at seeing Sarah Ann.

But everyone quieted when Ben described what had happened and told them all that Callum Trapp and the groom, Baxter, had admitted to the kidnapping. He used few words, his delivery as concise and unemotional as a brief report in the newspaper. Lisbeth was astounded by his control. Questions came, but he ignored them, taking Sarah Ann from Duncan's arms and moving quickly into the manor and up the stairs to Sarah Ann's room.

Lisbeth dismounted slowly, and stammered out a few answers to questions, but then she simply couldn't say another word. Callum had been her friend for years, sometimes, it had seemed, her only friend. No matter what anyone said about Callum doing everything for himself, she knew the truth.

He had done it for her, too. And that made her as guilty as he.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Ben didn't leave Sarah Ann's side throughout the night, nor the next day. By the second day after their return from Glasgow, she was almost back to normal. He'd explained away the missing days by saying she'd had a fever and medicine.

She went riding on Peppermint, asking for Callum and being told only that he had resigned and gone to Glasgow. She remembered little of the time during which she'd been drugged. Still, the nightmares had returned.

While she was recovering, Ben wasn't able to think of much other than Sarah Ann, and he'd been hesitant to leave her with anyone. He knew he had to discard that all-encompassing fear for her; he couldn't stay with her every hour for the rest of his life. Though at the moment, he wanted to.

Everyone paid special attention to Sarah Ann. Barbara had brought her a small engraved locket. It had, Barbara said, once belonged to Sarah Ann's grandmother; Barbara's husband, Hamish, had given it to her. Ben had been stunned at the gesture, at the genuineness of it. There was no guile in her voice, no hint of flirtation, only concern.

Hugh also stopped in and even tried a poor joke. He was awkward around children, although Ben recognized that he was trying in a bumbling way to apologize for his curtness of the past weeks.

Sarah Ann took it all in stride, giggling at Hugh's poor attempt at humor and expressing pleasure at Barbara's gift. Ben felt immense pride … and amazement at the recuperative powers the child seemed to posses. Now, if only her nightmares would end.

Lisbeth stopped in each day, too, though she was extraordinarily reserved, her eyes clouded by demons Ben recognized from his own past. He tried to put her at ease, but she wouldn't let him. She was like a block of ice, her body and face stiff, her words guarded. He read the guilt in her eyes, wanted to take her in his arms, and tell her none of it had been her fault, but he had no opportunity. Sarah Ann and often others were always with them.