“Perhaps so,” Roslyn said pointedly, “but Lily will have to make her own decisions about marriage without any outside interference, no matter how well intentioned.”
At that arch reference to her matchmaking efforts, Winifred looked a trifle guilty. “I just want you both to be happy.”
“I know, Winifred, but you must allow us to be responsible for our own happiness…”
Her words trailed off when she became aware that the carriage had begun to slow. Moments later she heard a shout from outside.
“Hold there, I say!”
“What the devil?” Winifred muttered.
Just as puzzled, Roslyn peered out the window. There was enough light from the carriage lamps to make out the mounted horseman by the side of the road. Her heart started thudding in alarm when she realized the rider was masked and armed with a pistol.
“Stand and deliver!” he commanded, waving his weapon at the coachman.
The two ladies looked at each other in shock and dismay as the barouche lurched to a shuddering halt.
“I believe we are being held up,” Roslyn murmured.
“And me wearing all my best jewels,” Winifred said worriedly.
When the highwayman shifted his aim toward the rear of the coach, Roslyn knew he was addressing the footman perched up behind the boot.
r /> “You there, fellow, climb down and open the door!”
The servant must have jumped down from his perch since shortly the door swung open. Through the opening, she could see their assailant more clearly as he sat upon his bay horse. He was ginger-haired and wore a dark coat, but despite his smallish build, the pistol in his hand looked large and deadly.
The footman obviously thought so, too, for after letting down the step, he raised his hands high and sidled away from the door, keeping a wary eye on the weapon.
“Now come out, your ladyship,” the brigand called.
He was ordering them out of the carriage, yet Winifred seemed disinclined to obey. “I will not!” she exclaimed mutinously.
“You will, or I’ll shoot your man here.”
The highwayman’s voice was surprisingly unsteady but determined enough to suggest he would carry out his threat if thwarted.
“We should do as he says, Winifred,” Roslyn said, not wanting to risk the servant’s life.
Gathering her courage, she stepped down first, then assisted Winifred. As she turned to face the highwayman, Roslyn drew her cloak a bit tighter around her silk-clad shoulders. The June night was warm enough, yet she couldn’t help shivering at the danger they faced.
“What do you want, sir?” she asked, trying to keep her own voice calm.
“What do you think I want? Your money and your jewels.”
Her reticule was looped around her wrist, but it was empty except for a bit of pin money. And she had no jewels other than a lovely pearl necklace and earrings given to her by Marcus. Winifred, however, was practically dripping in diamonds.
The highwayman seemed to know it, for he only had eyes for Winifred.
“Hand over your jewels, Lady Freemantle,” he demanded, brandishing his pistol.
He sounded rather nervous, or at least he didn’t seem to be enjoying his villain’s role. Roslyn wondered vaguely if this was his first foray into crime. Regardless, she thought it wiser not to argue.
When she reached up to remove her pearl necklace, though, the thief shook his head. “Not you, Miss. Her ladyship’s is all I want.”
Scowling, Winifred fumbled with the clasp of her diamond necklace, but the fellow again shook his head. “Give me the brooch first.”
“What brooch?”