“We could at least attempt to find him.”
“Her ladyship’s servants could search the countryside tonight, but it would be pointless. He’ll be long gone by now.”
“So we should simply do nothing?” Roslyn asked in frustration.
The duke’s eyes, cool and green, met hers. “A thorough search can be conducted in the morning. I wounded him, so there may be a blood trail to follow. But for now there is nothing to be gained by trying to chase after him.”
The duke directed his gaze toward Winifred’s coachman, who was still attempting to calm his jittery team. “You will take her ladyship home and see to her safety.”
“Aye, yer grace.”
Roslyn wanted to argue, yet she knew Arden was right. It was pointless to search for the wounded highwayman until morning.
“I would like to go home,” Winifred murmured in a weak voice.
She looked about to swoon, which alarmed Roslyn even more than the holdup had done. Her friend was one of the strongest women she knew and never succumbed to the vapors.
“You need to sit down, Winifred,” Roslyn urged, guiding her to the door of the barouche.
Arden helped her inside, then handed Roslyn up beside her.
He was about to step back to allow the footman to close the door when Winifred leaned forward to address him. “Please, will you accompany us, your grace?” she implored. “I would feel ever so much safer with your presence.” When he hesitated, Winifred patted her bosom with a fluttery motion. “Please…my heart is beating so hard, I think I might faint.”
Roslyn shot her friend a highly suspicious glance. Winifred had never before suffered heart palpitations either, and the possibility that she was feigning weakness in order to secure the duke’s time and attention was too strong to dismiss.
Arden, however, nodded in polite agreement, perhaps because he was too much of a gentleman to question her motives. “Let me direct my coachman to follow us.”
Roslyn was not overjoyed that the duke would be riding with them, for she’d expected to be rid of him by now. Yet she could hardly object when Winifred claimed to need his comforting presence to soothe her frayed nerves.
When he turned away, Winifred sagged back against the seat, fanning herself weakly. In the glow from the interior lamp, her complexion was as ruddy as ever. Her voice, too, was steadier when she said, “You were very brave, my dear. I am grateful that you tried to save my brooch, but it wasn’t worth your life. I am so thankful you weren’t shot-and that Arden was there to rescue us.”
“I am as well,” Roslyn murmured.
The duke returned just then and climbed in to sit opposite them. He was still armed, she saw as the barouche began moving.
“I always carry a brace of pistols when I travel,” he said, seeing the focus of her gaze.
“Thank heavens you did,” Winifred said. “You are a capital shot, your grace, and quite heroic. Was he not, Roslyn?”
“Yes, indeed,” she admitted reluctantly.
His mouth curved. “You managed to stay calm, I noticed, Miss Loring. Some young ladies would have given way to hysterics.”
“I am not the hysterical sort.”
And yet she was more unnerved by the holdup than she’d realized. They all could have been injured or worse. Roslyn felt herself shudder, remembering how the bandit had threatened to kill Winifred’s footman. No doubt she was suffering from a delayed reaction, but she was indeed grateful for the duke’s presence.
“Bloody coward,” Winifred muttered, “accosting two unarmed ladies.” She glanced at Arden. “I hope you will stay the night at Freemantle Park, your grace. We need you to protect us.”
“I had already decided as much.”
Ros
lyn shifted uneasily in her seat. “Surely it isn’t necessary to impose on his grace.”
His eyes held a gleam of amusement. “Are you so eager to be rid of me?”
She felt herself blush at his perceptiveness.