With no time to waste, Arabella found her sisters and managed to gain their approval of the plan. Although reluctant to let her go alone, Roslyn and Lily clearly understood the need for discretion and agreed to remain behind and support the pretense they’d concocted.
Next, Arabella quickly drove the gig to the Freemantle estate. She hoped to leave as soon as she could borrow Winifred’s coach and footmen, but she hadn’t counted on her friend balking.
After listening to Arabella’s request, Winifred shook her head adamantly. “ ’Tis a demmed fool thing even to consider, my dear, you chasing after them alone. You need to let Danvers handle the matter.”
“He is not here to handle it, Winifred,” Arabella said, taken aback by her refusal. “He is in London.”
“Then you should wait for his return.”
Arabella tried to quell her impatience. “I cannot wait. Sybil is in my charge, Winifred. I am responsible for her well-being. She could be in real danger.”
“And you could be putting yourself in danger if you follow her. You should rely on Danvers to help you. He is your guardian, after all.”
“Not for long. By next week, he will be obliged to grant my sisters and me emancipation from his guardianship. But that is entirely beside the point.”
Winifred gave her a stern look. “You cannot go gallivanting off across England all alone without protection, Arabella.”
“I will have your coachman and footmen to protect me.”
“Lord Danvers would do better than a score of servants.”
Doubtless he would, Arabella silently agreed. She desperately wished Marcus were here to help her. On the other hand, she had no desire to be cooped up in a closed carriage with him for who knew how long, since it would prove a severe test of her willpower.
Regardless of her own wishes or reservations, however, she didn’t dare delay.
“I don’t intend to stand here arguing, Winifred. If you won’t help me, I will hire a carriage at the posting inn.”
Impatiently, Arabella turned on her heel, but was stopped by Winifred’s protest. “Oh, very well, you may have my coach and servants. But if you wind up getting in over your head, my dear, you cannot say I didn’t warn you.”
“I won’t,” Arabella promised.
A quarter hour later, she sank back against the velvet squabs as Lady Freemantle’s coachman whipped up the team of horses. Five strapping grooms and footmen served as postilions and outriders, allowing Arabella to breathe a sigh of relief as she finally set out in pursuit of the eloping couple.
What Sybil had done was deplorable, Arabella reflected, but despite her anger and dismay at her errant pupil, she could sympathize to some extent.
After all, the girl was not so different from herself, unable to resist a seductive suitor.
Her relief lasted only a few hours. The coach made good time at first, heading directly for the nearby town of Hammersmith, where five main roads converged, and reaching north London and the main road to Scotland before dark. After that, however, they faced numerous delays, since they paused at each posting house to inquire after the fleeing Sybil and her scoundrel of a suitor.
To protect the chit’s reputation as well as her own, Arabella fabricated a tale about Sybil being her cousin, claiming they were making an urgent journey home since Sybil’s mother was gravely ill. Regrettably, though, none of the ostlers or innkeepers remembered seeing a raven-haired young lady, with or without her maid or gentleman escort.
When night fell, Arabella’s coachman had to slow the pace considerably, for the moonlight was greatly diminished by thick black clouds scudding across the sky. Then when they stopped briefly at a posting inn to change teams, other travelers warned that a fierce storm was brewing up ahead, directly in their path.
The warning proved all too true. The roiling clouds quickly turned ominous and soon gusts of wind began buffeting the coach, rocking Arabella inside. She could smell the heavy scent of rain in the air long before she heard the first drops strike the rooftop.
The thunderstorm hit full force a half hour later, lashing them with a blinding rain punctuated by frequent bursts of lightning and rolling cracks of thunder.
The danger grew even worse when the coach wheels started to slide precariously. The road had turned treacherous with mud, and Arabella found herself clutching the strap just to keep from being thrown off the seat each time the coach lurched over a rut.
Tension filled her and didn’t ease when she felt the vehicle slow to a halt a few moments later.
When the coachman drew back the small driver’s panel to speak to her, he had to shout to be heard over the pounding rain. “ ’Tis no use, Miss Loring! We ’ave to take shelter till the storm passes.”
Arabella nodded grimly, knowing they had no choice but to call a halt to the search tonight. Even if they avoided being struck by lightning, they risked serious accident and even injury from losing a wheel or turning over in a ditch.
“Can we make it to the next inn and put up for the night?” she shouted back over the din.
“Aye, there’s the Duck and Bill up ahead a mile or two. But I canna keep the team calm much longer.”