The Scent of Jasmine (Edilean 4)
“Will people be chasing him?” Cay asked as she began to understand what she was volunteering to do.
“I’ve been planning this for the many weeks he’s been in jail,” T.C. said, “and I think I have every possibility covered. There will be three sets of men escaping, and only you will know where to meet the correct one.”
“This must have cost you a lot,” Hope said.
T.C. waved his hand in dismissal. This rescue had cost him everything he owned, but he wasn’t going to tell them that.
“When should I leave?” Cay asked, swallowing as she thought of the coming night.
“About twenty minutes ago.”
“He doesn’t want to give you time to think about this,” Hope said.
“My maid—”
“I’ll keep her busy,” Hope said. “She’ll not even notice that you’ve escaped her.”
“I . . . I, uh . . .” Cay stuttered.
“Go!” T.C. said. “Don’t think any more, just go! Keep covered, let no one see your face, not even Alex, then ride to the ball. Leave your horse at the back of the ballroom, so there’ll be no talk about how you arrived. Hope will take care of that.”
Cay looked at Hope, who gave her a curt nod. “All right, then, I guess I’ll leave. I don’t know how I’m going to ride in this dress, but—”
“The cloak will cover every inch of you,” T.C. said, his eyes pleading with her to take no more time in discussion. “Tomorrow we’ll have chocolate for breakfast and laugh about all this.”
“Promise?” Cay said, smiling.
“I swear it.”
After hesitating long enough to give him another smile, she grabbed her skirt and ran down the stairs. Her heart was racing, but she knew this was something that needed to be done. Tonight she was going to save a man’s life. That he may or may not be a murderer was not something she wanted to worry about. No, it was better to just do the job, and think about what she’d done later.
Two
Cay sat on her horse in the dark and wished she were in Virginia with her family. It was autumn, so it would be cooler there. Would they have a fire blazing in the parlor? Would her brothers be home or would they be out doing . . . whatever it was that boys did all the time? Ethan had been seeing one of the Woodlock girls, but Cay didn’t think much would come of it. The girl wasn’t pretty enough or smart enough for Ethan.
When her mare began to prance about, Cay shifted in her saddle and calmed it down. Hidden in the trees behind her was the heavily laden horse that Alexander McDowell was to take with him when he finally arrived with the men who’d broken him out of jail.
She looked around but could see little in the night sky. It had been difficult finding the place where her uncle told her she was to meet Mac’s son, which was the only way Cay could think of him. He was the son of the man who’d helped her father, and that was her reason for being there. If she didn’t concentrate on that, she knew she’d start looking about the dark countryside and thinking about how she was to meet a man who had probably committed murder.
Hope had gone downstairs with Cay, helped her cover her gown with the big wool cloak, and given her the map T.C. had drawn that showed where Cay was to go.
“It’s not too late to say no,” Hope said as she fastened the hood around Cay’s head.
Cay put on the bravest face she could manage. “I’m sure I’ll be all right. Besides, I doubt if this man is actually a murderer.”
Hope lowered her voice. “You didn’t read the newspaper accounts. The doctor and the judge found her locked inside the room with him, and he was sound asleep. He had no conscience about what he’d done. He is pure evil.”
Cay swallowed. “What did he have to say about it all?”
“That he’d had a glass of wine then fallen asleep.”
“Maybe he was telling the truth.”
“You are so very young,” Hope said in a patronizing way. “No man falls asleep on his wedding night.”
“But maybe—” Cay tried to say, but Hope interrupted her.
“The sooner you go, the quicker you can get back. I’ll be waiting for you at the ball. I won’t be dressed as richly as you are, but I’ll have on my rose-colored silk, so look for me at the back.” Hope put her hands on Cay’s shoulde