CHAPTER 19

That sunny and pleasantly cool afternoon, the gala event at River’s End unfolded beautifully and without a hitch. Attired in a new gown of gray silk with lace trim and a modest hoop skirt … with a generous waistline … Victoria stood with Spencer in the shade of her favorite big oak, a tree she’d spent many a happy hour in her childhood playing under or climbing on—sometimes, to her mother’s horror, all the way to the top. In one hand, Victoria held a plate of the best barbecue River’s End had to offer. But it was possible only to pick at the food as she needed a free hand to offer in greeting to the staggering number of their well-wishers—all while also conducting a whispered argument with her husband, who was just then holding forth in a hissing whisper.

“We were lucky that our little outing into the swamp this morning went undetected, Victoria. We are also lucky to have made it out alive, given the reptilian terrors lurking about, and even with Jubal’s help. So I see no reason to tempt fate again today by having my wife—forgive my indelicacy, but my pregnant wife—become a pawn in a madman’s game.”

“Do you think I wish to be a pawn? I was not given a choice, Spencer.”

“I understand that. But I will go in your stead.”

“No you will not. You don’t know the city like I do, where he lives or—”

“You will draw me a map, and I will go myself.”

“Draw you a map? And how would I explain that to these hundred or so people here?”

“I did not say you must gather a crowd around you and make an announcement of our intentions. We could retire to some discreet place for such an activity. But, really, Victoria, as a duchess, you must get past this need to explain yourself to people. You command, and they accept and obey.”

“Not here, Spencer. These people have known me all my life. They’re not about to let me get away with sticking my nose in the air now.”

“Be that as it may, you are a duchess, and they will treat you accordingly, or they will answer to me.”

Though she secretly adored her husband for his stance regarding her, Victoria still felt on the verge of screaming her frustration with this arrogant peer of a man. If she had any gumption at all, she told herself, she would politely ask him to hold her plate while she shook the fool out of him. She knew, however, that all she would succeed in doing, given the difference in their sizes, would be to rattle her own eyeballs and teeth. “I swear to you, Spencer, you are the most maddening man I ever—”

“I am maddening, madam? I am?”

“Yes, you are. I promise you I do not know how much longer I can stand here. I want to toss this plate aside and run for the house and change my clothes and get on a horse—”

“The madness continues.” Spencer sounded so long-suffering. “Get on a horse, Victoria? You? In your condition? No. Out of the question, madam.”

When he called her “madam,” Victoria knew, his mind was closed. “I have been riding since I got here, Spencer.”

“You what?” He was no longer whispering. “I haven’t seen you ride—”

“Shh. Lower your voice. People will think we’re having a disagreement.”

“We are having a disagreement, Victoria.”

“We are not. Spencer, for heaven’s sake, be careful with your plate. And you, sir, have not seen me ride because you’ve been here only a week, during which time my every free moment has been spent nursing you.”

“Only because you or others insist on bashing me over the head with heavy objects. And also because your dog attacked me.”

She ignored that. It wasn’t really relevant right now. “Before you arrived, I had gone out riding with my father and brother. It’s one of my favorite pastimes, so I could hardly tell them no when they asked me to go, now could I?”

“You risked your health and our child by riding a horse—a creature that could throw you and injure you?”

Offended, Victoria stood taller. “Our horses don’t throw people. They’re very well behaved. Besides, Miss Cicely said it wouldn’t hurt the baby.”

Spencer stared at her. “Well, then, there’s the final authority for us.”

“Don’t you dare say anything about her, Spencer. She’ll know if you do. You, of all people, after this morning, ought to be aware of her gifts. If she says I won’t lose it, I won’t lose it. And furthermore, I don’t wish to speak with you anymore right now.”

“Fine by me,” Spencer griped, stabbing his fork into a hunk of shredded pork and poking it into his mouth. As he chewed—Victoria saw the angry flexing of his jaw—he stared off over the grounds and ignored her.

It was just as well. Angry beyond belief herself, Victoria somehow still managed to smile radiantly and nod her head politely as various aunts, uncles, cousins, her friends and her parents’ friends—all well-heeled guests from among Savannah society’s elite ranks—strolled by and sent further congratulations her and Spencer’s way. All he did was glare and chew.

Earlier, her father had offered the formal toasts and announcements—as much as daring anyone present to have an ill word to say about his daughter or the scandal that had sent her across an ocean. Certainly, she had returned in triumph, the wife of a duke and a mother-to-be. She and Spencer had decided not to tell anyone yet the sex of the baby. How would they explain how they knew that? At any rate, Victoria was once again accepted into the circle of family and friends—although one part of her still wanted to tell everyone present that she hadn’t given one whit for what they’d thought of her before. But that sentiment, she knew, was a sleeping dog best left undisturbed.

And so the afternoon had worn on until now. While the guests relaxed and visited and ate, they strolled the grounds and renewed friendships or just chatted and gossiped. All around, exuberant children ran to and fro, their happy, or unhappy, shrieks punctuating the adult conversations.

“Perhaps I spoke hastily,” Spencer blurted into the angry silence between him and Victoria. “I have the utmost respect for Miss Cicely’s abilities”—he said this loudly, as if he believed his conciliatory words would carry on the air all the way to Miss Cicely, who would then not curse him—“and I can readily see that you are in excellent health, Victoria. But, call me a fool for wishing to keep you thus. Along those lines—Oh, hello, there,” Spencer said through the gritted teeth of his smile as he bowed to an elderly, cherubic, white-haired Southern matriarch who set about regaling him with her dislike of the British, all while offering her congratulations on his and Victoria’s marriage and their coming happy event.

As she was hustled away by her embarrassed daughter, the woman’s parting shot was what a handful Victoria had always been for her parents. Spencer agreed heartily with her and turned to Victoria, who, incensed, watched the old horse leave. “My point, Victoria, is we are the guests of honor and the focus of unrelenting attention. Given that, how the devil are we going to get away without our absence being noticed?”

A sharp hopeful feeling had Victoria looking at her husband. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I know you well enough to know there is no way I can stop you. The best I can hope to do is arm myself, choose a faster horse, and get there before you.”

He was going to help her. Relieved, Victoria smiled broadly. “You cannot arrive ahead of me, faster horse or no. You don’t know where you’re going.”

Spencer smiled into her eyes, showing her quite plainly the angry lights still remained there. “Dammit it all to hell, Victoria, you will tell me—”

“Oh, my word, there they are! I’ve been looking for them.”

Obviously confused by her quick—and intentional—change of subject, Spencer looked around. “For whom? Where?”

“Mr. and Mrs. John Howell. His wife, Gwen, is my cousin. They are such wonderful people. Very prominent and gracious. I want you to meet them. They’re over there on those benches with my great-aunt, Mrs. Helen Clifton—an absolute dear of a woman who could run the world, given one second’s head start. Oh, and there’s her brother, Mr. Bailey Carpenter, with her. You see him—that sweet-faced little gentleman with the white hair. Why, you’d think he was the mayor, so many people know and love him. I’ll just go get them.”

Spencer gripped her elbow and pulled her back to him. “No you won’t, Victoria. Don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to. The moment you’re not at my side, you’d be gone to Savannah without me in half a flash. Don’t play the innocent. You know, as well as I do, that I met the Howells and your great-aunt and -uncle earlier, just after your father’s grand announcement. They came through what I believe was a receiving line as you and I and Edward stood next to your parents and brother.”

Darn him. He’d learned her all too well and all too fast. “Oh, that’s right,” she said in her best self-effacing Southern-belle style. “Well, they’re certainly worth a second conversation. And will you just look at all this, Spencer? I mean this gathering. It’s perfect. My mother and father have outdone themselves.” She cast her satisfied gaze over the assemblage. “Why, all of Savannah is here. Well, anyone who matters is, I mean to say.”

“Yes, lovely. Victoria, look at me. What are you thinking?”

She dropped her pose and turned to her husband. Determination rushed her pulse. “I think we should go now. With all of Savannah out here today, they can’t get in our way. And even better, this means he is alone in Savannah and will have nowhere to hide.”

“If he’s even in Savannah.”

“Oh, he is, all right. Miss Cicely said he was. And I cannot help it; I want to go kill him, Spencer. I had no idea he was behind all this. None.”

“I share your sentiment, my dear, regarding killing that son of a— Oh, how do you do? So nice to make your acquaintance. Red spots? Mine? Whatever do you mean? Oh, exactly—the Earl of Roxley told you of my infirmity. All cleared up now, thankfully. Some plant I brushed against, I suspect. You’re very kind to inquire. Yes, we are quite happy with our news. We appreciate your stopping by.” The moment the young couple was out of earshot, he turned to Victoria and took up where he’d left off. “If anyone should be riding to Savannah to confront this villain, it should be your brother—”

“But he can’t, Spencer. He’d be shot on sight.”

“What makes you think we won’t be?”

“Because he doesn’t know we know, or that we’re even coming. So we have the element of surprise on our side.”

“I disagree. He will know, the moment he sees us, that we know. Why else, on this day of all days, would we be in Savannah?”

“And that is exactly why Jeff can’t go. I’d think you’d know that. You’re the one who took him aside this morning and told him what had happened and that we knew and that he should go out to Miss Cicely’s. He didn’t deny anything, either— Why, Darlene Carpenter, it’s been ages since I set eyes on you. Look at you! More beautiful than ever. Spencer, this is my cousin on my mother’s side. You met her earlier. Oh, thank you, Darlene. We could not be more happy. Spencer’s leg? No, it wasn’t broken, only bruised. The Earl of Roxley spoke hastily that day. What? You’re looking for Aunt Pauline? Why, I don’t know. I think she’s over there with Mama. Oh, yes, I see her now. Over there.”

Alone again with her husband—as alone as anyone could be in the crush of people strolling by or standing nearby and chatting and laughing loudly—Victoria turned pleading eyes Spencer’s way. “You heard what Miss Cicely said. We have to act now. He knows his game is up, but we can’t just wait until he does something else. We have to act first. I, for one, am sick and tired of all this suspense and worrying. Every day, I fear there’ll be another note on my pillow, or someone will take a shot at one of us. I just can’t live with it anymore, Spencer. I want this resolved, I want my family safe, and I want to go home with you. I don’t think that’s asking a lot.”

Spencer said nothing. He simply stared down at her. The warm and shining intensity radiating from his black eyes startled Victoria but in a pleasant way. “That was quite the noble speech, my dear,” he finally said. “I find I am moved by it and your bravery. You are quite the most heroic—and foolhardy—woman I have ever met, and I will strive to be worthy of you in both regards. But I also find, my sweet wife, that if … something happened to you, it would be an ending I could not bear.”

“Oh, Spencer. I couldn’t bear it if it were you, either. I couldn’t.” Her heart melting with love for this man at her side, she set her plate on the bench behind her and hugged his arm impulsively, going so far as to rest her forehead against the muscled hardness of his biceps. The solidness of him, his very warmth, comforted her in ways she could not begin to describe. “What am I going to do, Spencer? Help me.”

In the next moment, Spencer followed Victoria’s example and set his plate down on the same bench. He then held her by her arms and stared down into her eyes. “Do you realize, Victoria, that is the first time you have ever asked me for my help? That is what I’ve been waiting for.”

A bit taken aback, she cocked her head. “It is?”

Spencer chuckled. “Yes, it is—a declaration that you need me. Dare I hope, after holding me at arm’s length all this while, you trust me now?”

“I have always trusted you, Spencer. I was afraid of you, yes, and feared you would keep me from doing what I had to do—I mean when I left England—but I always trusted you. At least, on other levels. You’re a man of integrity, I know that. You have noble sensibilities. And you’re very honorable—”

“Thank you for a wonderful litany of my virtues.” His bright grin slowly faded. “But I am so sorry you were afraid of me. Edward says I can be a pompous ass, and he’s right.”

“But you had every right to be, Spencer. We were doing well … I mean you and I, at least reasonably well … until I had to tell you my ill-timed news. How else could you feel but angry and cautious?”

“You’re very forgiving. And I am eternally grateful. But I cannot forgive myself for not considering, even once, what you must have been feeling that day or every day after. How scared and distraught you had to be. And how brave you were to tell me…” His voice trailed off; he looked up and away from her; exhaled; and then firmed his lips as if he’d come to some decision he wished to share with her. “Victoria, I just … I love you. And I never thought, in my whole life, that I would have anyone to whom I could say those words. But now I do … and it’s you. You are such a gift in my life, one I have no intention of losing.”

Victoria feared she was going to cry. She tried to raise a hand to her mouth, but with Spencer tenderly holding her arms, a chuckling sob escaped her first. He pulled her to his chest and held her in his embrace. Overcome, Victoria wrapped her arms around him and closed her eyes against the guests’ indulgent smiles or shocked whispers coming their way. “I love you, too,” she said. “Why are those the hardest words in the world to say?”

Spencer rested his chin atop her head. “I don’t know.” His voice vibrated in his chest and throughout her body. Victoria felt certain she’d never experienced anything this delicious or intimate … right here in broad daylight with all of Savannah looking on. Nothing could have been more inappropriate, but Victoria didn’t give a fig about her breach of etiquette. Only Spencer mattered.

“Perhaps,” he said into the cocoon of quiet that wrapped them softly in its folds, “they’ll get easier to say if we say them more often to each other.”

“I would like that … very much.” She could have stayed like this, locked in the safe haven of his arms, for the rest of her life. But hers could prove to be a very short life if she didn’t act soon. Today. Reluctant though she was to do so, Victoria pulled back and raised her gaze to her husband’s. “I’m going to go after him, Spencer. I have to.”

He stroked her arms and nodded. “I know.”

“Go with me.”

He chuckled. “I planned to do exactly that.”

It suddenly hit her: This was real. They were finally going to act. Today. A fearful excitement coursed through Victoria’s veins, making her shiver. “We’ll take Edward, if we can pry him loose from Lucinda Barrett. That would be three of us, Spencer. Three against one. And it will be easier to slip away than you think. For one thing, the stables are off a ways on the other side of the house. We’ll leave from there and travel a back road that doesn’t connect to the main route to Savannah until we’re off River’s End property.”

Looking amazed, Spencer said: “My, but you’ve thought this through, haven’t you?”

“Yes, I have.” She rushed on with no apology. “I’ll pretend to be suddenly taken ill. It’s expected with women who are in my condition. Everyone will sympathize. And you, playing the concerned and devoted husband, can carry me—”

“I daresay I am, in truth, a concerned and devoted husband—”

“Of course you are.” Patting his chest … his wonderfully broad and muscular chest, Victoria smiled at his bruised feelings. “I’m simply saying how it will appear to everyone if you carry me to my room and then stay with me.”

“It is our room, madam. But I see now what you mean. If you’re ill, no one will want to be present for that and will understand your need to rest.” Frowning, he pointed at Victoria. “But Edward. Explain to me how we will make off with him without raising suspicion.”

“He can make up his own tale. He’s wonderful at that, as you well know.”

“Yes, don’t I? I cannot count the number of people who have asked me about my red spots or my broken leg, which seems to be perfectly mended in only a matter of days. We need also to consider your mother. She will quite fuss if she thinks you ill. I doubt she’ll leave your side.”

“Maybe not at first. However, we can tell Jefferson what we’re doing.”

“We can. But he’ll want to come, given everything that has been done against him.”

Heartfelt sympathy for her brother coursed through Victoria. “And I wouldn’t blame him a bit. But we’ll tell him he can best serve his own interests by staying here—he’s already been missed once today—to reassure Mama. She adores him and will do whatever he says. But should Mama linger in our bedroom, you can always order her out.”

“Well, that should certainly solidify our relationship admirably, me ordering her out of her own house.”

“Don’t be silly. She’ll go willingly. Mama is only too happy being the hostess. With Jeff’s encouragement, she’ll return quickly to her scene of triumph, God love her. She’ll be so proud of my wonderful and titled husband who insists on tending me himself. She won’t miss the opportunity to tell all her friends, either, how the titled duke dotes on his wife, and isn’t it so sad that their daughters don’t have such wonderful husbands with titles.”

Spencer’s frown veed his brows done right over his nose. “Dear God, mothers can be brutal. Maybe we ought to just send yours to Savannah in our stead.”

“Spencer, even in a time of war, we did not allow General Sherman to level our fair city. We’re not about to allow Mama to do so now.”

“You make a good point.” Firming his lips together, obviously in thought, Spencer said: “On the whole, though, your plan might work.”

A bolt of excitement, shot through with fear for the danger they would face, raced through Victoria, propelling her even closer to her husband. She rested her palms on his coat’s lapels. “It will work. Rosanna will keep everyone out and won’t tell a soul if we slip away. She’s as good a guardian as is Neville.”

“That’s true. So is Hornsby. I could discreetly send him around to the stables to have three horses readied.” Spencer rubbed his chin and narrowed his eyes … clearly putting a plan together. Now that he agreed with her desire to act today, in good wifely form Victoria waited quietly and expectantly, allowing him to come up with the rest of the plan, which she would amend or veto if it didn’t meet with her approval, of course. “And Mr. Milton, surprisingly enough, is quite the attraction today. I could instruct him to divert anyone who proves curious. No doubt there will be—”

“Excuse me, Your Lordship and Your Ladyship, but can I take these here plates for you?”

Along with Spencer, who cursed softly, Victoria jerked her attention to the girl standing behind her and next to the thick tree trunk. Tillie. She executed a rough curtsy. How long had the stringy-haired girl been standing there? How much had she heard? She’d probably been standing just out of sight on the other side of the tree and eavesdropping … for all the good it would do her. Her freedom of movement would very soon be restricted.

“Yes, Tillie, take the plates,” Victoria said brusquely, not even pretending to be polite.

“Yes, ma’am. I’m just doin’ my job, is all.” With a sullen, sidelong glance her and Spencer’s way, the maid curtsied again, picked the plates up and quickly walked away.

“That damned girl was everywhere,” Spencer fussed. “Always in the way. I cannot tell you how many times I very nearly tripped over her.”

Victoria watched, along with Spencer, the maid hurrying over to a knot of people, one of whom was Jefferson. He’d returned from Miss Cicely’s just in time for the start of the barbecue and had explained his absence as having had to pay a quick call on a business acquaintance who hadn’t been available until now. Not exactly ingenious, but an excuse their harried father, in charge of the men barbecuing the meat and the others setting up tables, had accepted distractedly.

“You weren’t the only one tripping over her,” Victoria said. “Rosanna told me numerous times she found the girl in places she shouldn’t be and nosing around, but with no real reason for being there. I should have suspected her from the outset.”

“I don’t know how you could. We didn’t know until this morning that she’s been, in effect, a spy, recounting our every move to our villain.”

“Ooh, I’d like to just tie her up out in the swamp and leave her there, she makes me so angry.”

“Suitably gruesome, my dear. I suspect she’d have a quick conversion if we did. But never mind her. She can do no more harm now. We’ll have the law deal with her later.”

Victoria nodded her agreement, but her mind was racing with the details of the plan she meant to set into motion. The chips would simply have to fall where they may … on the innocent and guilty alike. As much as she hated knowing that, she also knew there was a greater good here to be served than her own feelings, or even those of her family. She must come to terms with that, as much as she hated being the one on whom this responsibility had been thrust. But there was no way out now. She’d come back to Georgia to do this. And now, it was time to act.

Though many emotions roiled inside her, all of them tempered with regret and resignation, Victoria smiled up at her husband. “Spencer, stand ready to catch me, sir. I intend to swoon.”

*   *   *

Grim, determined, and half scared out of her mind now that they had left River’s End behind them in a clean getaway, Victoria’s heart pounded with each beat of her horse’s galloping hooves over the sandy road that roughly paralleled the southeasterly flow of the Savannah River. She realized now that she would never have had the courage for the coming confrontation in the city that shared its name with the river if Spencer, mounted on her father’s favorite black gelding, hadn’t been by her side as he was now. He was armed, as was Edward, who rode on her other side and made a slender brown-haired figure atop a sturdy roan. Victoria, no fool herself, had her brother’s pistol tucked into the waistband of her britches, also Jefferson’s—and rode his big, rangy dapple-gray, as well.

Jefferson. Victoria firmed her lips as she recalled what had been revealed to her and Spencer this morning. She’d been so relieved to learn her brother was not a heartless villain. Neither was he weak-willed or uncaring. Or even callous. In truth, his coolness and seeming meanness toward her had been a sincere effort on his part to get her to leave River’s End and go back to England where she would be safe. What was more, had he succeeded in getting her to leave, his own life, and he knew this, would have been forfeit. Poor Jeff. A tale of greed and twisted love had held him paralyzed—and all in her name.

She knew now who had been lurking in the dark that night when she and Jeff met on the dock. And she knew why. The evil, monstrous man, to use Jeff so and to trade on his friendship and confidences as he had. How could anyone be so heartless? But what about her part in this? She’d been just as blind. Wracked now with guilt for her own silly innocence and crusading spirit, she condemned herself for thinking she could simply sail into town and play the heroine by rescuing them all with the strength of her will alone. How stupid. She had played unwittingly into the hands of the awful man she intended to confront today—and placed all their lives in greater danger.

Yes, all their lives. Even her mother’s and father’s lives. How horrible. And true. Should she and Spencer and Edward fail today, she and everyone she loved could conceivably then be killed in a violent spree the likes of which Savannah had never seen. But even should they succeed, the truth that her parents would have to learn of their son’s duplicity could very well kill their spirits and split her family apart. What Victoria had to face was there was no possibility of a clean win here. The most awful truth was it was all for love, too. She exhaled sharply, feeling suddenly depleted of strength … and maybe her will for this coming battle.

No. Immediately she steeled her spine, telling herself she must think of her loved ones and not herself—

“Wait! Hold up! Stop! Stop right here!”

Terrified, Victoria looked over at her husband. Already he was reining in and signaling her and Edward to do the same, which they did. Victoria’s excited horse sidestepped and whinnied and arched his neck. Spencer immediately grabbed its reins and held on, speaking softly, soothingly to the dapple-gray. Under other circumstances Victoria would have been highly indignant and told him to unhand her horse. In this instance, however, she wanted only to know one thing. “What is it, Spencer? What’s wrong?”

He looked at her but cocked his head as if listening for something. “You don’t hear that?”

“Hear what?” Edward asked before she could.

“That.” Releasing her reins, his brow lowered with obvious perturbation, Spencer twisted in his saddle until he peered toward the heavily forested and winding road behind them.

Victoria gave the road her attention, too, seeing nothing but the expected sight. Loblolly pines and oaks and overgrown tropical vegetation, their broad leaves dusted with dried mud from the roadway and slouching over the rutted pathway to hide every curve but the last one they’d just rounded. Victoria strained her attention and her hearing … and suddenly heard a bloodhound’s excited baying growing louder and louder. Relief swept through her, slumping her in her saddle. “You scared the life out of me, Spencer. That’s just Neville.”

“I am aware it is just Neville. And who is he bringing with him, do you suppose?”

“He could simply be out hunting.” Victoria noted her husband’s raised eyebrow that put the lie to her statement. “You’re right,” she conceded. “He’s not simply out hunting. He’s discovered I’m gone, and he’s coming to join us. But I don’t think he’s bringing anyone with him. For one thing, we’d hear their horses, which we don’t. And I hardly think anyone at River’s End today is likely to take after a baying hound who does his own hunting all the time anyway.”

Not looking the least bit convinced, Spencer pushed the narrow brim of his black-felt bowler hat up. “I hope you’re right, or we’re about to have company and no believable explanation to offer for our presence out here. Especially given Edward’s ridiculous story that he must repair to his bedroom for his daily hours of prayer and meditation.”

“Miss Lucinda Barrett is a devout Christian woman,” Edward said primly, “and I thought only to impress her with my devotion.”

“God save us all,” Spencer muttered before turning again to his wife. “And you and I, my dear wife, are supposed to be sequestered in our bedroom with you in a swoon brought on by your delicate condition. And yet, here we are, the three of us—armed, on the road to Savannah and with my wife garbed as a man.”

Victoria raised her chin a stubborn notch. “It is the same as with the jonboat, Spencer. I could hardly ride or be ready for whatever might happen next while dressed in a silk gown. And I’m telling you, Neville will be alone.” She hoped. “In fact, we should have thought to bring him along in the first place. With his tracking skills, he could be very useful to us today.”

“I am well aware of the tracking skills of bloodhounds, Victoria,” Spencer said right down the end of his aristocratic nose. “We have them in England, as well.”

“Not as good as Neville.”

“Every bit as good as Neville.”

Edward’s throat-clearing noise garnered for him Victoria’s and Spencer’s angry attention. He raised his hands, reins and all, as if he were being robbed. “That was not meant for attention. I had a tickle in my throat. Believe me, I have heard ‘Shut up, Edward’ enough in the past several days to last me a—”

“Shut up, Edward.” Spencer said it right along with Victoria. Sighing, Edward retreated back into his posture atop his horse and looked everywhere but at the bickering couple.

“Well, what do we do with the dog?” Spencer wanted to know, still sounding testy. “He won’t go home if sent, will he?” Victoria shook her head no. “And he can’t run all the way to Savannah”—Spencer’s brow furrowed, apparently with his next thought, which he voiced—“Can he?” Victoria shook her head no. “I thought not … even for a Southern bloodhound.”

That last comment he had muttered under his breath, but not quite far enough under his breath.

“I heard that,” Victoria sharply let him know.

“And here we go,” Edward said fatalistically, quickly adding, “Never mind. I am shutting up. But first, may I just say that we make one devil of a frightening posse, stopped in our tracks by the baying of one hound. No doubt, the mere sight of us will strike terror into the villain’s heart.”

Just then, and perhaps saving them all three from themselves and the others’ sharp retorts, Neville came bounding around the last bend in the road and into plain view. Though he ran like all the demons of hell were after him, he was blessedly alone. His long ears flapped in a breeze his galloping gait produced and his tongue hung out one side of his mouth. Victoria chuckled. “Hold a tight rein on your horses, gentlemen.”

“What?” they both asked. “Why?”

“This is why.” Tightening her grip on her own horse, Victoria stuck two fingers in her mouth and whistled a sharp, piercing blast that had Spencer’s horse rearing—and Spencer cursing; and Edward’s horse bucking furiously all over the roadway—and Edward screaming wildly. Victoria’s dapple-gray mount, an old hand at this trick of Jefferson and Victoria’s, had merely stiffened his knees and stood stock-still.

“Come here, boy!” Victoria cried out to Neville as she scooted off the back of the saddle cinched to her horse and hit her thigh encouragingly. “Up you go. You can do it.”

Neville stopped by the horse’s side and whined up at Victoria. She again signaled him to make the attempt. The dog bunched his muscles and, with a great leap, landed squarely in the middle of the saddle, nimbly keeping his feet under him. Holding on to him, steadying him, Victoria laughed out loud and Neville bayed his happiness. Spencer and Edward, though they were again in control of their mounts, were not amused.

Victoria innocently looked from one to the other of the men. “Jefferson taught him. We do this all the time.”

“Apparently.” Spencer’s complexion was suffused with the red of anger, yet the two little lines bracketing his mouth were white. “You cannot ride like that with that dog all the way to Savannah.”

Victoria scooted forward until she’d edged back into the saddle, which she now shared with Neville. The bloodhound hunkered down across her thighs, settling sideways to her. Victoria grinned at her husband. “Yes I can. I’ve done it before.”

When he didn’t return her grin and only continued to look grim, she added: “I can, and I will, Spencer—unless you wish to put him on your horse with you. If you don’t and I make him get down, he will attempt to run all the way to Savannah with us and it will be too much for him and his brave heart will burst and he will die. Are you prepared to live with me, should that happen to him because you chose to be hard-hearted and hard-headed, sir?”

An intense quiet followed her brisk laying out of the situation for her husband. Not too many sounds dared invade the silence between them. The occasional chirp of a bird. The twig-snapping sound of some small animal scurrying away through the underbrush fringing the roadside. From Victoria’s right, with Spencer being on her left, she heard what she believed were the muffled sounds of a laugh quickly covered by a cough.

At last, Spencer resettled his hat low on his brow and exhaled. Looking terribly serious and in charge, he said: “Let’s ride for Savannah.”

As he urged his mount into a gallop and shot ahead of his wife and his cousin, leaving only a dusty trail in his wake, Victoria exchanged a look and a grin with Edward, who shook his head and chuckled. “I bow to you, madam,” he said nobly. “In you, my cousin has met his match.”