Page 93 of The Soldier
“Two shots,” Val said, “spaced well apart. You’ve got a good half-dozen horses that can be saddled, and men set to searching. Shall I get that under way?”
St. Just shook his head. “Not yet. With the leaf carpet still thick in the woods, tracking her will be difficult enough without a half-dozen horses tromping all sign underfoot. Let’s see what Emmie and I find first, but one shot will mean organize the search party. Acknowledge that with return fire, as well.”
“Got it,” Val said, leaning in to kiss Emmie. “We’ll find her, Em. The entire house is praying for her safety, and she does have the dog.”
“Right. Sir Scout. Thank God for that.”
“Baron Scout,” St. Just corrected her, pulling her toward the back hall with one hand, lantern in the other. “But after this, I’ll give the damned dog my bloody earldom if he can keep that child safe. Bundle up. It’s colder than hell out, and I suspect it could start snowing at any moment.”
“Not snow,” Emmie murmured, donning the second of two cloaks, gloves, and a scarf that covered her ears as well as her mouth.
“We’ll find her,” St. Just said as they struck out across the backyard, “and when we do, we’ll take turns hugging her and spanking her.”
Emmie said nothing, though they both knew if Winnie drowned, she’d require laying out, not spanking.
“We’ll find her,” St. Just said again. “You pray, we’ll keep walking, and she’ll turn up, Em.”
St. Just moved cautiously, for the ground was littered with wet rocks now sporting a coat of ice and wet leaves, ready to trip the unwary. Soon enough, they were staring at the patch of blackness that was the pond, once a place of such sunny pleasures, full of memories for both of them, now more ominous than a graveyard.
“She’s not here,” Emmie said miserably, “unless she’s in there.” She nodded toward the fathomless darkness of the water.
***
Winnie’s teeth were chattering, her fingers and toes were numb, and she’d long since eaten the stale rolls and butter she’d pilfered for her and Scout. Scout’s usual cheerfully bewildered expression had turned to Winnie gently reproachful, and Herodotus looked downright disdainful as he munched his hay in complete indifference to his guests.
“You almost gave us away,” Winnie huffed at the mule. It had been a near thing when Rosecroft had come bustling into the little stable. Winnie had barely pulled Scout out the back door before the earl had led Caesar to the spare stall. Caesar had known there was somebody behind the barn, but it was Herodotus who’d craned his runty neck over the door and practically pointed the way Winnie and Scout had gone.
“At least you kept quiet.” Winnie patted Scout, who was wonderfully warm though not the most pleasingly fragrant source of heat. “But, Scout, what are we going todo? I ran away as long as I’ve run away since forever, and Miss Emmie still left Rosecroft.”
The good baron reserved comment, but his ears pricked up, alerting Winnie to voices coming across the backyard. She put a cautionary hand over Scout’s nose—his cold, slimy, wet nose—and strained her ears to hear.
“We’ll find her,” St. Just growled, but the rest of his words were swallowed by the cold, dark night as they headed into the woods.
“Well, good,” Winnie whispered to her dog. “They should be looking for me. Maybe we’ll move to Surrey and live with Rose and Lord Amery. He would talk some sense into Miss Emmie, and maybe even Rosecroft.”
But for now, it was too cold to think of launching that great adventure. Winnie was hungry, cold, thirsty, and she had to pee something fierce but was loathe to expose enough of herself to the cold air to get that job done.
“Come on, Scout.” She crept out of the stables. “They won’t think to look right where they’ve just left, and by morning, the whole parish will know what a nodcock Miss Emmie is. Vicar won’t marry her if she insists on staying with us, and that’s exactly what she should do if she doesn’t want to spend more nights stomping around with Rosecroft in the woods.”
Brave words, but they did not seem to impress the fragrant baron. Winnie let them into the house through the back door, stealing into the warm kitchen with a real sense of relief. It had been getting too cold out—much too cold.
“Come on, Scout.” Winnie motioned to the dog. “There’s a fire in the parlor, too.” She rummaged in the kitchen, which had been well provisioned in anticipation of Emmie’s return, and buttered more rolls, fresh ones this time. Scout chomped his out of existence in two bites, but Winnie had to wash hers down with cold milk.
Within minutes, Winnie was fast asleep, her faithful hound steaming contentedly before the hearth, her dreams sweet.
***
“She was here.” St. Just knelt in the leaves and bracken and mud, and held the lantern close to the ground. He carefully, step-by-step, examined the entire perimeter of the pond then rose. “She might have fallen in from that rock.” He pointed at the place Emmie had knelt to wash her hair months ago. “But other than that, there’s no place on the bank that looks like she might have slipped in. The tracks head off in that direction.” He gestured toward Emmie’s yard. “But I lose the trail in the leaves.”
“So what next?” Emmie stared at the water as if she expected answers from it.
“We fire one shot off that horse pistol,” St. Just said, taking her hand and tugging her in the direction of the cottage. “If you have some food, I could use something in the way of tucker, but it looks like it will be a long, cold night.”
When they reached the cozy warmth of the kitchen, Emmie tried to unfasten the ties of her cloaks, but when he saw her hands were too clumsy with cold, St. Just pushed her fingers aside and did it himself, leaving the cloaks draped around her shoulders. He then pulled off her gloves and chafed her hands between his.
“How can you possibly be so warm?” Emmie asked, submitting to his tending without protest.
“Sheer size is part of it. I’m like those draft horses, with enough meat and muscle the cold doesn’t slow me down as badly, at least for a time. Tell me where that pistol of yours is, and I’ll get Val busy with the search team.”
