Page 54 of The Burning Passion of a Fiery Lady
Chapter 22
Susannah raced ahead, stumbling, crying out his name in panic.
“Jasper!” she cried. “Oh, can you hear me?”
She stopped, listening intently, but there was no reply. With trembling hands, she raised the lantern higher. It only shed a radius of light about two feet in front of her, and it was dimming by the second.
Suddenly, a figure loomed in front of her. She almost dropped the lantern, in shock.
“It is only me, Mrs Drake,” said a familiar male voice.
“David!” She felt her knees almost buckle beneath her, in relief. “I am so glad to see you! Have you … found him?”
He shook his head slowly, looking stricken. “I am afraid not. I was hoping that you had …”
Amy stepped forward. Susannah could see that her bottom lip was trembling. “We have not found Mr Stone.” She paused. “But we have found something that concerns us.”
“What?”
“A pool of blood.” Amy’s voice was a whisper. “Near the main stable gate. We did not see it when we first went in, but Mrs Drake spotted it on the way out …”
Susannah suddenly felt like she was going to be sick. The vision of the blood reared into her mind. She had missed it on the way in. And she very nearly had not seen it on the way out.
She had approached it cautiously, horrified, praying that it wasn’t what she thought it was. But as soon as she was near, and bent down for a closer look, she knew that it was true. A pool of blood, almost black in the night.
But whoever had bled at that spot was not there now.
She had run, then. Frantically, in all directions, calling out his name. She knew, in her heart, that it was Jasper’s blood. That something had happened to him there. But why was he no longer at that spot? Had he staggered away, disoriented and hurt, into the darkness?
“Dear Lord,” said David, in a whisper. “We must keep searching …”
They didn’t say another word. They held their lanterns high, pushing on into the darkness, the cold wind whipping their hair around their faces as they walked.
***
Susannah kept walking, calling out his name, her fear and horror sitting like a rock in her chest.
She was losing hope. She had wandered at least half a mile from the stables, and still there was nothing.
“Please,” she called out. “Please, Jasper, if you are here, give me a sign …”
Suddenly, she saw something on the ground just in front of her. A dark patch. She swooped down on it, holding her lantern high.
Her heart lurched. It was blood.
She stood back up, feeling strange alertness enter her veins as if she had just suddenly been prodded wide awake. She was on the right track. If the blood belonged to Jasper, then he must be in the vicinity. It was almost like a breadcrumb trail, as if she were Hansel or Gretel, searching for the clues to her way home.
She kept her eyes to the ground, searching for more blood. Yes, there was another drop; she could see it still glimmering in the moonlight.
“Jasper!” she called.
There was a faint noise in the distance. She held her breath, listening intently. It was definitely a moan. A moan from a person.
“Tell me where you are,” she called, running desperately. “I am close! I will come to you, my darling!”
A louder moan, almost elongated. Susannah ran in the direction of it, her heart pounding in her ears. She was close. She could feel how close she was to him.
Suddenly, she stopped short. There was a figure lying prone beneath a tree. A large figure. And it wasn’t moving.
