Page 33 of Lady in Ruby
“But…you’re not French! You were born ten miles from here.”
“True, but I do have some debts to be paid, and French gold will do just as well as British.”
“Francis, you can’t do this. It’s wrong. If you need money, you can borrow—”
“No reputable lender will extend me anything now, Caro. And the less reputable ones…you don’t want to know.”
“Everyone will come after me!”
“By everyone, do you mean your icy lordling? I assure you, he’s sound asleep—I gave him the same treatment as you when he came to the laboratory door. Left him in the snow there. Ha! Very appropriate, since you made a snowman that practically looked just like him.”
“Wait, what? How did you know Estelle and I made a snowman?”
“Oh, I saw it all. I’d been following you, hoping to get you alone for a short time—I really did hope to persuade you to consider marriage. But Estelle never left your side. So I hid in the trees, and I heard your list of demands for the perfect gentleman.” His voice grew bitter. “Didn’t sound much like me, I’ll admit. I just wanted to…obliterate that thing. And then, when I met Snowdon at the house, all I could think was that he showed up after you made your idol. So the idol would have to be destroyed. While you were dressing for dinner, I walked back to the clearing and dismantled the whole snowman. But carefully! I removed it bit by bit, carrying the snow into the trees and spreading it around. Then I took a pine bough and swept the whole clearing, in case anyone might see my boot prints and point the finger to me. I didn’t want to lose your opinion of me, Caro. But in the end, I lost you anyway.”
“I never belonged to you, Francis. A fact you still have to learn, for you stole me just now, and brought me all the way out here. Why? It’s so cold.” She wrapped her arms around her body.
“The spring should keep you alive until they get here. And then we’ll negotiate.” He pulled out a silvery pistol.
“Francis, please think of what you’re doing. It’s not too late to stop—”
The sound of muffled hoofbeats made him look away. “Damn, they’re here already? I thought Snowdon would be out longer than that. Why are there so many of them?”
Caroline grinned, even as she huddled against the dubious warmth of the wellspring. Snowdon must have gathered everyone in the house and stormed after them. Francis had evidently done a very poor job of hiding the horse’s tracks.
Mist puffed up into the winter night, joined by the steaming breath of a half dozen horses and more people running up behind, the two more athletic footmen in the lead.
Snowdon dismounted first, then assisted Mrs Garland down from her grey. Timothy sprang off a roan as if he did it every day, and then helped Estelle down, who’d been riding with him. Mr Garland remained astride, surveying the whole scene with worry, until he saw Caroline huddled in nothing more than her nightclothes.
“What in Heaven’s name is this? Caroline is going to freeze!” he declared with more anger than she’d ever heard.
“I’ll get her, sir,” Snowdon said. He strode toward the spring.
Francis pointed the pistol at Snowdon, who stopped short. “Stop right there, my lord. You may have Caroline and the rest of the household eating out of your hand, but that doesn’t matter now.”
“Let me take off my coat. For her. I’ll toss it over, I won’t come closer.”
“You’ll do nothing of the kind, my lord.” Francis sighted along the barrel. “Or I’ll take great pleasure in shooting your head off.”
Snowdon seemed unruffled by the threat. “Think of Caroline. Christ, she already survived one ordeal by freezing today. She shouldn’t be out in the cold at all, let alone without warm clothing and shoes.”
“I know that!” Francis spat. “I planned that. I could have given her my coat, you know. But there’s a reason I haven’t. If her family wants her back before she freezes to death, they’ll need to hand over the formula. Now.”
“Papa, d-don’t,” Caroline called, a message that would have been more forceful if her teeth hadn’t been chattering.
Estelle wrung her hands. “Mr Foster, please think of what you’re doing.”
“Estelle hates f-fighting,” Caroline told him, more loudly. “Just the other day, she refused to even have a snowball fight with me!” Her gaze slid to Estelle as she spoke, and Estelle’s eyes widened.
“No one has to fight if they just do what I say,” Francis retorted, sounding exasperated. “I want the formula here, now.”
Estelle collapsed to her knees, her hands plunging into the snow as she made a sobbing sound. Timothy, now attuned to her moods, did the same, murmuring to her.
Francis ignored them. “Where’s the formula? I know one of you has it—I searched the lab and the house and I never found it! I’ll give Caroline a dose to keep her alive, and then we’ll be taking a horse and leaving here.”
“We will?” Caroline asked suddenly, fear cutting though the numbing cold.
“I’ll let you go when it’s safe for me,” he said. “I don’t trust your lordling here not to try to follow me. Or send a mob after me.”
