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Daniel frowned at the suggestion. He doubted Suzette and her father would have willingly done that, but Danvers might have forced them to. It was a long walk to the next inn though. Cursing, he turned and strode to the first stall holding one of their horses.
"What are you doing?" Richard asked, following him.
"I am going to ride back through the woods and see if I can find them. If I can't we will travel on to the next inn and check there," Daniel announced grimly.
"You can't ride with your wound," Richard protested.
"It's a mere scratch. Doesn't bother me at all anymore," he lied blithely, grabbing a saddle off a sawhorse against the wall and moving into the stall to saddle the horse.
"I'll go," Richard offered, taking the saddle from him and lifting it onto the horse.
"Someone has to stay here in case I miss them and they arrive while I am gone," he said, scowling at Richard, but really grateful he'd taken over the task of handling the saddle. His wound had screamed with pain when he'd picked up the damned thing.
"You and Robert can stay here to watch for them while I go," Richard said calmly, cinching the saddle.
Daniel caught his arm. When Richard paused and glanced at him, he asked solemnly, "Would you stay here if it were Christiana out there instead of Suzette?"
Richard frowned and turned back to finish with the saddle. Once done, he sighed and shook his head. "Your mother is going to kill me for letting you go."
"She doesn't have to know," Daniel said firmly, and then smiled wryly and added, "In fact, I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell her. She'd come after me herself."
"You're damned right I would," Lady Woodrow announced.
Sighing, Daniel turned to watch her step into the stall. "I am going, Mother, and that is that."
"I wouldn't expect anything else," she admitted, not looking pleased. "But you are not going alone."
"Robert and Richard have to remain here in case they--"
"Then I am coming with you," she said simply and glanced to Richard to ask, "Would you saddle me a mount, please, Richard? Don't worry about it being a sidesaddle, I can ride astride."
"Yes, Lady Woodrow," Richard murmured and slid out of the stall to find a saddle and carry it to the next horse over.
"Mother, you are not--" Daniel began, but she interrupted him.
"Do you want to stand here and argue about it, or shall we go find your Suzette?" she asked abruptly. "Because if it's arguing you want, I will give it to you. But it will be a waste of time. I am going with you."
Suzette woke to pain. She seemed to hurt everywhere, her head, her throat, her side, her wrists, her ankle. Everything was either throbbing or burning. It was most unpleasant.
"Suzie?"
Recognizing her father's voice, she opened her eyes and peered around. It took a moment for her to realize the dark sentinels surrounding her were trees and that she was lying on the cold ground in a fetal position. She couldn't see her father though.
"Are you awake?" he asked, and Suzette realized his voice was coming from behind her. When she felt a warm hand clasp her own, she turned her head, biting back a groan as her throat protested the move.
"Father?" she asked, able to make out a dark shape behind her.
"Yes." He squeezed her hand. "How is your head?"
"It pains me," she admitted wearily.
"I am not surprised. You hit it when you fell. It bled badly," he added. "Is it still bleeding?"
"I don't know," Suzette said, wondering how she was to tell. It hurt, that was all she really knew, and then she frowned and asked, "When I fell?"
"When Danvers attacked you I rammed him with my shoulders. It was all I could do," he said apologetically. "I was afraid he was going to choke you to death."
"He was very angry," Suzette said dryly.
"You have that effect on people," was his wry response.
Suzette gave a short laugh and then asked, "So ramming him was enough to stop him?"
"Well, that knocked you both down and got his attention. But I suspect reminding him he couldn't marry a corpse was the real reason he didn't simply go back to choking you," he admitted.
"Good thinking," she sighed.
"It worked," her father said, and then added apologetically, "Unfortunately you knocked your head on a boulder as you fell. So you have me to blame for your aching head."
"You saved my life," she pointed out, and tried to shift to a sitting position, but found she was anchored down somehow.
"He tied us together," Cedrick Madison explained. "He didn't have any rope, so he ripped strips off your gown and used those."
Startled, Suzette craned her head up and around to look at herself and saw that her dress was much shorter than when she'd set out that day. That explained why she was so cold, she supposed. "Where is he?"
"He was going to walk to the next inn to rent a hack and then come back for us. Hence the reason he tied us together. He figured that way if you regained consciousness before he returned, we wouldn't get far.
Suzette stilled and asked, "How long has he been gone?"
"Long enough that if we are planning to escape, we should get moving,
" her father said solemnly.
Suzette nodded, and immediately regretted it as pain shot through her skull. It felt like a squirrel was up there gnawing on her head above her right ear. She waited a moment for the worst of the pain to pass, and then said, "Count to three and on three we will both sit up."
Her father began counting.
"We must be halfway back to the overturned carriage by now."
Daniel didn't respond to that fretful comment from his mother.
"Surely they would have got farther than this by now?" she added, her gaze slipping over the woods on either side of them.
Daniel's mouth tightened, but he stayed stubbornly silent. He wasn't going to turn back until they'd reached the carriage, though he was sure his mother was going to suggest that next.
"Daniel, I think----" Lady Woodrow began, and then paused and reined in her horse. "What is that?"
He reined in as well and glanced to her to see her leaning forward on her mount, staring ahead and off to their right with bewilderment, and then a little alarm.
"What kind of creature is that?" she asked, her voice going higher in pitch with anxiety.
Daniel turned his head, following her line of vision and searching the dark woods ahead until he spotted movement. He leaned forward now himself, trying to make it out. It was still a good distance away, and large, as tall as a person but bigger around than one. Under the moonlight it was a patchwork of whites, grays and black . . . and he didn't have a damned clue what it was. It appeared to be leaping about, but was far too big to be a rabbit and its movements were clumsy, almost drunken as it weaved one way and then another in an awkward, hopping manner.
"I don't know," he finally admitted. Daniel watched it for a minute, and then said, "Stay here," and urged his mount forward. He kept the horse to a slow walk, his approach cautious because he wasn't sure what it was. But as he got nearer and heard the racket the creature was making, he realized it would never hear his own approach. The crackle of underbrush as it thumped about was loud enough to drown out any sound he was making. In fact, it was making so much racket that it took him a minute to realize it was speaking . . . English . . . in two different voices . . . one female and one male.
"Straight ahead, Father. You keep hopping to the right."
