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gathered up the reins. ‘I did not see him. I did not mean to—’
    ‘I know it.’ He laughed as he turned his horses. ‘Who would have thought a simple drive to Hansford could be so entertaining!’
    Lucasta’s anxiety was lessened by his tone, but a glance atBradfield’s glowering face as they drove out of the yard made her serious again.
    ‘My lord,’ she touched his sleeve. ‘My lord, he is glaring at you most viciously. I think he would do you harm, if he could.’ Her hand was taken in a warm, comforting clasp.
    ‘Think nothing of it, Luke. Sir Talbot Bradfield is a bully and a drunkard. He will not inconvenience you again.’

    As they made their way out onto the highway, Lord Kennington asked Lucasta if she objected to riding in the open carriage. She was quick to disclaim, saying cheerfully, ‘Oh I am not cold now. I love to feel the air on my face, and to be able to see so much of the country.’
    They drove south from Bromsgrove but soon turned off the main highway onto what was little more than a rutted track, made muddy by the recent rains. It ran through the most empty and wild land Lucasta had yet seen that day: there were no houses in sight, and only the occasional shepherd grazing his flock upon the common. As the afternoon wore on the cloud grew thicker and after a short, golden blaze the sun disappeared for good. Lucasta drew her cloak more tightly about her to keep out the chill wind, and a sudden scrape of metal made her glance back at the groom.
    ‘Just readying the firing piece, miss,’ growled Potts, cradling a long-barrelled shotgun in his arms. ‘This is a lonely stretch of common.’
    ‘Aye,’ agreed the viscount, whipping up his team. ‘We are nearing the southern edge now, but we won’t tarry here, I think.’
    Hardly had the words left his lips than a group of men emerged from the bushes and moved across the road ahead of them. Potts stood up.
    ‘Here we go, my lord. Keep ’em steady.’
    ‘Over their heads, Jacob,’ muttered Lord Kennington. ‘We only want to scatter them.’
    Lucasta watched in horror as one of the figures raised his arm and aimed a pistol at the oncoming carriage, but even as he did so there was a deafening report from the shotgun. The little group ducked and dived to each side of the road as the curricle hurtled towards them.
    ‘That showed ’em,’ chuckled Potts as they flew past the men. ‘Never knew a footpad to—’
    He broke off with a yell and Lucasta swung round to see that one of the men had taken a shot at the curricle as it swept by. Reaching inside her cloak she drew out a pistol, took aim and fired. The viscount swore violently.
    ‘Deuce and the devil! Where did you get that thing?’
    ‘I brought it with me,’ said Lucasta, returning the pistol to her pocket. ‘Did you think I would set out alone without anything to protect me?’
    ‘And she can use it, too, sir. Fair blew the villain’s hat off,’ gasped Potts, looking back.
    The viscount gave a shout of laughter.
    Miss Symonds you are a very resourceful young lady.’
    ‘Yes, well, you had best pull up as soon as may be, Adam,’ she replied, in a shaking voice. ‘Your groom has taken a bullet in his leg.’ She took the shotgun from Potts’ failing grasp and returned it to its holster, then she snatched off her neck-cloth. ‘Here, hold this over the wound: it will help to stem the bleeding until we can bind you up.’
    She handed Potts the neck-cloth, trying not to look at the bloody hand that he had clapped over his thigh. The viscount steadied his team and he now risked a glance over his shoulder .
    ‘How badly are you hurt, Jacob? Do you want me to stop or shall I go on to the inn at the edge of the common?’
    ‘Drive on to the Pigeons, my lord,’ gasped Potts. ‘I can hold on till then. I ain’t at death’s door yet. And you miss,’ he addressed Lucasta, who was still kneeling up on the seat looking back at him. ‘You should turn about and sit down properly