A Shadow's Bliss (9 page)

Disliking the small space between them, Jennifer reined Chanteuse to the left. “As my brother informed you, I came out for a gallop, my lord. There is not the least need for you to feel obliged to accompany me.”

“There is every need, my dear,” he argued, again pulling closer. “I've something to offer you which will, I am assured, bring joy and pride to your pretty self.”

A confident smirk overspread the coarse features. It was incredible, she thought, that he did not sense her aversion. More incredible that a man more than twice her age, and with neither looks, physique, nor a pleasant demeanour to recommend him, should believe himself so splendid a catch. She said coolly, “Since our acquaintance is of such brief duration, sir, 'twould be improper for me to accept a gift from you.”

“A gift!” He slapped his thigh and gave a roar of laughter. “That's rich! But perchance you're in the right of it, for in a sense 'tis the greatest gift a man may offer a maid.”

“Then I most certainly could not accept, my lord.” He was so near to her now that his knee was brushing Chanteuse's side. Jennifer could only be grateful that he had not come up on the left in which case his knee would be making contact with her own, and once more she drew the mare away. “Furthermore,” she said, “I do not care to—”

His bay lunged at her. Before she could react, his great fist had closed on her bridle. “You're a coy puss,” he grinned. “But do not over-play your hand, sweeting, else—”

“I am not your sweeting,” she declared angrily. “And you crowd me, Lord Green. It does not do to ride so close to the edge. Pray let go!”

“So I will, when you have heard me out.” He forced Chanteuse to a prancing halt, and without releasing Jennifer's rein said, “There's no call to play the demure schoolroom miss with me, m'dear. I am already caught in your toils. Aye, I'll own it. There were obstacles my sire would have balked at, I grant, but there's no call for you to worry. I know you're barren, and it don't weigh with me. I've got myself an heir. I'll own I'd like it better were your father of higher rank, but my own lineage will counterbalance that. As for your fortune, y'r brother tells me 'tis not large. Mine is. I'm a warm man, love.” He chuckled appallingly, and bent towards her. “In more ways than one … So you need not fear I'll be unable to satisfy you in the bedchamber. There now, I'll wager you never dreamed of winning such a splendid offer, eh?”

Momentarily rendered speechless with disgust, she thought, ‘Not in my worst nightmare!' It was clear that the dense peer believed he had paid her a great compliment however, and keeping a tight hold on her temper she managed to say more or less evenly, “I assume you have asked my father's permission to pay your addresses.”

“No need for that, my duck. Sir Vinson will be overjoyed that you've made such a catch. Come now,” he released her bridle and reached out a massive arm. “A kiss or two … to seal our bargain.”

The thought of allowing those thick loose lips to touch her mouth was revolting. Incensed, she drove home her spurs.

Chanteuse gave a surprised snort and bounded forward.

“Hey!” roared Green.

“You forget your manners, sir,” cried Jennifer leaning forward in the saddle.

His angry curse was not muffled. His spurs raked the bay's sides and the terrified animal leapt into a full gallop, very soon coming up with the mare.

“I like a lass with spirit, burn me if I don't,” said Green tersely. “But do not push me too far, puss.”

Alarmed, as he crowded her dangerously near to the edge, Jennifer cried, “Let be! You leave me no room!”

“Then stop your playing, and—”

The ground here was fractured and uneven. Panicked, Chanteuse reared. Only her superb horsemanship kept Jennifer from being thrown. His lordship wrenched the bay around. The horse cavorted, neighing his terror. One back leg slipped over the edge. With a wild plunge, he managed to scramble up.

My lord Green was less fortunate. Uttering a deafening screech, he hurtled from sight.

With his scream ringing in her ears, Jennifer flung herself from the saddle and ran to the edge of the cliff. Much as she disliked the man, she would never have wished him harm, and she peered downward, dreading to see his lifeless body far below. His lordship was still clinging to life, however. Literally. His great hands were gripped around a jutting rock, his legs flailing as he sought in vain for a foothold.

“Thank heaven!” she gasped. “Hold tight, sir. I'll fetch help.”

“No!” he shouted. “Help me now!”

Even if she could reach his hand, she knew she'd be unable to pull him up. But she might contrive to steady him until he could gain a foothold. She lay flat and reached down, but although she leaned as far as she dared, she was far short of touching him. Distracted, she called, “It is no use! I must get help. Try to—”

“Stupid girl! I
am
trying! Find a—a rope. Or
something
to throw down. I can't last—much longer!”

His face was almost grey with fear, his eyes bulging and frantic. In desperation, Jennifer looked about for some way to help before he plummeted to his death.

“Miss Jennifer!”

The shout came like the answer to a prayer. She gave a cry of gratitude as Crazy Jack sprinted to her. A corner of her mind registered the fact that he looked dreadfully tattered and untidy, but then he was holding her outstretched hands, and she half-sobbed, “Thank God you have come! Poor Lord Green has fallen over the cliff. Help him, I beg you!”

He went at once to the brink. Green was clinging to an outcropping and had managed to brace one foot against the side, but terror made his voice hoarse as he wheezed, “Help! I'll—I'll make it worth your while!”

It was now high tide, and hypnotized by the sight of the waves far below, Jonathan scarcely heard him.

A small hand touched his arm. He started and looked into Jennifer's pleading eyes, and all that mattered was that he was here, when she needed him.

He patted her hand and looked about for something to use. Except for some clumps of furze, and Green's riding crop, which was too short, there was nothing. But the knapsack was still on his back, and he had the small axe. He shrugged out of the harness.

Green gobbled something incoherent.

Watching Jack empty driftwood and tools from the knapsack, Jennifer tried to keep her voice from trembling. “What can I do?”

“Bring up the horses. Gently.” He flashed her a quick smile. “Don't scare them.”

She was enormously relieved by his unexpectedly assured manner, and obeyed at once. The big bay was grazing, but he was still nervous and flighty and each time she tried to catch the trailing reins he tossed his head and danced away. She turned to Chanteuse and led the mare to Jack.

He used the axe blade to cut the reins off close, while Jennifer again attempted to catch the bay. The big horse shied at her approach, then moved off again. Her heart sank and she ran back to report failure.

“For the love … of
God!
” howled his lordship.

“Coming, sir,” called Jonathan.

Jennifer watched him knot the reins with swift and practised ease. One end was tied securely to the mare's stirrup, and the other attached to a shoulder strap of his knapsack.

He led Chanteuse to the top of the cliff. He was far from sure the improvised rope would be long enough, and was elated when the free-hanging strap of the knapsack dangled only a foot or so above the baron's head. “There's a loop within your reach,” he called. “Take hold, and we'll have you up in no time.”

Green's terrified eyes glared at him. “How can I—take hold, damn you?” he screeched. “I can't let go! Come down for me!”

Jonathan stood very still. He had just fought his way up that terrible rock face and he was still shaken. It was asking too much to expect him to endure such an ordeal again.

“No!” Jennifer caught his arm. “You cannot!”

“Come
down
I—tell you!” howled Green. “I'll—I'll pay you! A hundred pounds! Come down!”

“The rope won't hold you, both,” called Jennifer. “The loop is well within your reach! Won't you please
try!
”

But Green would not relinquish his hold, and repeated his demands that she send “the looby” after him, a sob in his voice, and curses alternating with his frantic pleas.

On his previous visit to Castle Triad Green had come to see the school-house. He had laughed at Jack's carpentry and thoroughly enjoyed himself by taunting the “village idiot” in front of Jennifer. How disgraceful it was, she thought, that even in this terrible moment he would villify the man he commanded to risk his life to save him.

Jonathan fought to conceal his own terror, but his hands trembled as he pulled the leathers up again. “He's properly panicked. I'll have to go down, Miss Jennifer.”

He twisted the free shoulder loop twice about his left arm, then with the same hand took a firm grip on the knapsack above it.

Jennifer's face was chalk white, her eyes dark with anxiety as he sat on the edge of the cliff. She whispered through dry lips, “But—the leathers … they surely cannot…”

“With luck, they'll only have to hold us both for a few minutes. Hold the mare steady until I have him, then back her, and pull us up.”

He spoke lightly and made it sound easy, but she knew better. “God bless you,” she faltered.

He smiled at her with a calm he was extremely far from feeling, then swung over the edge and began to lower himself. For as long as was possible, he clung to the top of the cliff with his right hand. His foot located a firm toe-hold, and he called hopefully, “Green! Can you reach my ankle?”

“The—the hell with your blasted … ankle! My
hand,
curse you! Take my hand!”

Confound the fellow! Steadying himself against the granite, Jonathan abandoned his hold on the top. The makeshift rope lurched and the loop of the knapsack tightened, biting into his upper arm. To an extent he was able to brace his feet against the side, but most of his weight was on that loop now. The wind was rising, the breakers coming in faster and harder. Above those sounds he could hear the sobbing rasps of Green's breathing. His lordship's convulsed face was just below. He steadied his boot against the cliff and stretched down his right hand. “Take hold, sir!”

Green hunched his great shoulders, then howled, “Too far! Come nearer, you block! Quickly, damn your eyes!
Quickly!
”

Jonathan glanced up and caught a glimpse of Jennifer's gown fluttering in the breeze. “I can't come much lower. Brace your feet, and grab.
Try!
”

“No! It's—it's too far!
Closer,
I tell you!”

Jonathan shouted, “Can you come just a step nearer, Miss Jennifer?”

Chanteuse was balking, her eyes rolling with fear. Stroking her sweating neck, Jennifer said soothingly, “It's all right, girl. Just a little way. Just one pace. Good girl … easy now…” And she thought, ‘Pray God she doesn't rear up! Please, Lord—let her not sidle.'

Another jolt on that terribly thin line, and Jonathan leaned down again. “Come,” he urged breathlessly. “Take my hand.”

Tears streaked his lordship's pale face as his staring eyes fixed on Jonathan's outstretched hand. He gabbled, “I—I cannot! I daren't let go! I
daren't!
The leather is—is too
thin.
It won't hold us!”

There was hysteria in the voice. Jonathan said sharply, “It's the only chance you have. The leather will hold if you brace your feet as we go up. If you don't, we'll likely both fall.”

The fingers of his lordship's right hand fluttered, only to clamp down harder. “Damn you! I
can't!
”

“Good Lord! Do you
want
to die? I promise you I do not! My arm is getting numb. I'll count to three, then you must climb up alone. One…”

“No! Do not
dare
to leave me, you worthless—clod!”

“Two…”

“Very well! Very well!” The words were a sobbing wail. “But—if you let me fall…”

“Grab my wrist if you can.
Now!
”

With a mighty effort, his lordship snatched for and caught Jonathan's wrist. The added weight caused the makeshift rope to jerk madly, and Jonathan held his breath, and wondered if his life ended here. Green lunged again, missed, let out a piercing shriek, and, kicking madly at the cliff face propelled himself upward and seized Jonathan's forearm.

Feeling that he was being torn in half, and convinced the leather must snap at any second, Jonathan shouted gaspingly, “Back … Jennifer! Back!”

Chanteuse was snorting and tossing her head about in terror. Guiding her away from the edge, Jennifer scarcely dared glance at the thin, taut leather, and she talked to the mare gently, trying not to betray her own fear. One step … two … Was it her imagination, or was the saddle slipping … On the thought, the saddle jerked to the side. The mare whinnied shrilly and tried to tear free. Clinging to the bridle with all her strength, Jennifer cried aloud, “Dear Father in Heaven—don't let them fall…”

It was a prayer Jonathan echoed. His right arm felt as if it was being dragged from the socket, and the strap had bitten so deeply into his left arm that he could no longer feel the fingers that gripped the knapsack, so that he dreaded lest he should unwittingly relax his hold. With both hands immobilised he was unable to guide their ascent except with his feet, and Green's bulk hampered those efforts.

“Try to … brace yourself,” he gasped.

Green responded hoarsely, “If you … let me fall … you'll pay, I promise you! Can't you … move faster?”

Jonathan did not dignify such nonsense with an answer. They scarcely seemed to move. The blood began to roar in his ears, and his eyes were blurring. There was a sudden sharp crack and the pressure on his left arm was released. He thought in anguish, ‘The leather snapped!' and tensed, waiting for the terrible plunge into the sea.