“But there was that time in the garden—”
“Mary didn’t even see anybody,” Camellia protested. “They just found a footprint, and what does that prove? Anyway, she said he smelled like Cosmo, and the four of us can take care of Cosmo.”
“Of course we can,” Mary agreed. “The fellow at the inn ran away when I screamed, and whether it was really Cosmo in the garden or not, he didn’t do anything even though I was completely alone.”
“We can take Papa’s pistols, and Camellia can bring her knife,” Lily volunteered. “What about the rifle?”
After some discussion, they agreed that the rifle was not necessary, given that they were taking other weapons and it was rather heavy as well. So they dug out the case of pistols and loaded them, concealing one in Camellia’s pocket and the other in Lily’s. They picked up a blanket, put on their sturdier walking boots and old bonnets, and made their way downstairs. It took little persuasion to get the cook to fix up a small basket of cakes and a jug of water for them. It was more difficult to convince her that they did not require a footman to carry the basket.
Mary felt a qualm as they exited the side door, carrying their basket, jug, and blanket. She knew she should not encourage her sisters in a scheme that would ignite Sir Royce’s wrath. But she was tired of living as they had since coming to Willowmere, staying about the house all day, drilling on a seemingly unending list of nonsensical things. She had had enough of being told what to do. It would be fun to get outside for a while and do something new and unexpected.
And when Royce started to lecture, as he undoubtedly would, she would explain that she had been entirely responsible for the expedition and deflect his anger from her sisters onto herself. She felt sure that Royce would be all too ready to do that anyway.
They went west from the house, bypassing the gardens and cutting through the arm of trees that extended south from the woods, then crossing the sloping meadow beyond. The tarn was as darkly beautiful as it had appeared from the house, and the little bridge that arched over the narrow end provided a picturesque touch. They explored the summerhouse first. It was little more than a round room, with a circular bench that ran most of the way around it. Whatever furniture had once been there had been taken away, and since the archways were shuttered and even nailed closed, it afforded no view of the lake except through the open doorway.
They decided to spread their blanket on the bank of the tarn instead. They took out the cakes and ate them, chatting and laughing, and later, having put their things back in the little basket and shaken off the crumbs, they lay back, desultorily talking as they watched the puffy clouds float overhead, the sound of the water gently moving in their ears.
Mary had just drifted off into a doze when there was a snap and a stifled screech from Lily. Mary’s eyes flew open and she sat up just as a man broke out of the nearby shrubbery and ran straight for them.
Chapter 19
Instinctively Mary bounded to her feet. Lily screamed as the man grabbed Rose’s arm, and Rose swung her fist at him, but her blows fell ineffectually on his arm. Mary could hear Camellia cursing as she pulled out the pistol, and she knew that Camellia was concerned about firing at the man with Rose so close. Mary grabbed up the picnic basket and swung it with full force at his head. It landed not on his head but on his shoulders, and it cracked apart, sending him staggering back a step.#p#分页标题#e#
Lily threw the earthen jug, hitting the assailant high on the back. He let out a roar and swung around, his grip on Rose loosening. Rose flung herself to the ground, and Camellia seized the opportunity to fire a shot. The man’s cap flew from his head, and he let out a yelp and turned, his eyes round with astonishment. Lily was already digging the other pistol out of her pocket.
The man turned and ran for the woods. Camellia, the better shot, took the pistol from Lily’s hand and raised it. Bracing it on her arm, she squeezed off another shot. The attacker staggered, grabbing his arm, then ran as if the hounds of hell were after him.
“Rose!” Mary flung herself down beside her sister. “Are you all right?”
Rose nodded, sitting up and rubbing her arm where the man had grasped it. “I’m fine. I’ll have bruises there tomorrow.” She let out a giggle of nervous relief. “I won’t be wearing any short sleeves for a while.”
“Blast it!” Camellia dropped the pistol into her pocket. “I missed him twice.”
“You hit him with that second shot,” Lily replied a little breathlessly, sinking down to the blanket with her sisters. “I saw him clutch his arm.”