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Within minutes she was fully dressed for riding, her hair carefully pinned up on top of her head and hidden under a black slouch hat. A saber appropriated from the tack room rested on her hip. She knew her father and Uncle Thomas would not hear of her accompanying them, so she would set out on her own. Follow them at a safe distance. What she would do once they arrived at Greenbriar, she didn’t have the faintest idea.

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Thanks to her eavesdropping, she had already wrapped Sugarplum’s hooves in rags. So as soon as the men rode out, she saddled the gelding and followed. She hugged the shadows, thanking her friends back home for teaching her all the tricks for playing hide-and-seek atop a horse’s back.

They arrived at Greenbriar a scant hour later. Stormy hung back and waited until the men had tied their horses to some undergrowth. She intended to tie Sugarplum next to them, because once they rescued André they would have to hurry and get out of there.

She wisely kept the two men within eyesight, since she had no inkling about the layout of the house. Holding her breath, she expected to hear dogs set off an alarm, but then she remembered that they didn’t have hounds running loose as they did at home. The English kept their hunting dogs mostly pent up. So much the better.

She waited until the men disappeared down the steps of the trap door before she followed. She kept her hand on the hilt of the saber and prayed that she wouldn’t have to use it.

A glimmer of moonlight illuminated a small wedge of what appeared to be a long corridor. The air held a myriad of odors. Stormy’s nose wrinkled in distaste as the smell of potatoes, onions, old wash water and mold assailed her senses. She flattened herself against the wall. Her heart beating a staccato tattoo, she crept along, feeling her way with her hands, her eyes glued to the weak lantern light up ahead.

“Despard? Can you hear us?”

It was her father’s voice. And apparently they had found the room, where André was being held, because the light was suddenly gone.

Stormy tiptoed to the open door to peek around the corner. She could barely make out André’s form in the gloom and her heart skipped a couple of beats when she realized that he was shackled hand and foot. She wanted to run to his side, but she didn’t dare. She had to give her father and Uncle Thomas time to free him. Breathing choppily, she stayed where she was ready to sound the alarm, if it should come to that.

André blinked against the sudden brightness. Was Snowden back to torture him some more? He could barely move. He knew he had several broken ribs, but so far the man had not beaten his face. André did not put anything past him.

“Despard, we have come to take you away.”

He blinked again, surprised to see Trevor leaning over him, his expression grim.

André hissed through his teeth. “I can’t move. Snowden has me shackled hand and foot to this miserable cot.”

There was a flurry of commotion and a lot of muted cursing. “I can’t open the damn manacles with the set of keys we brought. Do you have anything else on you we could try?”

Stormy’s mouth went dry with apprehension. She knew she would be scolded, but she had to step in. Making a shushing noise, she stepped into the circle of light. “Let me try with one of my hairpins. I’ve seen it done many times, but I have never tried it.”

“Daughter, what in the devil’s name are you doing here? This is dangerous business.”

“Scold me later, Papa. Right now we need to get André out of here. And it will come in handy that I rode up on Sugarplum.”

Thomas looked askance, when she mentioned the name, but he said nothing, simply stepped aside to give her room.

André stared in fascination. For a second he was sure he was hallucinating. This could not be. No English noblewoman would deign to come down into the filth of the cellars or risk STORMY HEIDE KATROS

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her life to save his. He closed his eyes to hide the emotions that swept through him like an ocean tide.

Stormy was unaware of André’s scrutiny. She was too intent to set him free and to be out of this foul smelling room. Though her hands shook, she paid it no attention as she worked with feverish efficiency.

There was a concerted release of breaths, when the first shackle snapped apart. The other three followed in short order. But when André tried to sit up, he could not. Weakened from the terrible abuse he had endured at the hands of the crooked sheriff, he simply collapsed back to the cot.

He tried to laugh, but it sounded more like a harsh bark. “You had better leave, while you can. I appreciate the trouble you went through to get me, but it is not working.” His French accent was more pronounced than usual, a sign that he was under great duress.

“Nonsense. We didn’t risk our lives to leave you behind at the first sign of a problem.”

Trevor signaled to Thomas to drape André’s arm over his shoulder as he did the same. With grudging respect, he signaled to Stormy to precede them. “You go ahead and make sure we can cross the grounds without being discovered.”

“I’ll do you one better. I’ll run ahead and get the horses. We can ride double on Sugarplum.”

There was that name again. If André hadn’t felt so miserable, he would have chuckled.

He briefly lifted his head, just in time to see Stormy’s delectable bottom swagger out of the cell.

Stormy was waiting at the entrance of the trap door with two horses, her heart in her throat as she watched the men make their way laboriously up the steps. “I thought it would be better, if we could put André on one horse and someone rode the other,” she whispered.

“Hold it right there!” The voice boomed like a thunderclap through the night stillness and all four people froze in their tracks.

Snowden stepped forward, dressed in a pair of boots and breeches that were not properly tied, his nightshirt flapping in the slight breeze. The gun in his hands aimed straight for André’s heart. His gaze flitted briefly between Thomas and Trevor, a sneer curling his lips. “You have two choices. Either you remove your masks and reveal yourselves or I’ll kill the bastard right here and now.”

Stormy stood close to one of the horse’s hind quarters. The area was in deep shadow.

Despite a waning three quarter moon overhead, she realized that Snowden could not have possibly seen her. She bit her lip and tried to calm her heart. If she could just sneak up behind him, she might be able to force him to shoot wide. That would give her father and Uncle Thomas an advantage.

She hesitated a moment longer. She couldn’t warn them, but even if she could, the men would not stand for her to risk her life. Her shoulders stiffened with derision. This was no time to worry about what was proper. If she didn’t do something, they might all be dead before this night was over.

Her eyes focused on Snowden, hoping he was too preoccupied to notice any movement.

Holding her breath, she ducked, bent low and hugged the shadows in hopes to be able to sneak up behind the man. At least Greenbriar lived up to its name. There were lots of shrubs and trees to camouflage her progress. All the while she prayed that luck would stay with her and she would not step on a dry twig.

Desperation lent her strength. She launched herself at Snowden’s back and wrapped her arms around his neck, her legs around his middle.

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Startled, the man’s arm jerked upward at the same moment as his finger pulled the trigger. The loud explosion rent the night, and then pandemonium broke loose.

Snowden dropped his weapon to ram his elbow into her midriff. Enraged, he backhanded her across the face.

He would have thrown himself on top of her, but Trevor reacted with a roar of rage. He rushed the man and kicked his feet out from under him, pointing his pistol at his head.

“One more move and you are a dead man,” he gritted through clenched teeth. Hell, he could barely talk after seeing how the man had mistreated his daughter.

Though shaken, Stormy got nimbly to her feet to dust herself off. Tears of pain glistened in her eyes, but she refused to give in to the burn on her cheek. Clamping her lips together, she stalked over to her father’s mount to get a rope.

Determination shimmered in her expressive eyes, when she tied the sheriff up with a dexterity no one would have expected from such a slim girl.

André watched in shocked amazement. He moved to help, but Thomas’ hand held him back. “You are in no shape to jump into this fray. We need to get out of here. Now!”

“We can’t just leave them here.” His voice shook with emotion and weakness.

“You’d be more of a hindrance right now, André. Look at you. You can barely stand.”

Trevor overheard their conversation. Twisting around, his eyes clashed with his brother’s. “You two ride ahead,” he ordered gruffly. “We’ll be right behind you.”

There was a brief hesitation before Thomas helped André into the saddle. Wordlessly, he slapped the horse’s rump and they disappeared into the night.

Stormy’s eyes flew to her father for direction. Her heart slammed against her ribcage, when it sank in that they were on their own.

Snowden struggled against the bonds, cursing them with undisguised malice. “I’ll see all of you dead. Don’t think I won’t find out who you are and where you live.”

It gave Trevor the slightest bit of comfort to hear that the sheriff had not recognized them, so he decided not to give him any more clues. Laying a finger to his lips he cautioned Stormy to be silent.

Still seething with anger, he ripped a piece of the sheriff’s shirt off and stuffed it into his mouth. Grabbing hold of his collar, he dragged him unmercifully toward the open door to the cellar, and with a grunt of satisfaction he pushed him inside. There were muffled protests as Snowden fell down the stairs, but Trevor didn’t care. He slammed the wooden door shut and dusted his hands on his breeches.

“Let’s go. We don’t have time to waste. Who knows how adept he is at freeing himself from that rope.” Together they ran toward the waiting mare. Stormy climbed up behind her father and draped her arms around his middle.

“You don’t think that he recognized us?” Her voice was hoarse with emotion. Until now she had not considered the consequences. So much could have happened, if Snowden had called for help. Or what if Snowden had shot one of them? She shivered.

Trevor patted her arm. “I doubt it. Thanks to your courage and quick wit, we never had to remove our bandanas. But he knows that my brother and André are good friends. He’ll come looking for him there first.”

“What do you intend to do, Papa?”

“We can’t chance to let André and Stuart stay at the house. It would endanger Uncle Thomas and his family. Let me think on it.”

Lost in their own thoughts, neither spoke again until they reached Emerald Hills.

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During the ride to Emerald Hills, André told Thomas about the sheriff’s confession.

Talking kept his mind off the shooting pain in his ribs. “He boasted that he killed my poor aunt and that he killed the solicitor. You see, all these weeks I have been trying to find Squire Masterson to get to the bottom of why Aunt Victoria had not paid the taxes. Now I know it never was about taxes and all my searching was in vain.”

Thomas shot him a sideways glance. “You have to bring that man to justice. He can’t be allowed to act as sheriff for this county anymore. Bloody hell, he should hang from the gallows for his deeds.”

“I have nothing to go on except his confession. I need the document my aunt signed under duress, and I need the original will to prove my case. She’d sent me a copy some years ago, but that won’t hold up in a court of law. I know she kept the original document, properly sealed with wax, hidden somewhere in the study.”

“I am sorry to say, but that will have to wait. I am sure Snowden is going to come to Emerald Hills looking for you. We’ll have to hurry and get you and Stuart to a safe place.”

“Stuart is here? Snowden let on as if he had been killed during their raid of my hunting lodge.”

“Stuart was wounded and your horse brought him to us. I didn’t even know you owned that magnificent stallion.”

André couldn’t quite face his friend. “I might as well tell you, seeing that I owe you my life. I have been masquerading as that highwayman everyone’s been talking about, in an effort to find Squire Masterson. So I kept Noir hidden at my hunting lodge in the hills. I didn’t want the stallion and your stable connected with my nightly forays. I’m sorry to have kept you in the dark, but it seemed the only way to go.”

“I understand, André. No need to explain. You will always have a friend in me. You stood by me, when I had problems with Emerald Hills.”

André reached a hand across and Thomas clasped it. “Maybe some day I can tell you all the details about my life of crime and we’ll have a good chuckle.” He grinned lopsidedly. “But right now I need to get out of here. It’s not fair that any of you should be in jeopardy because of me.”

They’d reached the stables at Emerald Hills and two grooms came running to take their mounts. André was grateful for the distraction, because it gave him a chance to gather his wits.

He dared not breathe except in shallow gasps, since his ribs hurt each time he inhaled. He could not, would not let on that he was in pain. He had already caused too much trouble as it was.

André heard Thomas give orders to rub the mounts dry and stable them at the far end, in case Sheriff Snowden came nosing around.

Suddenly Sugar rode up with Trevor and Stormy on his back. André’s eyes flew to Stormy, admiration and love shining in their depths. He wanted to run to her and enfold her in his arms, but he didn’t dare and he couldn’t have managed the short distance, due to his injury.

He bowed, albeit a bit clumsily. “My sincere thanks to you both. I know I would not be a free man this night, if it had not been for your intervention. I don’t know how much longer Snowden would have kept me alive either.” He snorted. “I think at first he meant to see me hanged. But I think he changed his mind and decided to let me starve to death or go stark raving mad, whichever would come first.”