Chapter 99
The door slamming open interrupted her. It was Mary Ann, eyes wide under her cap, gasping with excitement and exertion. “Your master wants you!” she blurted out, eyes flicking between Tred and the coachman. “The both of ye, at once, and oh, sir”—she gulped, nodding at Jeffries—“he says for God’s sake, to bring your pistols!” The coachman exchanged a glance of consternation with Tred, then leapt to his feet and dashed out, in the direction of the stables. Like most coachmen, he carried a pair of loaded pistols beneath his seat, against the possibility of highwaymen. It would take Jeffries a few minutes to find the arms, and longer if he waited to check that the priming had not been harmed by the wet weather. Tred rose to his feet and gripped the dithering maidservant by the arm. “Show m
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