‘Yes, of course,’ she said.
‘Up you get, then,’ Rupert said and dismounted. He gave her his hand and threw her up in the saddle, looking at her with approval. ‘That’s my good brave girl.’
‘I’ve fallen before. Please do not worry about me,’ Francesca said and looked at Sarah. ‘Are you all right? I thought the shot was nearer you than me.’
‘It passed quite close. I felt the wind on my cheek,’ Sarah said and Rupert looked at her again.
‘Has it shaken you?’
‘No, not particularly, though it was not a pleasant experience. I am glad you arrived when you did, Lord Myers.’
‘Indeed.’ He looked at her hard and saw something in her eyes. She didn’t think that shot had been an accident—and Rupert was damned sure it hadn’t, though he was prepared to let Francesca believe it. ‘The rogue saw me and ran. His arm jerked and that may have made his aim go astray.’
‘Was he aiming for a bird or a rabbit?’ Francesca asked. ‘There’s plenty of game in these meadows, but I should’ve thought poachers preferred to set traps.’
‘Some of them,’ Rupert said. ‘Shall we continue our ride? It is not likely to happen again. I think whoever it was will not do it again.’
‘I’m sure he won’t now that you are here,’ Sarah said. ‘It would be a shame to let him spoil our day and so we shan’t.’
‘Certainly not,’ Francesca said. ‘I’ve been looking forward to this and no poacher is going to put me off.’
John rode up to them and stared at his sister. ‘Are you all right, Fran? Who do you think was firing at Miss Goodrum?’
‘It was a poacher,’ Sarah said. ‘Just a foolish mistake.’
‘No. I saw him,’ John insisted. ‘I looked that way. He took his pistol out and fired at you, Sarah. I know he did. Why would anyone want to kill you?’
‘I am sure they wouldn’t,’ Sarah said and forced a smile, but Rupert saw that she looked shaken.
‘It looked that way, John,’ he said, ‘but I dare say it was just an accident. Please do not frighten the ladies. Come on, I want you to show me your pony’s paces.’
John frowned, then inclined his head and obeyed his mentor. As the two of them set off, Francesca looked at Sarah.
‘Is there anyone who would want to kill you?’
Sarah hesitated, then, ‘I’m not sure. I would not have thought so—but if John saw him aim at me...’
‘If there is anything, you should tell Uncle Rupert,’ Francesca said. ‘He likes you, Sarah. I am sure he would help you if you are in trouble.’
‘Yes, perhaps. Forget it for now,’ Sarah said. ‘Let us catch up with the others. It will soon be time to return for nuncheon...’
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