“Very well, m’m.” The carriage swayed to one side as Samuel guided the chestnut into the turn, then they were rattling up the cliff path to the Downs.
All Cecily could hope was that they would not be too late. She would never forgive herself if something happened to Madeline.
Gazing out the window at the sands below, she tried to reassure herself. She had gone over the plan carefully with everyone. All the pieces were in place. Surely it would work as she had envisioned?
Curling her fingers into her palms she leaned forward, as if urging the carriage to go faster. By now Madeline would be at the edge of the woods, waiting for a dangerous killer to approach.
If her friend had rung P.C. Northcott as instructed, the constable should also be waiting within a short distance, waiting to pounce on the killer the moment Madeline appeared to be in danger.
Over ruts and bumps the carriage bounced, jolting Cecily up and down and side to side, snapping her teeth. Barely aware of the bruising ride, her gaze was glued to the edge of the forest.
They were nearing the spot where Thomas Willow had died. Dark clouds had gathered angrily overhead. The change in the weather had brought a thunderstorm in from the sea. The wind whipped the carriage as it bounded across the cliffs, and rain now streamed down the windows.
Cecily could hardly see, squinting through the rivulets of water obstructing her view. Somewhere out there in the mist, Madeline was waiting. Somewhere out there a killer stalked, intent on murder.
Vaguely Cecily could see the outline of trees, and then a flash of color. “Stop!” She pounded on the window. “Stop, Samuel!”
The carriage rocked violently as Samuel dragged on the reins. The chestnut, taken by surprise, reared up on its hind legs, whinnying its outrage.
The carriage halted. Without waiting for Samuel, Cecily flung open the carriage door. Madeline was there, on the far slope of the Downs, facing the cloaked rider. The hood had fallen back, and even at that distance, Cecily recognized the auburn hair.
There was no sign of the constable. She looked in vain for the stocky figure wearing the dark blue uniform. Samuel leapt down from his seat, his eyes wide with apprehension. “She’s there. Where’s the bobby?”
“He was supposed to be here. I can’t see him anywhere.”
Samuel took one look and started racing across the grass. Cecily took off after him, cursing her stupidity in thinking that she could rely on Sam Northcott.
The Christmas Angel had swallowed the bait, but the constable was not where he was supposed to be. Now it was up to her and Samuel to save Madeline.
Samuel closed in, just as Caroline turned, her hand raised and her gleaming knife poised to strike.
Cecily screamed, and stumbled across the wet grass, the wind tearing at her hat and the rain beating her face. She saw Madeline raise both hands, fingers outstretched, her long, wet hair streaming behind her.
Her voice rose with the wind, calling out words Cecily didn’t understand. Samuel leapt toward Caroline, reaching for the hand that held the knife.
The woman neatly sidestepped, giving Samuel a shove. He tumbled forward and cracked his head on the massive trunk of an ancient oak. With a grunt he collapsed and lay sprawled on the ground.
Cecily no longer had breath to scream. She could only stand there, watching as Caroline, poised above Samuel’s fallen body, raised the knife above her head.
“You will die, wretch!” she yelled, grasping the knife with both hands. “No one can stop the angel of mercy! The animals need me!”
Cecily willed Samuel to get up, but he lay still, unconscious from the blow to his head.
Madeline called out again, her face lifted to the heavens. There was a loud crack, and a bolt of lightning flashed down from above and slashed across the knife, sending it spinning from Caroline’s hand.
The seamstress screamed and fell to her knees, clutching her hand to her chest.
From behind Cecily came the sound of pounding hoofs and rattling wheels. Out of the rain came a horse and carriage, with Kevin Prestwick flailing a whip, and P.C. Northcott seated beside him, one hand firmly holding on to his helmet.
Cecily dropped to her knees by Samuel’s side, thankful to see him stirring. Behind her she heard the doctor’s worried voice, asking if Madeline was hurt.
Northcott announced that he was arresting Caroline for the attempted murder of Samuel.
“She tried to kill me,” Caroline insisted. “Keep that witch away from me!”
Dr. Prestwick examined Samuel, who by now had opened his eyes and was trying to sit up. “He’ll be fine,” the doctor announced, then turned his attention to Caroline’s hand.
“It’s badly burned,” he said, as Northcott dragged the defiant woman to her feet. “I’ll take you both down to the constabulary and I’ll treat her there.” He looked at Madeline. “Samuel can take you home on his way back to the Pennyfoot.”
She nodded, then took a step toward Caroline, who shrank back. “You will tell them the truth,” she said, her dark eyes glittering with a strange, fierce light. “You will tell them everything. For if you don’t, if you leave out one single word, I promise you will find yourself facing a far more terrible fire that will consume you until you are nothing but ashes.”
Caroline flinched and allowed the constable to lead her over to the carriage.
Kevin paused, his probing gaze on his wife’s face, then he gave her a brief nod and turned to follow Northcott to the carriage.
Cecily called after him. “Why was Sam with you? He was supposed to be here to protect Madeline.”
The doctor paused. “The constable had another accident on his bicycle. Hit a rock and buckled the front wheel. He should ride in a carriage from now on. I passed him on the road and offered to give him a ride.”
He looked back at Madeline. “I never dreamed when I saw him that he was on his way to save my wife from a killer.” He shifted his gaze to Cecily. “You would have had much to answer for had she come to any harm.”
“I know,” Cecily said quietly. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s all right, Cecily.” Madeline walked over to him and laid a hand on his arm. “It was my idea, and it was worth everything to capture the Christmas Angel.”
Frowning, he dropped a quick kiss on her forehead, and left.
Samuel climbed to his feet. “What happened?”
“Caroline is on her way to jail.” Cecily took his arm. “Are you all right?”
Samuel grimaced and rubbed his jaw. “My pride’s hurt more than anything. She was too fast for me.”
“Do you feel like driving the carriage home?”
“Of course.” He grinned at Madeline. “Glad to see you’re okay. I reckon your husband turned up just in the nick of time.”
“Yes, I suppose he did.” Madeline smiled at Cecily. “All’s well that ends well, as they say.”
“Yeah. It could have been a lot worse.” Samuel headed a little unsteadily toward the carriage, followed by the two women.
“Thank you, Madeline,” Cecily said, as Samuel drew out of earshot. “That’s another of my lives you have saved.”
Madeline smiled. “You may want to slow down, Cecily. You’ll run out of lives one day.”
“I’m inclined to agree with you. I almost cost you yours today.”
“Nonsense. You saved my life. If you and Samuel hadn’t distracted that awful woman when you did, I might not have been able to defend myself in time.”
“Then the lightning bolt
Madeline’s expression was inscrutable. “Let us just call it divine intervention. It will avoid a lot of awkward explanations.”
Cecily had no time to answer before they reached the carriage, where Samuel waited to open the door. Drenched to the skin, she climbed inside, thankful to be under a dry roof again.
CHAPTER 20
