A Place Called Freedom - Ken Follett [23]
He swung the rifle back to Robert.
Father respected strength, decisiveness and ruthlessness. Even if he guessed that the fatal shot was deliberate, he would be forced to realize that Jay was a man, one who could not be ignored or overlooked without dreadful consequences.
That thought strengthened his resolve. In his heart Father would approve, Jay told himself. Sir George would never let himself be mistreated: his response to wrongdoing was brutal and savage. As a magistrate in London he had sent dozens of men, women and children to the Old Bailey. If a child could be hanged for stealing bread, what was wrong with killing Robert for stealing Jay’s patrimony?
Lizzie was taking her time. Jay tried to breathe evenly but his heart was racing and his breath came in gasps. He was tempted to glance over at Lizzie, to see what the devil was holding her up, but he was afraid she would choose that instant to fire, and then he would miss his chance; so he kept his eyes and his gun barrel locked on Robert’s back. His whole body was as taut as a harp string, and his muscles began to hurt with the tension, but he did not dare move.
No, he thought, this can’t be happening. I’m not going to kill my brother. By God, I will, though, I swear it.
Hurry, Lizzie, please.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw something move near him. Before he could look up he heard the crack of Lizzie’s gun. The stags froze. Holding his aim on Robert’s spine, just between the shoulder blades, Jay squeezed his trigger gently. A bulky form loomed over him and he heard his father shout. There were two more bangs as Robert and Henry fired. Just as Jay’s gun went off, a booted foot kicked the barrel. It jerked upward, and the ball went harmlessly up into the air. Fear and guilt possessed Jay’s heart and he looked up into the enraged face of Sir George.
“You murdering little bastard,” his father said.
7
THE DAY IN THE OPEN AIR MADE LIZZIE SLEEPY, AND soon after supper she announced that she was going to bed. Robert happened to be out of the room, and Jay politely sprang up to light her way upstairs with a candle. As they mounted the stone staircase he said quietly, “I’ll take you down the mine, if you like.”
Lizzie’s sleepiness vanished. “Do you mean it?”
“Of course. I don’t say things I don’t mean.” He grinned. “Do you dare to go?”
She was thrilled. “Yes!” she said. Here was a man after her own heart! “When can we go?” she said eagerly.
“Tonight. The hewers start work at midnight, the bearers an hour or two later.”
“Really?” Lizzie was mystified. “Why do they work at night?”
“They work all day too. The bearers finish at the end of the afternoon.”
“But they hardly have time to sleep!”
“It keeps them out of mischief.”
She felt foolish. “I’ve spent most of my life in the next glen and I had no idea they worked such long hours.” She wondered if McAsh would be proved right and the visit to the pit would turn her view of coal miners upside-down.
“Be ready at midnight,” Jay said. “You’ll have to dress as a man again—do you still have those clothes?”
“Yes.”
“Go out by the kitchen door—I’ll make sure it’s open—and meet me in the stable yard. I’ll saddle a couple of horses.”
“This is so exciting!” she said.
He handed her the candle. “Until midnight,” he whispered.
She went into her bedroom. Jay was happy again, she noted. Earlier today he had had another row of some kind with his father, up on the mountain. No one had seen exactly what happened—they had all been concentrating on the deer—but Jay missed his stag and Sir George had been white with rage. The quarrel, whatever it was, had been easily smoothed over in the excitement of the moment. Lizzie had killed her stag cleanly. Both Robert and Henry had wounded theirs. Robert’s ran a few yards, then fell, and he finished it off with another shot; but Henry’s got away, and the dogs went after it and brought it down after a chase. However, everyone knew something had happened, and Jay had been quiet for the rest of the day—until now, when he became animated and charming again.
She took